Bride of the Dragon King

By Jewel Geffen

Katherine isn't like the other girls; there's a secret hiding under her chastity belt, and when the Emperor chooses her to join his haram he has no idea what he's in for!

This sweeping erotic romance tells a story of unlikely passion and erotic discovery in a fantasy land of wonder and adventure. Katherine is surrounded on all sides by secrets and conspiracies, and the only way she'll survive is by seducing the Emperor and proving herself worthy to take her place among his wives. Danger and erotic delights wait around every turn, and she'll need her wits and her beauty if she's going to come out on top!

The story is packed with sizzling hot t-girl action and fast paced drama. The Dragon King awaits!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jewel Geffen
• Release date: May 27, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463256640

Jewel Geffen

Jewel has been reading and writing romances as long as she can remember. Nestled away in the wilds of Upstate New York surrounded by her family and altogether too many enormous dogs, she loves nothing more then cuddling up in front of the fire with a steamy novel. She is passionate about both romantic and erotic fiction, and about exploring the space between the two. If you enjoy well-written stories, believable characters, interesting plots and sizzling hot action, you've come to the right place!

Book preview

Bride of the Dragon King

by Jewel Geffen

Copyright 2018 - Jewel Geffen

All rights reserved.

The Wedding of Pendragon Virgo

I'm going to tell you a story.

It is a story of love and danger and desire and everything else you could possibly imagine, a story of passion and erotic longing.

It is my story.

If I'm going to tell you the story then I'm going to have to go all the way back to the beginning, back to when it all started. Before I knew who I was, before I fell in love with the most powerful man in the world, and before he fell in love with me.

Before everything.

* * *

Today was the wedding day of Pendragon Virgo, Lord-Emperor of Arizia, Crown Prince of the Five Islands, Captain of the Ruby Seas, King-Majestic of the Church of the Twin Gods and Grand General of the Army of the Black Banner.

The only trouble was that he hadn't yet chosen his new bride.

The stories said that Pendragon Virgo had as many wives as there were stars in the sky. Like most stories, however, it was somewhat less than true. The more accurate measure would be to say that he had as many wives as there were cities in Arizia.

Pendragon was scarcely more than a boy when he conquered the great City of Vishar and declared himself the rightful heir of the Dragon Kings and the great family of Virgo. He married the newly widowed Lady Tarian on the steps of the Temple of the Twin God, and that night claimed her body in the sight of all the court. In the years which followed he cut a bloody swath through Arizia, conquering the great Cities one by one, and from each City he took for himself a noble bride. Now, after near thirty years of iron rule, nearly all Arizia lay conquered at his feet.

Most noble girls wouldn't have been able to tell you all that. Of course, my unusual knowledge was only one of the many ways in which I differed from those other women. I have spent most of my life far from the great courts of the south in the manner house of my dear father and mother, the Lord and Lady Harwick, and a great many of my young years have been spent happily in the library, paging through dusty religious tomes and histories of the realm. My dear father, Lord Duncan, despaired greatly over my bookishness, but my mother always encouraged my scholarly interests, though of course she insisted that time be made for the tedious study of etiquette and ceremony.

On the day of the wedding I found myself wishing desperately that Mother was with me. Though I was adopted and not born into their bloodline, she had never been Lady Harwick to me, but always Mother. And the truth was that our family is not great among the houses of Corfaust City, the icy northerly realm which has been my home since birth. There was noble blood in their veins, though it was, as Lord Duncan was so fond of saying, only the merest drop. For spice, he would say, chuckling as he sipped from his mulled wine. We were nobility only by a technicality, and doubly so for me, as I was not their true-born heir. I looked around myself and found I was surrounded by all the noble ladies of Corfaust City, but their faces were as foreign to me as those of our new overlords. I felt quite alone.

For what has seemed an unending number of hours I had been poked at and prodded at and fluffed and perfumed and painted by more people than I can remember. All of the ladies of Corfaust were summoned together and prettied by the crones of the City until we seemed to me more like lace bouquets than people. The others seemed not at all surprised or perturbed by this, and chattered nervously amongst themselves. For myself I found it quite distressing. The taste of fear and excitement filled the air as thick as smoke. I only watched, and let them do as they wished with my face and hands and feet.

We were all sitting together at the enormous banquet hall of Corfaust Castle, picking daintily at the most exquisite food I'd ever tasted. It had been prepared by the Dragon King's own cooks, and each bite exploded on my tongue with new and exotic flavors. I was unable to enjoy a single bite of it. I kept stealing glances down at the far end of the table, where Pendragon himself sat, resplendent on a throne of solid gold, his every finger adored in priceless gems. His scarlet robes pooled around him and the crown atop his golden hair shone bright silver, every tong tipped with a fat ruby like a drop of blood. His great golden beard spilled down his enormous chest, and his hard black eyes glittered like polished onyx as he watched us, never missing a single motion, alert as a hawk about to dive.

He was, it need hardly be said, a sharp contrast with his surroundings. The people of Corfaust City were simple and plain. Bread and fish made up the main part of our diet, all year round. Out men slouched through the snow, anonymous in heavy fur cloaks as they come back and forth from the fishing docks. Our women are as plump and strong as the white bears which sometimes cross the frozen ice in winter. The castle is little more than a stone longhouse, and the wall a mere stockade, much unlike the great stone walls of the richer Cities. The truth is, Corfaust would scarcely even be considered a City if it were further south. It's only the loneliness of the frozen north-lands which qualified us for our own temple and a voice on the council of Cities.

They said that the reason Pendragon had not made Corfaust a part of his realm was that we were scarcely worth the trouble. Until now, I supposed.

There was no battle. Long before the Army of the Black Banner could even be seen from atop the wooden walls our envoys had already gone to offer him our formal surrender and pledge of fealty. Yesterday, they had come marching in through the gate, and it seemed almost more like a grand parade than a conquest. I watched from my window, the same window from which I had watched all the comings and goings of Corfaust for so many years. The window where I looked out, yearning to be among the people.

But now that I actually was out, I found myself wishing I was back home curled up in bed or reading by firelight in the old library. I'm sure that my dear father and mother felt the same way. I rather think that they expected me to be forgotten when the call went out for all the noble girls of the City to be presented. After all, their blood was more common than noble, and I had been so scarcely seen by the people of this City that I felt sometimes like a story myself, made of nothing but the imaginations of others.

But I was not forgotten. The envoys came for me just the same as any other noble girl, demanding I accompany them Mother said that my presence was a mere formality; I would never be chosen. I thought I heard a note of fear in her voice.

So here we waited for the prowling conqueror, hoping and dreading in equal measure that we would be chosen as the fruit of his conquest. At least, that is what I saw on the faces of the women around me. As for myself, there was only dread. I had no wish to become a bride of the Emperor.

And then, with no announcement, he rose from his throne. A hush fell across the hall.

We noble ladies were alone with the king and his counselor, a reedy man with a curled mustache and a shrewd eye. The two of them started down the great length of the table, consulting quietly together as they came. I had a horrible image of a fox stalking down the length of a hen-house, and all of us, the plump birds, could do nothing but watch and blink. Every once in a while Pendragon would bid one of the ladies stand and present herself before him. Most of these he dismissed back to their seats, but a select few were sent to stand at the far wall. When the first such was chosen I thought – and saw by her stricken face that she did as well – that she was to be his wife. But he kept prowling, and I realized that we were simply being winnowed down to the choicest few. I felt a surge of anger. Perhaps he was the mightiest man in the world, maybe he was even – as some said – a god. But god or king or common man, I thought it quite churlish of him to treat us so, like livestock at auction.

Most of the women he selected were older ladies, at least twenty-four years of age. They were all tall and statuesque, full bodied with heaving bosoms and waves upon waves of curling hair nearly as golden as the Emperor's own. To put it more clearly: women who were nothing like me. I began to relax. He plainly had a certain type which he favored.

But then he came to me. His every footfall was like the thud of a battering ram on ancient gates, and I began to tense once more with fear. I bent low over my plate and tried to make myself as invisible as possible. I heard his footsteps cease. And then, a voice. He said one word, bold as thunder and sweet as syrup. You. I felt instantly compelled to obey, as though he had cast some witchery over me.

But he could not be speaking to me. To one of the ladies on either side, surely. Not I. I dared not look.

Girl! the reedy counselor's voice was sharp as a whip-crack. He had none of Pendragon's honey and all of his thunder. I had to turn.

The two men were both looking right at me. My throat went dry.

Come here, child, the counselor instructed, more gently now. I rose from my seat, my knees trembling. Surely he had made a mistake. He would see me properly, and I would be dismissed. I thought of myself, of my body in the mirror as I had seen it so many times. My skin was dark and my hair black as jet. I was skinny and my bust was flat. I've always been short, but standing before those towering men I felt like I was out of perspective with them. I didn't look anything like the tall golden beauties standing against the far wall, their breasts heaving and their hair curly.

What was he thinking? I despaired to ponder it. Perhaps he had singled me out simply to cast me from the gathering. I felt a strange jubilation at that possibility. I had been teased before on account of my dark features and kinky black hair. Any time there were guests at the manor house my appearance would come up in conversation. The nicer guests would mention that I was striking, or uncommonly rare, but they always meant it for odd and strange, which was what the less polite guests would dub me.

Pendragon reached down and touched me. He ran his rough hand along my jaw, and lifted my face to his. I looked up at him, trembling like a bird with a broken wing. He looked down at me, studying my face. His eyes were not black, I saw, but a dark brown, rich and soft and deep. I felt pulled into them.

What is your name, girl? his voice was so soft, I felt sure that I must be the only person in the entire hall who could hear it.

It was almost more than I could manage to speak. Katherine Harwick, my liege... if it pleases you.

His mouth twitched, a smile or a grimace perhaps, hidden beneath his great shaggy beard. Such a plain name, he said, for so exquisite a flower. And then he let go of me and made a dismissive gesture, flicking his hand towards the far wall where the other women he'd chosen stood waiting.

I stood stock still, as though rooted to the very floor. My head was spinning. Had he just complimented me? I felt giddy and light and sick all at once, like I might float up into the sky and die there. Of course, I didn't especially like being compared to a plant...

The counselor frowned back at me, snapping me from my reverie. Go on then, girl, wait with the others. They were already moving further on down the line.

I walked down the long hall in a kind of horrified daze. I thought I could feel the eyes of the whole hall upon me. I was sure that they were all thinking the same thing. Why her?

I know that I was thinking it myself.

* * *

He selected eight of us to stand by the far wall. The rest were ushered out. Then, to my surprise, Pendragon left as well.

The counselor instructed us to follow him and we did so. He led us to the infirmary and once there we were separated and led off into individual rooms where we were left to wait to be inspected by the royal doctor. I was the last to be inspected, which left me plenty of time to dwell on the insulting nature of the entire process. I got so angry that I almost stopped being afraid for a while.

I was picturing what the Emperor's face might look like if I told him that he had better be seen by the doctor before I consented to wed him when the physician at last came