Alex’s strangled shout hadn’t yet erupted from his throat when he realized the knife hadn’t gone into Elaina’s skin. Thank the holy what-the-fuck-was-that. He looked up from his new position of kneeling at her feet after he’d lunged toward her.
“Sorry.” She lifted his chin and closed his mouth. “I should have warned you, huh?”
While he debated how to answer, she offered, “Dragon scales are harder than metal, even in this form. My skin can’t be cut by anything other than dragon claws or teeth. Dragons have but one weak spot in their armor where they can be stabbed.”
He vaguely recalled more of the mythology. “Over their heart.”
“Correct. But dragon hearts aren’t here.” She tapped alongside her left breast, where she’d aimed the blade. “Only the one true knight—or other dragons—can see the real location of our heart and hurt us.”
He was hardly listening. The knife seized his attention, where she absently ran her fingertip along the edge, proving her invulnerability.
“Then maybe we should search for this knight. Pay him to take care of your father.”
A noise suspiciously like a whimper sounded from her, and then she cleared her throat. “No, thanks. The knight’s ability comes from magic, not genetics, so his instinct compels him to kill dragons.” A shudder overtook her body, and she hugged her stomach. “He couldn’t resist killing me too. Even if you tried to find him on your own, he’d assume you’d learned about knights by talking to a dragon. And since my father’s not the talking type, the knight would stalk you to find your source of information, obsessed with hunting me down.”
That explained her sudden fear the previous night when she’d thought him this knight. She’d honestly believed he’d slay her on the spot. He squeezed her leg, reminding her that he was still there, offering his protection.
She uncurled her body. “It’ll take years—decades—for me to collect enough treasure to shapeshift into my dragon form. Until then, I don’t even have claws, teeth, or fire for protection.”
“Can’t you attack him?”
“What part of ‘I can’t protect myself’ don’t you understand? If I can’t defend myself, how could I possibly be strong enough to attack—even if I hadn’t taken a vow of non-violence? No, running is my only choice.”
He hated the whiff of resignation in her attitude, but he didn’t have a better answer for her. During his questions, she’d continued stroking the edge of the blade, and his focus skipped between her fingertip and the spot the knife-tip had hit, checking for any sign of damage.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
She rolled her eyes and tugged her low-cut T-shirt even lower, showing her unblemished skin. “See?”
Oh yes, he saw. He saw perfection. The rounded top of her breast was unmarked in any way, appearing ripe and ready to eat. The sight erased all questions about her father.
He nibbled at the unharmed spot. “There’s a shortage of perfect breasts in this world. It would be a pity to damage yours.”
At her scoff, he pulled back. “What? You’ve never seen The Princess Bride? I’ve been waiting my whole life to use that line.”
She laughed and pushed him away. “Go finish your dinner.”
“As you wish.” He winked.
But when he sat in his chair and picked up his steak knife, the image of the blade rushing toward her stuck in his mind. He dropped the knife and shoved his plate away.
She looked at his mostly untouched food. “I thought you were starving. You need to keep up your strength.”
He couldn’t admit that he didn’t want to touch the pointed utensil again. That probably wasn’t high on the list of attributes that impressed females of any species.
She slid the plate back toward him. “I’m serious. I’m worried I might be draining energy from you. Sleep helps dragons recharge, when we’re in contact with our treasure. But I wasn’t touching my bag with my lockbox—I was touching you.”
“And yet you recharged anyway?”
“Yes, I, uh, I dreamed I was holding treasure.”
Spots of color appeared on her cheeks. He hadn’t known she could blush.
That must have been some dream. He was arrogant enough to guess it had something to do with him.
As though she knew exactly where his assumptions had gone, she hissed, and the blue of her irises flared, giving him a split-second warning to sit back before she launched herself at him. She landed, straddling his lap, and her sharp nails dug into his jaw and neck. Her glare briefly made him wonder if full-dragons could burn things simply by looking at them.
“Eat or I’ll make you eat.”
God, her dominant shit turned him on. This, more than anything, hinted at how well-matched they could be. He squeezed her ass against him to let her feel how much he liked it.
“I’m counting on it.” He kissed a trail from her earlobe to the low neckline of her T-shirt. “We both know you want me to have the strength later to show you a few things.”
She leaned away, as though about to deny his words. He continued nibbling across her chest until her head dropped back. He ground her hips down on him again, and her breath caught.
“Okay, yeah, that sounds like a plan.”
Good girl. To continue this game where they could somehow both be dominant, he indicated the table. “Now feed me.”
With no objection, she twisted on his lap toward his plate. Could there be anything sexier? A gorgeous woman, her ass and inner thighs rubbing against him when she moved, her shirt tight in all the right places as she leaned toward the table, and to top it all off, she was serving him. He was tempted to skip to dessert.
Her hand hovered over his knife, but after a hesitation, she avoided it. The nail on her index finger extended into a three-inch-long claw, erasing any doubts of her lethal potential. She sliced through his steak like butter.
She noticed his attention and dropped her arm to her lap. “Sorry, that’s probably pretty freaky.”
“No,” he lied.
In truth, the image was disconcerting, but nothing he’d reject more than any other of her differences. He caught her wrist and placed a kiss on the smooth top side of the talon.
“Though things could get interesting with these later when I make you lose your mind.” He swirled his tongue in her palm.
“What? Oh...” Her fingers reflexively curled. “So far, just this one changes, and it grows only when I want it to.” She held up her hand, showing the transformation to her normal curved nail.
Good to know. Of course, her fingernails were rather pointy on their own.
He stroked his thumb over her knuckles. “As long as I survive the experience well enough to repeat it, I have no problem with you losing control.”
Those ground rules likely would have made a normal man pause, but he was in too deep to care.
The glow of her eyes wavered. “How did you get to be so...”
“Perfect?”
He expected her to reject his statement. When she nodded speechlessly instead, his throat thickened, turning breathing into a struggle.
He had to keep this woman. And the best way to make that happen was to understand her situation.
“I’ll eat if you tell me everything there is to know about this father of yours. Where is he? Why is he after you? Everything. Agreed?”
Rather than appearing defensive at this line of discussion, she brought his fork laden with a piece of steak. Once he took the offered bite, she began. “When I was a youngling, I always thought I was lucky. I mean, I had a happy family—my parents were together, and that’s unheard of in dragon society.”
“Unheard of?”
Her brows pulled together, and she fetched him another forkful. “I guess I need to start with Dragonology 101.”
He couldn’t confirm her observation because of his mouthful of food, but she seemed to understand the meaning of his “go ahead” gesture.
“Dragons don’t have the concept of community that humans do because they’re too jealous of each other’s hoards and too protective of their own. The only times dragons interact are with younglings, like how my teacher Nastav did, or for procreation.”
He wasn’t sure he wanted to know how procreation worked with two full-dragons, and fortunately, she didn’t go into the details.
“Other than when we’re young and receive lessons, dragons are solitary creatures.” Although she spoke matter-of-factly, a note of sadness sounded in her words. “The whole idea of any type of education is recent, as before Nastav, no dragon had ever volunteered for the job. I think the adults thought him rather senile.” Fondness shone in her eyes. “He is extremely old.”
The society, if it could be called that, she described didn’t sound appealing. And based on her tone, he guessed she didn’t miss any of it other than her teacher.
After another bite of food, she shrugged. “Anyway, against that environment, my parents were rebels. Or I should say, my mother was. I think she was the dragon version of a hippie. She believed in love.” Elaina scoffed. “She believed dragons could love. And she thought she loved my father. So she convinced him to stay with her so they could raise me together.”
What did that scoff mean? It sounded as though Elaina didn’t believe in love. Or worse, that she didn’t think dragons could love. Rather than pursue a conversation he wasn’t ready for anyway, he concentrated on the promising aspect of her explanation.
“Does that mean it would be safe for me to meet your mother?”
“You can’t. She’s dead.”
Damn it. What an ass. He’d missed the past-tense clue.
“My father killed her when I was fourteen.” Her voice quieted. “I don’t know what provoked him, but I saw the end of his attack. He carved her with countless slashes but never pierced her heart, so her death dragged on until she lost too much blood. Right up to the end, my mother was proclaiming her love for him, begging him not to do this to her, asking him to trust in their love.”
No wonder she’d taken a vow of non-violence. Alex squeezed her tight. “I’m sorry.”
She twisted away, hiding her face, and stabbed another piece of food. Hunger was the last thing on his mind after all that, but he accepted the mouthful to keep her talking.
“Normally, dragons stay with one of their parents for their first twenty-five years. Then they need to leave before their parent worries the child will kill them for their treasure. If younglings stay too long, their parent might kill them instead.”
Wonderful. What a beautiful portrait of dragon family life she painted.
“But you left ten years ago.” He put the pieces together. “After your mother’s death.”
“One of the few rituals of dragon society is called Zìwǒ, our rite of passage. Younglings must be strong enough to steal an item from their parent’s cache but not so strong that their parent feels their entire hoard is in danger. After a youngling successfully steals something from their parent and escapes, they’re considered an adult.”
“You used the word stealing.” His eyebrow lifted on a tease. “I thought you said what dragons did wasn’t stealing.”
She dipped her chin, and a tiny smile spread across her features. “True. In this context, stealing is the best way to describe it. Younglings aren’t strong enough to claim anything from their parent’s collection, so it’s simply a physical grabbing and running. If they escape from their parent’s territory, the item bonds to them and becomes their talisman, the conduit for accessing the energy of the rest of their hoard and the core of all their strength. Parents are supposed to let the matter drop and consider themselves lucky they didn’t lose more treasure.”
“Your father didn’t let the matter drop,” he guessed.
“It’s more complicated than that.” She winced and gave him another bite. “He went crazy after killing my mother.”
Alex would argue her father was crazy before that—for the killing itself—but didn’t interrupt.
“I sneaked away while he stayed with her body. He sat and watched her for a long time. Days, nearly a week. I almost thought he regretted what he’d done. If he had, I could have forgiven him, and we still could have tried being a family.”
Her voice dropped into an abyss on the word family, and her spine curled inward, pained, protecting. Cold crept up Alex’s limbs, and his heartbeat became sluggish. He didn’t want to hear the next part of her story.
“But as soon as he saw me, he became enraged again, spouting craziness about how he had to get rid of me and my whole existence. His reaction didn’t make any sense—it was personal, about me, which was all the more terrifying. So I hid.” Her voice broke. “And then he ripped my mother’s body into pieces and screamed that it was all her fault.”
“I’m so sorry.” His words were meaningless against her memories.
“At that moment, I knew he’d lost his mind. He’d come after me next unless I got away from him. Even though no youngling had ever survived it at that age, I decided to go through my Zìwǒ early. I took the ruby my mother had given him, the only thing of his I’d want.”
Her hands twisted after she fed him a bite of vegetables. “He sensed when I stole the gem and chased me through the tunnels. I escaped through a narrow passage that was too tight for him to follow me at full speed.”
“Tunnels?” He sipped his wine and tried to picture her story. “Like underground?”
“Yes, I grew up in a cave. Other than me, all dragons live in caves inside the mountains of Europe and Asia.” Her brows arched, as though daring him to comment. “Your point?”
He gave her a casual shrug, showing that he wasn’t judging her.
“Once I crossed the boundary of his territory, the ruby bonded to me, giving me enough strength to survive on my own, but just barely. Dragons are supposed to stay with their parent until the age of twenty-five so their parent’s treasure can keep their heart beating while they’re growing. I didn’t get that benefit. Instead, every ounce of energy I acquired went to keeping my heart going. I’m a runt compared to other dragons.”
No question she was petite. He’d assumed that was simply the way she was and not a sign of how unhealthy she’d been for ten years. Once again, his protective instinct reared, and he moved to pull her closer, keep her safe in his arms.
She interrupted his consoling attempt by resuming her story. “My father chased me across Europe and Asia for the next four years. If I hadn’t learned how to fake my way through human society, he’d have caught me long ago. I never lost him for more than a few weeks until I moved to America.”
“Have you seen him since then?”
“No, I don’t think he can imagine that I’d come here.”
“Why not?”
If her father was that intent on hunting her down, after losing track of her for the six years she’d been here, wouldn’t he have followed every possibility?
“Because he can’t imagine coming here, with all the logistics of integrating into human society enough to acquire an ID and pass the scrutiny of airport security. I mean, he’d find a way if he had proof I was here, like that picture, but otherwise, he’ll assume I’m somewhere over there.”
Her words from the previous night came back to him, how she was the only dragon living among humans. Until this moment, he hadn’t understood how different dragon society was, how separate they were from humans despite being born humanoid.
Logically, those differences should have prompted him to question whether they could be truly compatible, but he couldn’t make himself think of her as strange. The more he learned, the more she amazed him. She’d accomplished so much and come so far on her own.
“Other dragons don’t live in apartments and have regular jobs, I take it?”
She snickered. “Other dragons don’t know how to work a doorknob, much less drive a car or anything else normal.”
“No cars? How did he chase you?” An image of her and her father jogging across Europe and Asia came to mind. She couldn’t have meant he’d literally chased her like that.
“I traveled by train, bus, hitchhiking, you name it. He flew.”
“I thought you said he couldn’t get through airport—”
She placed her finger against his lips. “No, he flew.”
Oh... Dragon. Wings. Flying. Jesus. Now it made sense that her father wouldn’t have thought about her flying—in an airplane—over the ocean. Of course, this confirmed her father could change into his dragon form. Wonderful.
“And the Atlantic is too big for him to fly across on his own?”
After she verified his guess, he asked the obvious. “How do you know he’s still searching for you? It’s been six years since he’s seen you and ten years since whatever it was provoked him to start all this. Perhaps he’s cooled down since then.”
“If you saw how relentless he was, you wouldn’t question it.” She grimaced and ducked her head. “One time I was sloppy, and he caught up to me in Greece. By the time I escaped, his attempts to kill me triggered huge fires that devastated homes and killed people.”
Her shoulders hunched, and she shivered on his lap.
“People died because of me. I’m not willing to risk that happening again on the off-chance that he’s no longer insane.”
He couldn’t fathom the psychosis behind her father’s behavior. The situation was different from what he’d experienced, and these dragon attitudes didn’t add up in his mind. But he let the matter drop—for now. Later, after he knew more about dragons in general, he might be able to make better sense of it.
“Okay, you’ve been living in relative peace since coming here, and you need to keep your presence under wraps to maintain that peace. The immediate problem is you have to build up your treasure collection beyond mere survival so you’re not always on the verge of starvation. But I get the feeling that what you really want is simply to stop worrying.”
She stiffened, and her fingers fanned against her collarbone.
He sat back. “What did I get wrong?”
“Nothing.” Before he could ask, she added, “And that’s what’s so surprising. You understand this, Alex. You understand me.”
That was quite a compliment coming from her, especially since he wouldn’t go as far as claiming he understood everything.
She stroked along his jaw. “I don’t know how you can be so accepting of everything. Why aren’t you freaking out? We’re so different, and yet you act as though it’s no big deal.”
“Because with you it doesn’t feel like a big deal.” He tugged on her hips. “This feels natural enough to me. You’re just you, and I like you however you are.”
The glow in her eyes wavered again, as though it might be a dragon-type of tearing up. Her attention settled on his lips. Dinner was over.
Time for dessert.
He held her tight and stood from the chair. Her legs wrapped around his hips, and he carried her to the bed. Their bed.
She stretched up to him from the mattress. He kissed her palm and yanked off his shirt. She began removing her shirt as well, and he stopped her.
“I’ll do it.”
She nodded and cast her gaze across his chest. Those bench presses he did to keep in shape were worth every drop of sweat. Her appreciation justified barbells of solid gold.
He lay next to her, his hand entwined with hers at the bottom of her shirt. He propped himself on his other elbow and skimmed his fingers over her hair.
“I’m going to make this good for you. I promise.”
“I know. I trust you.”
And if that wasn’t a damnable amount of responsibility, he didn’t know what was. He rocked forward, ready to start with a gentle kiss. But she had other ideas, and her free arm yanked him hard to her mouth.
Jesus. Their lips and tongues played, sucked, and nibbled. How the hell was he supposed to stay in control of himself if she kept up this shit? He clenched the hem of her shirt with his struggle to restrain himself from ravaging her.
Her leg hooked over his hip and pulled him onto her. While he was distracted by that, his fingers sneaked under her shirt, seemingly on their own. She arched, encouraging his fingertips to slide higher.
His restraint shredded, held in check by the thinnest strand. He couldn’t stop himself from admitting, “I want you so much.”
“Then take me.” Her hips pressed into his, emphasizing her words.
Fuck. A mental twang accompanied the breaking of the last wisp of his composure. Screw it. He’d have to hope she’d speak up if something bothered her.
His hands moved frantically now, nudging up her top. She didn’t resist, her arms rising for him to tug off her T-shirt. And she didn’t protest when he tossed it to the floor behind him.
Her lacy red bra beckoned like a present waiting to be unwrapped. He placed a few kisses onto the rounded tops of her breasts while he unfastened the bra’s clasp.
With that article of clothing out of the way, he paused, drinking in the vision of heaven before him. Her breasts were perfect—that hadn’t just been a line. The ideal size and shape for her, and a deep red tinted her nipples. The sharp contrast of color against her iridescent skin added to their allure.
He traced around the curves, and she shuddered. Her nipples hardened, tightening into delectable peaks.
God, she was so responsive to the smallest touch. He circled closer and closer to his target. When he reached her nipple, she hissed and arched into his palm. He pinched the bud, and she writhed beneath him.
Her hand stroked his cheek, and he looked up. Crap, he probably should have been paying attention to her face more, but he’d been so damn fascinated by her body he couldn’t help it. She didn’t seem upset in the least though, and a luscious smile spread across her mouth.
“Do it, Alex. Taste me.” She pressed on the back of his head.
He didn’t need a second invitation. His lips latched onto her nipple. Unlike last time, he didn’t stick with shallow nibbles and licks. He filled his whole mouth with her softness and sucked.
She gasped, and her fingers tightened in his hair. He let her fullness slip from his hold and gently bit at the hardened nub. At the same time, he pinched and twisted her other nipple.
“Oh god, yes.” Her voice was breathless and shaky, and her body squirmed in encouragement. With her responsiveness, it would be easy to make this great for her.
He shifted slightly to reach her other breast with his mouth, and her hand moved from his hair to his side. While he sucked and bit and pinched, she circled her fingers in the hair trailing down from his navel. The touch sent sparks to his cock, constricted in his jeans.
Her fingertips hooked into his waistband. “Now I’m wondering where else you’re hiding this extra hair.”
He chuckled against her breast. “Why don’t you go exploring?”
She shoved him onto his back, rolling them together, and straddled his hips. “Well, I can see some here...” She brushed along his waistband. “But it seems as though it might go lower, so I’ll have to take a peek to make sure.”
A broad grin stretched his lips, and he rested his head in his palms, restraining himself so she could take the lead for a minute. “By all means, satisfy your curiosity, beautiful.”
Her eyes flashed in response to his words. This was going to be good.