Dragon Knight-Commander (A Cullen Rutherford Shapeshifter Romance)

Prologue

Commander Cullen Rutherford

From a distance, he watched her, lying on her belly, covering her face - hand held aloft as the demons around her shimmered and stilled in a swirl of blue light. Commander Cullen Rutherford listened to his soldiers muttering about blood magic as they all witnessed the subdued darkspawn submitting before her.  Mounds of dead gristle and fur surrounded the girl's body as his warrior, Cassandra, hacked through the frozen creatures and the dwarf Varric needed only one shot to take out the essence of the rage demon and send it back to hell.

She looked half-crazed and he felt his men's fear because only the most powerful dark mage could possibly have so much control over this evil. Yet in his bones, he knew that she could turn out to be their most powerful weapon. He became fascinated with the juxtaposition of such a tiny, bedraggled mite dominating the most abhorred creatures in Thedas. He had never seen anyone act so bravely in his life, for her terror dripped off her in waves. Even his youngest recruit's first taste of battle had never required this amount of bravado.

At the end, when the Inquisitor, Maxwell, closed the rift, only the horses shifting under the soldiers could be heard.  He expected his men to cheer, but every soldiers' face projected horror. Cullen cursed under his breath. The rumours that she unleashed the fallen had reached Skyhold and if he took her there, he could have a mutiny on his hands. Especially if she turned out to be as evil as they said she was.

She turned, noticing the army for the first time. Her hand flew to her mouth and she stumbled backwards at a run, now afraid of his men. She would look guilty if she ran. He saw Maxwell catch her as she fell, dark silhouettes against the backdrop of the setting sun.

Cullen raised a hand to stop his army from following and kicked his heels into his horse's flanks. Within minutes he was up the other side of the small valley.

'It is done, Inquisitor?' he asked Maxwell.

Maxwell stood. 'Yes, Commander. All three rifts closed. What of the Feralden soldiers to the west?'

'No longer a threat but there will be more from where they came from. They were organised. We must retreat to Skyhold and send out scouts. My soldiers need rest. Can she walk?' he pointed at the girl. Her limp body stretched out beneath him.

'She has been through much,' said Maxwell, 'but Maker's Blood did you see what she can do?'

'She must be kept safe. The Chantry fears her. Even my men fear her. We will let it be known that she is under our protection and the wrath of the Inquisition will rain down upon anyone who tries to harm her. Hand her up,' he ordered.

Varric and Maxwell lifted her rag-doll body up to the saddle. She flopped like her spine had been ripped out.

'Careful, she's as weak as a kitten,' Cullen said.

She would not be able to sit up. He shifted back in his saddle and cradled her across him, one hand holding her close to his armoured torso. He used his fur surcoat like a sling to allow her head to rest inside it. He tucked the other end into the saddle so she could curl up her feet against it.

He looked down into two blue eyes that held his, assessing him. He felt an unfurling sensation deep inside as his dragon woke up and clawed to get out. He fought back, bit his lip and tasted the coppery tang of his own blood. A fire spread through his body, a slow, caustic burn that the lyrium suppressed for so long but without it, he was defenceless to do anything other than feel.

'Yah!' He spurred his horse on and up the hill where fifty men awaited his command. The burn turned into a pulsing need. A need to give her everything. It had been years since he'd endured this inner conflict with his dark alter ego. His dragon always picked the wrong women. He could not afford to have that happen again. Not when he was in the middle of a bloody war. The burn, the desire to conquer her body was as strong as the drive to protect her. The latter at least he could satisfy.

When he reached the top he addressed his men. 'Today was a good day. I was proud to stand up and fight with every last man. Tonight we eat and rest. For tomorrow war continues. Are you with me?'

'Aye,' shouted the men, raising swords.

'Today the brave efforts of your Inquisitor, Varric, Cassandra and this girl have given us another night's rest. The demons have been slain, three more rifts have been closed. Tonight we will protect this girl, for tomorrow the darkspawn will fear her touch again. Are you with me?'

'Aye!'

'To Skyhold,' he yelled and led his men at a gallop back to their barracks.