Chapter Eight
Bewildered, Phoenix stood in the middle of his bedroom. “Katarina, wait!”
He fought the transmutation her rejection had evoked in him. He hadn’t meant to start the shift, but the fury born from frustration and crushed hopes burned deep, a pain so acute it fed the flames within. His breaths ragged, black smoke blew from his mouth, his nose. His dragon wanted out.
The front door slammed shut.
She’s gone…
His fun-loving dragon girl was gone, and there was nothing he could do about it.
Every bone in his body ached to follow her, to take her in his arms and tell her everything would be all right, but the fear in her eyes broke his heart.
Her dragon eyes.
God, how he’d missed gazing at those captivating emerald eyes of hers, but she’d fought her inner dragon. He’d witnessed the sheer terror on her face.
Then she’d leapt off the bed and called him a freak. A goddamn freak.
He breathed slowly in and out and controlled the shift. The last thing he needed was to go full-on dragon in his tiny bedroom and break the bloody roof—thatched roof repairs cost a fortune these days.
Nix glanced down at his hand, watching her ice melt, then sizzle on his palm. He hadn’t meant to hold her so… so desperately, but he thought she knew what she was. He thought she remembered the life they’d shared.
He’d missed their lovemaking too. Not for one moment had he imagined this evening would end with the most incredible, soul-consuming sex he’d had in centuries, but then, it had always been like that between them.
Everything she’d said, everything she’d done, all suggested she knew him. The scent of magic that percolated in the air the moment he saw her in the pub, her sense of déjà vu, her recognition when he’d shown her the old photo in his lounge; he assumed she knew of her dragon nature. Nix recalled her words before he’d carried her upstairs. We know each other. You’re like me.
So why had she feared him when he’d gazed at her through his dragon eyes? It was their thing, showing each other their dragon eyes just before they climaxed. It used to turn her on no end, and him too—why had it terrified her so much she had to scramble off him, leaving him high and dry?
Not that he was in the mood now.
He’d ruined everything.
He shouldn’t have forced it; he shouldn’t have shown her the photo of them in the 1920s. His wishful thinking back then had got him nowhere, and now that same thinking, embedded with false hope, had lost him the best chance he’d ever had to break the sorceress’s curse.
Kat, she called herself in this life. She wasn’t his Katarina. This Kat was a beautiful woman looking for some fun, and there was nothing wrong with that, but beneath the surface, she feared the truth. She was not ready to accept her dragon.
He glanced around his bedroom, noting her jeans and top still on the floor, and a shoe too.
A bittersweet smile tugged at the corner of his mouth—she’d bolted from their cottage so fast she’d forgotten her clothes. Fond memories warmed his heart, of how they would soar through the sky, their wingtips close, before shifting back to their human form to run naked through the woods, giggling like a couple of schoolchildren.
Phoenix drew in a sharp breath. What the hell was he thinking? He had to find her. Kat, Katarina, whoever she was in this life, the fact remained—he still loved her.
His heart went out to her when he’d watched her fight the changes and deny the truth. Katarina clearly didn’t know her true identity or how powerful she could be.
He’d let her leave, and now she was alone in the woods, at night, without clothes, except for her lacy knickers. She’d probably got herself lost, like the day her dog Toby had runoff. Once she accepted her dragon nature, she’d have an impeccable sense of direction, of course, but right now, she wasn’t ready.
What if, fuelled by her fear, she wasn’t able to control the transmutation? What if she’d shifted into her dragon? She’d called him a freak—he could only imagine how terrifying it would be to her. What if she hurt herself or someone else?
His stomach cinched. No matter what had happened between them or what she thought of him, he couldn’t leave her to face the truth alone.
Nix ran down the stairs to his front door, readying his dragon.
A blast of cool air filled his lungs as he flung the door open. Once outside, he transformed into his dragon and took to the skies in search of his soulmate.
He soared through the night air, using his enhanced vision to comb the landscape beneath him. Nix circled the woods that surrounded his cottage. No sign of her, but he hadn’t expected her to be near the cottage by the way she’d shot out of there faster than an Olympian athlete. Flapping his powerful wings, he followed the path that led to his pub and circled overhead.
Since it was past midnight now, his manager, Adam, had closed the pub, and everyone had presumably gone home to their beds, including the dickhead Katarina had punched.
Nix focused. Where was she?
Maybe she hadn’t resisted the change and had morphed into her dragon after all.
With a downward thrust, he flew higher and searched the skies instead.
He looked for hours, covered acres of terrain and sky. He flew over the town, its dim, orange lights glowing below. Hidden from sight by the magic veil, he combed street after street looking for her, but it was as though she’d disappeared off the face of the earth.
His wings grew heavy and tired. He was a fool to think he could find her. He’d let her run from what used to be their home, and he hadn’t stopped her. Hell, he didn’t even know where she lived.
The familiar, soul-crushing despair returned full force, dragging him into an abyss blacker and deeper than anything he’d known before, and this time he hadn’t the strength to haul himself out.
Nix’s wings weakened more, and he dropped a good twenty feet.
He had to face it.
He’d lost his beautiful, fun-loving soulmate.
How long could he keep doing this to himself? The sorceress’s curse had proved too powerful yet again. What was the point in pining for Katarina any longer? He had to let her get on with this life where she called herself Kat, to live it out until her next reincarnation, and then maybe they would find each other again…
Phoenix shook his head. No! Not this time. He would not allow that flicker of hope to take hold again. He had his life to live too.
It was better to forget her forever.
The early morning sun peeked over the town buildings as Nix headed home, his heart as heavy as his wings.
Finally, he landed back at his cottage. Even the sight of his home, bathed in bright yellow sunlight, the place where he usually found peace, did nothing to lift his soul.
With a heavy sigh, he went inside.
He tried not to allow it, but his gaze flitted to the picture on the wall. In silence, he took it off its hook and carried it upstairs, picking up Katarina’s stray shoe on the tread as he went. He ground his teeth, refusing to think of how it got there.
He placed the picture face down on the bed in his bedroom, then gathered her jeans and top from the floor and her other shoe, and folded her clothes neatly on top of the picture. The desire to hold them close and breathe in her scent one last time overwhelmed him, but he didn’t succumb.
Phoenix put everything that would remind him of Katarina into a bottom drawer. Out of sight and out of mind.
His doorbell rang. Nix swore. He was still naked, for goodness sake. After grabbing his robe from the back of the door, he traipsed downstairs.
Egan stood at the door, holding up a carton of milk and grinning like a buffoon. “Morning, brother! I brought you some milk. Stick the kettle on. I’m parched.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Unless you have company, of course.”
Nix rolled his eyes at his brother’s blatantly obvious reason for paying him a visit. “Hello, Egan. Thanks for the milk.” He grabbed the carton even though he had several in the fridge already. Turning, he then walked back inside.
“Wait, can I come in, or what?”
Nix shrugged. “Do what you like—you usually do.”
Egan closed the door behind him. He didn’t say a word as he followed Nix to the kitchen.
Nix switched on the kettle, waiting impatiently for what he knew was about to come. Best get the brotherly interrogation done, then it would finally be over.
His brother didn’t fail. “So, how did it go last night?”
He fetched two cups from the cupboard. “It didn’t. End of.”