Billionaire Dragon's Bride(5)

Mossy green and wheaten-gold scales caught the last rays of light as the beasts headed in opposite directions, east and west, paying her no heed whatsoever. Gemma’s heart was pounding in her throat, and for a moment, she thought she might just turn around and head back as she’d done several times before – and those times there hadn’t even been any dragons trying to casually throw her off the path and into the rocky ravines to either sides of it.

Perhaps she should have been more surprised than she was, but dragons had become a more common sight around Gold Valley lately.

When Dayton Bluewing – the last of the old generation Bluewings – died, the town had got to enjoy what could only be described as the who’s who of dragon royalty flying over their modest little houses and making the earth tremble and quake with their roars. It was enough to make a girl somewhat unimpressed by the meager gathering now, though the three dragons she just witnessed were certainly bigger than most of the dragons, who had been in the area last time. Almost as big as Devon Bluewing himself, she thought.

It had been months since the burial ceremonies concluded and the last of the dragons had left, other than Devon himself of course. One night, the air had turned cold and crisp, and the sky had been without a single cloud, the air trembling with the most beautiful music anyone in town had ever heard. Gemma remembered one of the older locals, who had been around when Dayton’s wife Gabriella died, saying that it was the dragons saying their last goodbyes to a fallen brother.

The stark gloominess of the skies now seemed like a violent departure from the serenity of that day. Idly, Gemma wondered what could have brought the dragons back to the keep now.

Despite the recent crowds, it had been a long time since dragons came to Gold Valley with any kind of regularity. There was always a Bluewing to guard over it, but none of the others could be seen, except for rare glimpses once a decade or so, when the council gathered. Sometimes, more than one Bluewing roamed the sky briefly, but that too was something to remark upon and gasp at, not just shrug off and forget about. Dragons had made themselves scarce in those parts, and Gemma wasn’t entirely convinced it was only because there were fewer and fewer of them to fill the skies.

Her palms had crashed into the dirt as she came tumbling down, and the jagged earth prickled at her skin. One would never imagine that there was gold hidden in Gold Valley by the looks of the place (though the name should have been hint enough!)

The tale went that dragons had found Gold Valley and the rest of Treasure Lane long before humans came to be. The beasts had guarded and protected the mountains and rivers plush with gold, but it was only when humans came to the areas that the dragons could really reap their bounty. And so they did. The lands were divided up between the most powerful dragon families, and alliances were formed when tensions rose between different factions.

There were many pockets of wealth like Treasure Lane dotted all over the world, but few as rich and inviting as this. So, the dragons made a pact to protect it and avoid slaying one another over petty rivalries – as dragons were prone to doing – and formed a council where only the wisest of dragons could represent the needs and desires of their kin. Under that guidance, Gold Valley had been formed, forever indebted to the Bluewing dragons and set to serve them, if the humans wished to remain in the lands.

Gold Valley produced some of the best gold in the world, and it was the home of the most talented craftsmen, the town having lived and breathed gold for as long as it had been around. As such, it was in both the best interest of the dragons and the humans for it to stay intact.

The dragons profited from keeping the humans there, of course, as they helped fund their riches. Some of the traditions that had been formed over the centuries were now long outdated but still ripe in the pages of the town’s history. One of those traditions was the one that now caused Gemma such aggravation.

Each year, the town had to pay the Bluewings a bounty set by the dragons. It was supposed to be fair but just high enough to make the craftsmen worry and toil, as they couldn’t just hand over chunks of gold – no, it had to be carefully made into gorgeous jewelry and nothing but the best would do for the dragons.

But, with each generation, there were less and less craftsmen in town, and so the bounties were harder to fulfill on time.

And now, Devon Bluewing had made it more than clear that what used to be enough would no longer be anywhere near adequate. It could potentially drive people from their homes – after toiling over the dragon’s work, there wouldn’t be enough gold to sell to put food on the table. Of course, no one dared disagree with the dragon, but dammit, Gemma couldn’t just endure it without saying a word. He might have been a big bully, but he was just going to have to see reason.