Dragon's Curse

By Nancy Lee Badger

A romantic 109 page Scottish tale of intrigue, witchcraft, dragons, and curses brought to you by award-winning author Nancy Lee Badger. Sometimes a special gift and an unwanted curse cannot keep destined lovers apart. Brianna Macleod has accompanied a shipload of her guardian's friends to a remote island off the coast of Scotland. She eludes these Highland hunters to keep her innocence…and her gift of sight. Her attitude against falling for womanly desires changes when she nearly drowns. Saved by the talons of a terrifying winged beast, she awakens—naked—in a cave, beside an unusual man.

Cursed by a vengeful witch to transform into a dragon at inopportune times, Draco MacDonald hides on this deserted island to live alone: until he plucks a servant girl from certain death. Fueled by jealousy, and tempered by fear for her safety, he succumbs to an unfamiliar desire to mate. Her kisses propel him to dare to make her his own. Set in 1592 Scotland on the Scottish island of Staffa, the cursed hero battles a ghostly witch, a hunter set on rape, and his own growing desire for a young woman with premonitions of his death. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nancy Lee Badger
• Release date: Jul 9, 2013
• ISBN: 9781386278177

Nancy Lee Badger

Nancy Lee Badger lives with her husband in North Carolina. She loves everything Scottish and still volunteers annually, with her family, at the New Hampshire Highland Games. She was born in Huntington, NY and is also a former EMT, volunteer firefighter in a small town, and a 9-1-1 Dispatcher.She is a member of Romance Writers of America, Heart of Carolina Romance Writers, Fantasy-Futuristic & Paranormal Romance Writers, and the Triangle Association of Freelancers.Nancy's books:The TAF Omnibus 2Yuletide Kisses (currently out of circulation)The TAF OmnibusThe Rogue's RingThe Duke's DiamondThe Earl's TreasureLove, HamishHeaven-sent Flame (Warriors in Bronze 3)Rescuing ChristmasWith Every stepOpportunity Falls Boxed setHeaven-sent Highlander (Warriors in Bronze 2)Heaven-sent Warrior (Warriors in Bronze 1)With Every Spark (Opportunity Falls 4)With Every Breath (Opportunity Falls 3)With Every Kiss (Opportunity Falls 2)With Every Heartbeat (Opportunity Falls 1)Clan of dragons boxed setSANDYShimmer: The Beginning (a Clan of Dragons Prequel)SMOLDER (Clan of Dragons 3)SMOKE (Clan of Dragons 2)SPARK (Clan of Dragons 1)Highland Games Through Time-boxed setWhen Love Conquers Time-4 author boxed set (out of circulation)MY HUNTED HIGHLANDER Bk#3Medieval Redemption-4 author boxed set (out of circulation)MY DARK HIGHLANDER Bk#210 Timeless Heroes-4 author boxed set (out of circulation)MY LADY HIGHLANDER Bk#1DRAGON BITESMY RELUCTANT HIGHLANDER Bk#3MY BANISHED HIGHLANDER Bk#2MY HONORABLE HIGHLANDER Bk#1DRAGON'S CURSEUNWRAPPING CHRISSOUTHERN FRIED DRAGONOut of Print:IgniteShiverLove to the RescueDestiny's MountainSecret Love Match

Book preview

Dedication

To my wonderful husband, Richard-Gerald, who brought a bit of Highland magic into my life.

CHAPTER 1

Scotland, 1592

The sea’s brackish waves battered the island’s ragged coastline and crashed against Brianna’s legs. She staggered for a moment, tangled in the wet hem of her servant’s frock. The force of the water pushed against her like a troublesome bully, and she fell to one knee onto the pebble-strewn sand. Forced to drop her collection of driftwood, she fought the power of the receding current until she regained her balance and righted herself.

With one hand grasping her unbound hair to keep it from whipping her eyes, Brianna snatched at a small, gnarled piece of bleached wood. It floated farther away with each pulse of the swirling foam until the tide swallowed it whole.

She shook out her drenched skirt, unable to ignore the salt that leached upward like lacy fingers along the coarse fabric. Castaway sea-kelp gathered around her ankles. Tethered by their weight, she hopped on one foot, and then beat a path farther from the edge of the surf. When she arrived near the base of the cliff, Brianna freed her feet from the confines of both her soaked leather boots and one remaining rope of slimy weed. She stared down at her damp work clothes.

These best come clean or Gregor will have my head upon my return. My guardian is no’ free with his coin.

Yellow rays of light beamed from the early morning sky and soothed her thoughts. Sand glittered with a golden radiance and crunched beneath her bare toes. ‘Twas odd to stand on the rocky shore of an island while brushing windblown sand from her bodice.

The sun rose high overhead. She had lost track of time, again. She had best return to camp, since Cook expected her help feeding the hunting party.

What disgusting fowl will she make me pluck this day?

Lips puckering, she pushed aside distasteful thoughts while uneasiness grew in her belly. She would rather dwell on pleasant dreams of faeries, winged creatures, and handsome Highlanders, than return to camp.

A man is no’ dangerous in my dreams.

As she turned to head back along the beach, she spied an odd piece of wood lying flat against the base of the cliff wall. All thoughts of an angry Gregor, the bloody hunters with roaming hands, and kitchen chores, fell away.

Speakin’ o’ creatures out of my dreams, this driftwood looks like a winged dragon. She chuckled at her own imagination, which tended to run away with her on days like this.

Oh, to be free as a dragon and escape upon the wind. Brianna sighed. Warm breezes and the scent of the sea had called to her the moment their vessel left the Scottish mainland and headed through the Sound of Sleat toward the open ocean. Their galley landed on the island’s eastern shore only yesterday. Freedom, and its sudden luxury, rarely fit into her life back in Glenelg. Though forced to earn her keep doing menial tasks, she lived in the great tower of the laird of Clan Macleod. Such an honor came with many obligations, the biggest being to use her gift of sight whenever the laird demanded.

Her duties as a serving wench on this hunting trip should only keep her busy ten or twelve hours a day. The rest of the time belonged to her, unless her laird demanded she force a premonition, the skill he warned her to keep secret. Roaring breakers brought her back to her senses.

No time for woolgathering. I have chores. ‘Tis time to retrace my steps and return to camp, she said to the wind. She tipped back her head, resting it on her tired shoulders. An ache, fueled by the disdain she barely suppressed when Gregor’s so-called friends lay hands upon her, speared along her spine.

Brianna shook away the sour memories. Failing once more to sweep away the deep sense of melancholy consuming her life, her gaze followed the steep expanse of gray wall. She paused, and then sucked in a quick, salty breath. Her attention locked on the rock face just out of reach.

Why does the wall change color part way up?

Brianna walked closer. She stretched out both hands, pressing them flat against the vertical precipice. A sudden chill raced under her skin, through her fingertips, and up her arms. A sense of doom made her fingers clench.

This wall is wet, but, Gregor’s scout reported it has no’ rained on Staffa in over a fortnight. Her thoughts wrestled with the evidence until a loud boom echoed off the rock face. She whirled about, and screamed.

Frozen with fear, she stood with her back flat against the wet rock at the base of the steep cliff. Willing her body to calm itself, Brianna took stock of her options. Earlier, she cursed at having lost track of the time. Only now did she realize how far from camp she had walked. The safe way home, along a narrow strip of beach, had vanished with the rising tide.

I put myself in this predicament, and I shall get myself out.

The ocean rolled and surged with the anger of a beast, clawing its way to shore and foaming at the mouth as it pounced. Black water, topped with white froth, mingled with the scent of a distant storm. Great pewter clouds lay low upon the horizon, while mid-morning sun still burned off a sooty haze. The waves rose and fell closer and closer as the tide rolled in. The narrow strip of sand under her bare feet did not offer a way of escape, nor were there any handholds or steps in the cliff’s sheer rock face. The tidal surge had obliterated her footprints from camp. Her breath whistled out with a sob.

I am trapped.

Swirls of salty foam, edging closer with each thunderous crash of the waves, interrupted her thoughts of how to escape the precarious situation.

If I survive, I shall cry foolish later.

Another slap of water shook the sand at her feet, and she dropped her dragon-shaped piece of kindling. Fear streaked up her spine. She grabbed her boots, lifted her skirts above her knees, and ran. Each pounding step took her farther and farther away from camp.

With little choice, and no help from her premonitions, Brianna stumbled upon a gorge split by a small stream. Water rushed by with each surge and the muddy current rose and fell. The tide-filled ravine looked rather deep, so she glanced around for an easier avenue of escape. Focusing, she spotted a shadow-filled opening in the cliff.

A cave! Alongside the muddy gorge that filled its center, its hidden entrance offered a dry, rock-strewn path along a wall to her right. With each crash of a wave, more seawater flowed in and threatened to overflow onto the path.

Bile threatened to rise and fill her throat. She contemplated her choices: run inside the huge cave, find shelter, and wait out the tide or take the chance the waves would recede before reaching her. She glanced back at the cliff wall and at the damp stone above her head. Such evidence meant the tide would keep flowing higher and higher until waves crushed her against the wall, or swept her out to sea. Not one to fool with the power of nature, Brianna followed the narrow path nestled along one side, and headed inside the massive cave.

Why has no premonition appeared to show me the path to safety?

Disillusionment flooded her thoughts until coarse sand and pebbles, mixed with crushed and broken shells, sliced the soles of her bare feet. She winced, but kept moving. Breaking waves dampened her gown and its weight slowed her steps. Should the water overtake her before she found refuge, the soggy weight of her gown would pull her beneath the waves.

She might drown.

Brianna whipped her frock off over her head, and then clasped the dress under her left arm as she ventured farther into the bowels of the damp, dark cavern.

Guided by fingers sliding across the rough, mossy wall, her gaze flitted side to side in search of higher ground. As she weighed whether the water might continue to follow her into the cave, salt spray on the walls confirmed her fears and leftover puddles dotted her path.

She had to go higher, ahead of the rising water, but the low light hindered her sense of direction. As she contemplated the odds of survival, she stumbled across a crude staircase cut into the cave wall. Whether fabricated by men, or carved by the force of water, she took the path to higher ground as a sign.

Brianna tied the laces of her boots together, and looped them around her neck. She flinched as the cold, sand-encrusted leather scraped against her sensitive skin. Without a moment to lose, she flung her dress over one shoulder and climbed.

Pressing her breasts against the slimy wall, she clawed at the protrusions for support. The dampness seeped through her tattered chemise, and each breaking wave forced a wet breeze to whip across her back. Salt-laden air tickled her