Dragons’ Desire: Sorcha's Children, #3

By Debbie Mumford

An unimaginable love between a human sorceress and a dragon lord has created a new race of beings. Neither wholly dragon nor fully human, Sorcha's children shapeshift at will. The six fledglings have been raised as dragons, but the time has come to explore their human heritage. In this third volume of the Sorcha's Children series, Eibhlinn, the fifth of Sorcha's six children, takes center stage.

Having enjoyed her time in Rossal's court as companion to her sister Aislinn, Eibhlinn dreams of following in her sister's footsteps. Aislinn, wife of Crown Prince Ewan and mother to the royal heir, loves the idea of keeping her shifter sister close, but Eibhlinn's path is not as uncomplicated as either sister had hoped. Join Eibhlinn as she battles court intrigue and discovers her destiny … and her true heart's desire.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WDM Publishing
• Release date: Dec 14, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393148685

Debbie Mumford

Debbie Mumford specializes in speculative fiction—fantasy, paranormal romance, and science fiction. Author of the popular Sorcha’s Children series, Debbie loves the unknown, whether it’s the lure of space or earthbound mythology. Her work has been published in multiple volumes of Fiction River, as well as in Heart’s Kiss Magazine, Spinetingler Magazine, and other popular markets. She writes about dragon-shifters, time-traveling lovers, and ghostly detectives for adults as Debbie Mumford and contemporary fantasy for tweens and young adults as Deb Logan.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Eibhlinn

Eibhlinn raced along the corridor, her soft leather slippers adding a sibilant whisper to the swish of her long skirts and petticoats. Other ladies of her sister’s court would never demean themselves with such haste. Not only was it unseemly, but physical exertion led to pink cheeks, which were completely out of fashion. Aislinn’s ladies preferred pale, bloodless skin tones. Eibhlinn, however, was not like the other ladies; she was the queen-in-waiting’s sister, and like her royal sibling, a dragon-shifter. So no matter how calm and sedentary Eibhlinn tried to be, she would never achieve the desired alabaster complexion. No, the best she could hope was that her exertions would earn her a pink-cheeked glow to downplay the green tinge of her normal coloration.

For perhaps the thousandth time since arriving in Rossal to keep her sister, wife of Crown Prince Ewan and future queen of Rossal, company, Eibhlinn wished for a different heritage. Wished for the porcelain complexion and normal human-colored hair all the other court ladies enjoyed. Well, all but her sister, of course. Aislinn, as Eibhlinn’s sibling and clutch-mate, shared Eibhlinn’s interesting coloration. But Aislinn had already found her mate, so the vagaries of fashion were less important to her.

As a dragon, Aislinn’s scales were a deep midnight blue. Consequently when she wore human form, as she nearly always did now that she was Ewan’s wife, she was blue-eyed, her pale complexion carrying a soft blue tinge, and her hair was the blue-black of a midnight sky.

Similarly, while Eibhlinn’s dragon scales were emerald green, in human form she was green-eyed, her golden hair emblazoned with two emerald streaks, one at each temple. She rather liked her hair, it was the leaf-green tinge to her skin that worried her. Humans seemed to think that a greenish pallor indicated ill-health. So while the court had grown accustomed to Aislinn’s unusual coloration, folk still looked askance at Eibhlinn.

Setting her dissatisfaction with her appearance aside, Eibhlinn slowed to a decorous walk, smoothed her green-streaked golden locks and knocked lightly upon the carved wooden door to Aislinn’s sitting room.

Come, called her sister’s voice from within.

Eibhlinn lifted the latch, pushed the door open and stepped inside. A wash of scents met her sensitive nose. Roses and lavender, lilac and bee balm, spruce, sage, and rosemary. Aislinn had thrown open the windows overlooking the royal gardens. Sunlight streamed into the room burnishing the old stone walls with a golden luster and brightening the many tapestries.

Aislinn sat on the stone flagged floor with her young son Eoin, calling encouragement to him as he rocked on his pudgy hands and knees, trying to figure out how to crawl to his mother. A moment later a muffled pop sounded and the infant human disappeared, replaced by a bronze dragon hatchling who wasted no time reaching the comfort and safety of his mother’s arms.

Kissing her offspring, Aislinn laughed and smiled up at Eibhlinn. I’m not sure he’ll ever learn to crawl, she said. It’s so much easier to simply transform and get where he wants to be.

Eibhlinn joined them on the floor and held out her hands to her nephew. He quickly wriggled out of his mother’s embrace and ran to Eibhlinn. She lifted him into her lap and stroked his scales until he curled snout to tail and closed his eyes.

I wouldn’t worry about it. I’ve no idea whether we crawled or not, but we manage our human bodies just fine.

True enough, said Aislinn. I guess I’ll just have to get used to evading when my ladies ask me whether he’s attained this milestone or that. He’s healthy, and he shifts easily from human to dragon and back again. That’s all that matters.

Eibhlinn giggled. I’d like to see the other ladies’ babes try to achieve that!

Aislinn grinned and reached for Eibhlinn’s hand. You’re such a comfort to me. Ewan loves me, of course, but he can’t understand what it is to be a shifter. I’m afraid I’d be very lonely here without you.

Nonsense. The court adores you and King Dougal has certainly come around since Eoin’s birth.

And what a blessing that has been, Aislinn agreed. Especially for Ewan. I hated putting him the position of choosing between me and his father.

Eoin popped back to human infant and Eibhlinn swaddled the sleeping babe in a blanket and handed him to his mother. You’ve made quite an impression on this castle, young shifter, she murmured, helping Aislinn to her feet and accompanying her through the door to Eoin’s nursery.

This room was also light and airy, though the windows had been closed. Eibhlinn drew the drapes, darkening the room, while Aislinn carried the little prince to his cradle. This more closely resembled a cage, gilded though it might be, than a traditional infant’s bed. A normal cradle simply couldn’t be expected to keep the royal baby safe, not when he could transform into a hatchling in the blink of an eye. Aislinn sang a soft lullaby as she settled him in a warm nest of blankets, while Eibhlinn rang for Eoin’s nurse.

When the sisters returned to the sitting room, they found Aislinn’s husband Ewan and his cousin Declan waiting for them.

Ladies, said Ewan, taking Aislinn’s hands and kissing her cheek as he led her to a chair, how does our little prince this morning?

Aislinn smiled up at her tall husband. He’s bright and happy and has just settled in for a nap. She joined Ewan on the settle and nodded to Declan, Please, be seated, my lord.

Thank you, highness, Declan murmured and seated himself opposite his cousin.

Eibhlinn settled into a high-backed chair near her sister and smoothed the skirt of her pale pink morning gown. She’d chosen the gown because she knew the color suited her, made the tinge of green in her complexion and golden hair appear as healthy as the bud of a tender rosebud.

She closed her eyes and sought calm. Her brother-in-law’s handsome cousin always set her heart a flutter. He was the only human male to affect her so and she desperately wanted to appear calm and composed in his presence, wanted Declan to see her as beautiful, capable, and serene. She harbored secret hopes that they might make a match, bond as the dragons thought of it, and wanted to be everything a member of the royal family could desire in a mate.

Opening her eyes, she glanced at Declan and found him studying her. When their gazes met, he smiled, a slow, languid curve of sensuous lips. Eibhlinn’s heart raced and her cheeks flamed. Quickly she lowered her gaze and forced herself to concentrate on the scents of lavender, pine, candle wax and the faint whiff of smoke from burning wicks.

The scent of smoke brought her back to herself. Smoke. A familiar scent among dragonkind. She was a dragon. Not some silly maid infatuated with a handsome man. Dragons bonded for life, and she had a responsibility to choose her mate wisely, as her sister had done. Both sisters, actually. For while Aislinn was the wife of the crown prince and mother of the heir to the throne of Rossal, their other sister Morag had chosen to remain in the ice aerie. She too was now bonded, to Goban, a powerful charcoal dragon, and mother to a fine clutch of three … two shifters and a healthy dragon hatchling.

In truth, Eibhlinn was the last of their clutch of six to remain unbonded. Luag had not chosen a mate, either, but no one expected him to bond. Unlike Taran who was a powerful human wizard and had chosen a human wife, or Brandubh who had bonded with a gold female and was now living with a newly arrived weyr of dragons in the collective, Luag was expected to be the next rex of the ice aerie. As such, it was his destiny to remain unbonded, to have no loyalties above his duty to the aerie.

Aislinn and Ewan.

Taran and Senga.

Morag and Goban.

Brandubh and Ghaliya.

Would Eibhlinn add Declan’s name to the family roster? She raised her chin and smiled at him, calmly noting his nut-brown hair, deep blue eyes and well-muscled body. Yes. He might just be worthy of bonding with a dragon shifter.

Chapter 2

Royal Counselor

Ewan and Declan strode through the castle, booted steps ringing against the stone flags. Courtiers and servants alike stepped aside to make way for the cousins, bowing and smiling as they passed. Light streamed in from high leaded windows giving the stone walls a golden glow. A white-capped maid hurried past carrying a tray laden with food and the homely scents of bread and cinnamon wafted past.

Ewan smiled to himself, contentment washing over him. Life was good. When he’d been young, he’d wished for a brother, someone he could wrestle with and test himself against. Not a courtier, always anxious to make sure the prince came out on top, but someone of equal rank who wasn’t afraid to test his mettle. Fate had denied him a brother, but had given him Declan instead.

From the first time King Dougal’s younger brother, Lord Collum, had brought his young son to court, Ewan had found his peer. The cousins had become fast friends, so much so that Collum had agreed to foster his son with Dougal. The two boys had grown to manhood as constant companions, closer than many young men born to the same parents. When Ewan’s mother, Queen Brigid, had died in childbed, the longed-for brother with her, Declan had mourned with Ewan, comforting the young prince with his presence.

Even now, walking to his father’s study, Ewan couldn’t help but notice how evenly matched they were. Not an inch difference in height, their strides so similar they walked in unison without even trying. True, Declan’s hair was brown and his eyes blue, while Ewan sported black hair and dark brown eyes, but their long, straight noses, high cheekbones and firm chins were nearly identical. No one who saw the two young men together could doubt their blood relation.

A few of Ewan’s other friends had commented on a certain shiftiness in Declan’s eyes and an occasional tendency to cruel jokes and speech, but Ewan had never seen such behavior and refused to listen to any aspersions on his cousin’s character. His men quickly ceased to tell him such tales, and Ewan marked the ones he’d heard up to jealousy. Declan was his favorite; of course other, less deserving men would try to disparage him.

As one, the cousins stopped before King Dougal’s study door. Declan waited while Ewan knocked.

Enter, called the king.

Opening the door, Declan bowed his cousin inside, following close on Ewan’s heels.

You sent for us, Father? Ewan said, stopping before Dougal’s desk and motioning Declan to stand beside him.

I did indeed, King Dougal said, standing and walking around the desk. Join me beside the fire. We have things to discuss.

Ewan glanced at Declan, but his cousin wore a confused expression. They followed the king to a sitting area before the hearth. The king settled in a handsomely carved chair and stretched his legs toward the fire. Ewan and Declan chose seats to either side of their monarch, where they could still see each other.

Sire, said Ewan after a few moments had passed. Is something amiss?

The king looked up. What? No. No indeed. It’s just that you two are no longer boys. Ewan is married and a father, Declan a man full-grown. It’s time we formalized Declan’s place at court.

The cousins glanced at each other, then back to the king.

Ewan’s place is, of course, well known. He’s my heir. The crown prince. The king-in-waiting. But you, Declan, you can’t spend your life as companion to the prince, nor even nephew to the king. You need your own title, your own lands and position. You need responsibility.

Declan lowered his eyes and said quietly, I am content in whatever role you assign, my liege. If it is nothing but sworn man, then I am honored to be allowed to swear to your service.

Ewan grinned, his heart bursting with pride at his cousin’s humility and grace.

King Dougal waved the words away. Nonsense, boy. You’ve been raised with my son, taught by the same masters. Beyond that you are of royal blood, my own brother’s son. I’m giving you the lands of the late Earl of Lastallon. He died without issue and his line is no more. There’s a very competent steward at Lastallon, you needn’t worry overmuch about the running of the estate. He’ll keep it up and will send you regular reports.

Declan sat bolt upright, his face white with shock. M-m-my Lord! I don’t know what to say, he stammered. I never expected…

Think nothing of it, my boy, or should I say, Earl Lastallon? Dougal’s eyes shone with delighted merriment and he clapped his hands to regain the young men’s attention. So, that takes care of lands and title. Now you need a position at court. Since everyone is already accustomed to seeing you with the prince, I’m appointing you as Royal Counselor. You are to advise Ewan on such matters of state as I place in his hands. Which you would no doubt do anyway, but now you have my permission, nay, my command to do so.

Excellent choice, Father, Ewan said, grinning broadly at his cousin. Declan will be my first advisor and will remain my most trusted counselor when I eventually take the throne. He turned to his father and said more soberly, I trust that will be many years in the future. Plenty of time for Dec and me both to learn our roles.

The king nodded. Well said. Well said, indeed, son. Dougal rose to his feet and moved back to his desk. Ewan and Declan followed.

Shuffling through some papers, the king pulled out a parchment and examined it. Yes, he said, laying it on the desk and motioning the young men forward. Your first task as prince and counselor will be to travel to Glengorm and negotiate a trade agreement with Leofric.

But that’s wonderful, Father, Ewan exclaimed. I’ll be able to take Aislinn and Eoin to visit her parents. Eibhlinn will accompany us, of course. He stopped and studied his father’s face. There’s no reason we shouldn’t mix a family visit with official business, is there?

Dougal clapped him on the shoulder. None at all. In fact, I was counting on it. His eyes twinkled as he continued, Might as well put Leofric off guard by reminding him of how closely our realms are connected these days. You might even get more favorable conditions out of him if he’s busy admiring that adorable little grandson of mine.

Ewan laughed, but noticed a shadow cross Declan’s face. He started to comment, but Dec’s face cleared and he smiled and said, Rest assured, sire, we’ll take advantage of every opportunity that arises.

I’ve no doubt, Declan. No doubt at all. Dougal grinned at his nephew. You were born to be a royal counselor, my boy. Born to it.

Chapter 3

A Royal Visit

Eibhlinn sat on the cushioned seat of the royal carriage, velvet shades drawn down against the dust of the road, and endured the second day of the dark, dank, jostling ride to Glengorm. Why hadn’t she told Aislinn she’d meet her at Leofric’s castle and then flown, like any other self-respecting dragon? For that matter, why had Aislinn agreed to this uncomfortable little prison on the seemingly endless journey when she could have flown?

It was different for the men. Ewan and Declan were astride horses, out in the fresh air, in the lead, away from the miserable dust thrown up by hooves and wheels. They weren’t shut up inside this airless little cell being bounced around like sacks of potatoes.

She peered at Aislinn through the gloom and said, Tell me again why we aren’t flying? We could’ve already been with Mother and Father! And don’t tell me it’s because of Eoin. He’d have done fine in a basket. We did often enough.

Aislinn fanned herself and lifted the gauze netting covering Eoin’s travel bed. Satisfied that her son was sleeping peacefully, she turned to Eibhlinn. I know it’s uncomfortable, she said. But it makes life easier for Ewan. Dougal accepts me now, and is even pleased that Eoin is a shifter, but he doesn’t like to be reminded that I’m not fully human.

Eibhlinn sighed and reached for her sister’s hand. I know. I’m sorry. It’s just that it’s been too long since I’ve flown, and this carriage is making me feel like a prisoner.

Laughing, Aislinn squeezed her hand in return. I know, me too. Thanks for putting up with it for my sake.

Settling back against the cushioned seat, Eibhlinn opened her fan with a flick of her wrist and waved the delicate contraption, enjoying the play of air across her heated face. She smiled to herself, pleased to have finally mastered the small movement that other ladies of the court accomplished without thought. So many things she’d learned in this last year. Things human women had been trained to since birth. Things completely alien to a dragon. What use had a dragon for fans or corsets and stays? Why, dragons didn’t even bother with audible speech, preferring to mind-speak their fellows. Eibhlinn had become so thoroughly human, that she rarely even mind-spoke Aislinn anymore. Instead, they spoke aloud in deference to Ewan and the other full-humans of the court.

After what seemed an eternity, the carriage slowed and came to a bumpy stop. Male voices sounded outside, jovial and deep. The carriage door popped open and sunshine flooded the carriage’s interior. Eibhlinn blinked against the glare after hours trapped in murky gloom, and then Declan was handing her out and leading her from the edge of the road to a grassy meadow dotted with wildflowers. The sun stood high in the sky and the air was warm, but a breeze played with her skirts and lifted damp strands of hair from her neck, breathing heavenly coolness across her heated skin.

The grooms were spreading blankets for a picnic in the shade of a large oak tree. The young men hurried back and forth to the carriage, carrying hampers of food, Eoin’s travel bed, and other necessities for the impromptu meal, setting up a second site