A Bride for the Mountain God (Divine Dragons 2)

Shock prompted a knee-jerk response from my mouth before I knew what it would be.

“No.”

The Mountain God’s dark brow arched comically, and a befuddled expression twisted his perfectly sculpted features. “No?”

I sucked in a shaky breath. “Right. No. I’m not a bride or a mate—whatever that is.”

His exasperation morphed into mounting irritation. “Life mate. Soulmate. Mate. Whatever you want to call it doesn’t matter. They sacrificed you to me, and you answered the song of the forest. You are my wife.”

“I didn’t say ‘I do’ in a union ceremony,” I snapped.

Fully sitting back on his heels now, still straddling me, he lifted and dropped his shoulders. “It’s no matter what mortal rituals you imagine make a union. You answered the song, and we are bound now.”

Every visceral ounce of my body was caught up in the crosshairs of turmoil. The logical half of my mind yearned to retreat from the monstrous—handsome—dragon man sitting atop me and voicing the loss of my agency and choice. A silent yet growing louder half rose under the surface, enraptured with the god and longing to succumb to the truth of his statement.

“I am no such thing!” Before further argumentative mewls breached my lips, the god surged upward. A yelp flitted from me as he snatched me up and promptly tossed me over his shoulder without so much as a grunt on his part. And I was no dainty thing. The strength and ease with which he picked me up and began sauntering through the woods stunned me into silence.

“Put me down!” I squawked at last.

“No,” he intoned. I screeched, wriggling in his arms. He didn’t even flinch, instead he carried on speaking. “What’s your name, wife?”

“I’m not telling you anything.” I did my best to cross my arms over his shoulder. At that angle, I watched the ground beneath us as he walked, the swish of his long, serpentine tail, and the gentle sway of the wings folded against his back.

Smack!

Rippling pain radiated across my smarted ass cheek. An indignant cry erupted from me at the shock of having my behind slapped by a dragon—a god—of all people!

The heat that hadn’t completely quelled in my loins since he’d licked my neck and chest flared back to the surface. I jolted on his shoulder, legs thrashing harder than before.

“Name?”

“I’m not telling you!”

Smack!

I gritted my teeth as my other cheek flamed. A self-satisfied rumbling vibrated in his chest, and I felt it against my stomach. My face burned almost as much as my smacked bottom.

“Where are you from?” he mused. “That little kingdom in my shadow, I suppose.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know!” I spat, not nearly as confident with my lack of breath.

Smack!

The loss of dignity in that position mortified me. All my good sense as a royal born and bred made me blanch under my circumstances. Tossed over the Mountain God’s shoulder, being carried through the woods in the middle of the night, and his oversized, claw-tipped hands smarting my backside. Yet some wanton force in the depths of my being wanted to cave to the increasing arousal soaking my underwear. I wanted to devolve into a writhing mess of moans and whimpers under those hands.

It would be a betrayal of all my better senses if I did, but I couldn’t quite maintain my dignity while dangling over a dragon’s shoulder, could I? But I could irritate him, as dangerous as that option was. Keeping my answers guarded or nonexistent seemed like the most lucrative option in my current state of mind.

“Quite unbecoming of my new wife to endeavor to keep secrets from me,” he bemoaned with dramatic flair, as if my impetuousness was the greatest insult to his sensibilities. “Name?”

“Bugger off!”

Smack!

“Ouch,” I gritted through my teeth, reeling from the ache blossoming across my ass and echoing as a throb between my thighs.

“Hm,” he tutted, “better get used to saying that, I think.”

“How dare you!” I wriggled again. “I am a princess, and you’ve no right—”

“Ah, that answers one of my questions, then. A daughter of King Nelus, are you?” He didn’t phrase it like he needed my confirmation. So, I went silent, stewing from my accidental slip of information. “That old bastard has many children. Let me guess, his subjects pressured him into sacrificing one of his brood as penance for his egregious sins?”

The Mountain God scoffed. I imagined him rolling his eyes as well, though all I had a view of was his delightfully well sculpted backside. Gods, the muscles on him, green or not, were positively sinful.

Smack!

I bit my tongue to remain silent, though I was sure he felt how tense I’d gone on his shoulder. He made a brief grunting noise and continued ambling through the darkened woods in an uphill direction. I swayed on his shoulder, bristling from the persistent ache in my behind that I hated to admit I didn’t exactly mind.

When I thought he’d go the rest of the night without uttering another word, I was disappointed when he spoke. Or so I tried to convince myself.

“It won’t be enough, you know. Your sacrifice.” He heard my near silent huff. “Not that you aren’t a magnificent prize for me as beautiful as you are. A bit stubborn, and especially bratty, though I can handle that.” Then his giant palm massaged over my stinging ass cheek. “And you have such a nice round ass. I’m truly not mad about that.”

The compliment brought a pink flush to my face. Almost too stunned to speak, I fumbled with a response. “What do you mean, my sacrifice won’t be enough?”

“King Nelus has done too much damage. If he wants my mercy, sending my fated mate would be enough to earn it. Though that was a complete coincidence on his part, so I’m not sure I’ll grant it. Aside from that, sacrificing you won’t account for the forest spirits that he’s angered.”

“Don’t you control them? You’re the Mountain God, after all.”

His hand continued massaging my backside, idly groping while walking, as if he had all the time in the world to familiarize himself with my ass. “God of the Mountains and Nature, King of Forest Spirits. Sure, in theory I could. But spirits aren’t like mortals. There’s a balance, and Nelus not only disturbed it, but savaged it.”

“So, what will become of me?” My voice came out small, timid.

The Mountain God stopped then. Big hands curled around my waist in a way no man had ever managed before. He didn’t seem to mind the overly soft curves of my belly and hips. In fact, I think he gripped them a bit ardently, like he enjoyed the feel of me as he lifted me off his shoulder and set me on the ground.

On my feet, I craned my head back, gazing far up ahead at the mountainous dragon man looming over me. My head stopped at his sternum, right at his heaving chest and bulky pectorals. Holy hells, his dark green scales stretched over those muscles made my mouth water.

Focus! Stop thinking with the heart between your legs, I scolded myself.

“Tell me your name, for starters.” He smoothed a hand over my shoulder, catching a tangled lock of my hair. My breath caught at the low scrape of his voice.

“Nia,” I responded, albeit reluctantly.

“Good girl.” Then his knuckles grazed my face in a featherlight touch, and my knees rubbed together in search of friction. “Well, Princess Nia, first I’m going to get you fed and cleaned up. Then you will rest, and you will spend the rest of eternity by my side.”

He sounded so sure of it, I almost agreed.

“Eternity?” I openly gaped at him, mouth hanging open like a fish. “Wait, where are you taking me?” I blinked rapidly to clear the trance I’d fallen into.

He chuckled, dark and brutally beautiful, before carefully grasping my shoulders. He spun me around until my back pressed into his front. I paused, first focusing on the feeling of tensing abs and warm, powerful hands on my body. Then the moonlight cleaved through the gray clouds in the sky, illuminating the massive, tiered structure built into the side of the enormous mountain.

“Why, my home, of course. No mortal has ever stepped foot this deep into the forbidden forest or set eyes on this place before. Welcome to the Mountain Palace, wife.”

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