Rover
My alarm clock rings, but I ignore it. Instead, I pull my blanket over my body. Annoyance flickers through me when another hand tugs at the cloth. I open my eyes to half-slits, groaning when I see the hint of another man’s body beside mine. My head feels like it’s about to split into two—probably the result of too much alcohol the night before.
It takes a good deal of alcohol to get werewolves drunk. As a Beta of the Puppyville Pack, it takes a while. I can’t remember the name of the shifter beside me. All I recall is drowning my sorrows in a bar. A wink and a daring grope, and I’m stumbling home with a stranger. Not the first time either, but I need to change my ways. The pack Alpha, Brick, and some of my good friends keep pushing me to find a mate. Just because it’s easy for them, it’s not the same for me.
“Morning, handsome,” the stranger says.
“Get out,” I grumble, but he doesn’t complain. Only grins, then gets out of bed, scooping up his clothes.
“Don’t have to be mean. I’m not looking for anything else than a one-time hook-up, although you can call me anytime,” he says. He doesn’t smell like pack, but he’s definitely a shifter.
One of my New Year’s resolutions is to quit bringing strangers home, and I keep breaking that rule. Typical Rover. A quick peek outside shows me snow continues falling in thick clumps. It’s tempting to stay in bed.
“On second thought, can I borrow your shower?” the twink asks.
“Yeah, just lock the front door when you head out,” I say, when a shadow covers the view from outside. “Shit.”
I toss my sheets aside, and fumble for my pajama bottoms on the ground. “You need to get out now, buddy. Like, right this instant.”
He pouts, still naked, still holding his clothes. “Why?”
How do you explain to a stranger he’s in terrible danger because you have a dragon shifter for a stalker? You don’t. An ear-shattering growl makes the walls of my apartment vibrate. Eyes wide, the twink fearfully wraps his arms around me, as if I can protect him from whatever’s out my window.
I try to shake him off, but he grips my arm tighter. He licks his lips. The glass in my window shatters, blowing cold air inside. The view of the trees and woods outside disappears. Bronze scales replace it. Wings unfurling, Muddy flies a couple of meters away. Twink and I spy his graceful, long serpentine body, his great flapping wings and a tail that ends in a couple of spikes. Black eyes narrow on us.
“Oh baby Jesus, Mary and Joseph,” the twink whispers. “Is that a dragon? Am I dreaming?”
“Hey, you. What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I yell, pitching my voice as loud as I can.
In response, Muddy opens his great jaws, flashing an impressive row of very white sharp teeth. I always wonder how he keeps his teeth all white and shiny. Beside me, the twink lets out a gasp, and then promptly faints. I shake him off successfully, and he slumps to the floor. Better for him, so I can focus all my energies on warding off Muddy.
How did I get a dragon stalker, you ask? It began with Muddy’s brother, the dragon king, claiming a wolf who used to be in the pack. From there, trouble followed. One rejection equated to plenty of hours dodging the persistent shifter, making Rover a dull pup. It’s hard to get myself back in the dating game, with a fucking dragon on my heels.
It’s not that Muddy’s unattractive. Heck, my wolf knows if we pursue this path, our beasts will collide, the heat between us incinerating. I can’t though, because one look at Muddy tells me I’ll hurt him sooner or later.
He’s looking for a long-term commitment. All I want is a hook-up. If eyes are windows to the soul, then Muddy’s eyes tell me everything. Everything the old me hoped to someday find, but past hurts leave my heart brittle. After my old lover Buck left me, I couldn’t do the whole relationship thing again. Muddy’s looking for something I can’t give, so it’s better to maintain my distance.
Times like these though, tempt me to simply show Muddy how I’m not a good match. Growling under my breath, I close my left hand into a fist, and get rid of the sharp shards of glass still on the windowpane. Then I step out onto the ledge, my bare feet touching frozen ice. Christ, this persistent dragon is going to be the death of me.
“Muddy, what the fuck is your problem?” I yell, ignoring how crazy I look, standing on my window ledge, only in my pajama bottoms and a plain white tee, while a dragon the size of a small house stares at me in the face.
One hand on the brick wall, the other I use to point the middle finger at Muddy. Muddy opens his mouth, and I gulp. A ball of flame flies out, literally incinerating the tree within touching distance of my window to cinders. I stare at the burnt wood, swallowing.
First rule all predators know? Never show fear in front of a larger and badder fucker. Still, the thought Muddy can eat me in a couple of gulps lingers in the back of my mind. The last time anything like this happened was Christmas Eve, but my friends and pack members had my back. This time, I’m flying solo.
“Look,” I clear my throat. Heads start poking from the units next to mine, and then they make a hasty retreat, seeing Muddy in his element. I’m hoping one of them has the sense to call the local police, who will phone a member of the pack.
“You want to talk? Let’s do this nice and civil. Shift back to human, and we’ll do a heart-to-heart.” At my words, Muddy considers me. At least he’s no longer throwing a tantrum and burning trees down. I hold out a hand. “Come on, what do you say?”
Muddy flaps his majestic wings, lifting himself higher. I breathe a sigh, but relief is momentary. I turn my back, about to head back in when a cold blast of wind chills my skin. Muddy’s massive shadow falls upon me again, and before I can react, I feel the sharp points of his claws a second later. They dig into my shoulders, the pressure bruising, but Muddy doesn’t draw blood.
Then suddenly, Muddy jerks me upwards, and my feet touches bare air. Panic sets in. I twist and buckle, yell obscenities, as my apartment building seems to shrink. Muddy growls, telling me to keep still I assume, but if he thinks this Beta is going to submit and yield, he has another thing coming. Twisting to free myself, I flail my arms trying to punch something, but Muddy doesn’t feel them.
The claws loosen, and I shriek. With no claws to hold me, I’m freefalling through air. Werewolves might be able to do a lot of things, but we can’t fly.
I scream, feeling Muddy’s claws a second later scooping me. This time, I do learn. I quit struggling, because Muddy made his point. He’s the one in control...as long as we’re up here anyway. The sky’s his dominion, but he can’t keep us airborne for so long. With broad wing strokes, Muddy quickly passes by the town, and enters the woods bordering Puppyville.
“You fucking asshole,” I hiss through my teeth. “Is it fun, playing catch the wolf?”
Muddy doesn’t reply. He takes us further, to the mountains at the edge of the woods. Drakon and he live in those caves, I know. As I understand it, the fae helped them construct their mountain home, and transform it into a contemporary luxury residence. Muddy bypasses the mountains and heads south, towards a smaller bunch of cliffs. Too steep for a human to scale, dangerous even with the proper gear—I can see why he picks the place. He enters a small slit in between the cliffs, cave, and makes a rough landing. I tumble on the dusty ground as he releases me.
I leap to my feet, about to reach for my wolf, when I feel something cold sniffing the line of my back. I jump, whirling, seeing Muddy’s muzzle. Oh shit. Did Muddy bring me here, to this secluded hell, to eat me after realizing he can’t have me?
“Don’t be a fucking coward. Turn back to human,” I taunt.
If Muddy remains in dragon form, I don’t stand a chance. To my shock, he doesn’t. Bones pop, and scales recede. Muddy shrinks until a human stands in front of me. Muddy’s panting slightly. Sweat covers his lean bronze frame, reminding me in human form, I’m twice his mass and bulk—an advantage, except I don’t feel like going on the offensive. His dark eyes pin mine. For a second, I can’t move, can’t even breathe. An emotion, unfamiliar and strange, comes over me.
Despite the wind howling outside the cave, my entire body feels flushed. My gaze takes all of Muddy in. Without the world watching, I can finally take a good look at my stalker. To me, Muddy’s an annoyance, but I never look close enough.
He doesn’t possess his older brother’s sharp deadly beauty, but that’s fine. I admire a fine blade, but I don’t sleep with one. Still, there’s a strange allure to his disheveled, dark brown hair, cut military short, his nose, broken a few times, and the curve of his tempting lips. It’s his eyes that keep me in place though. Dark, unremarkable, yet unfathomable—they hide secrets and pain. Muddy has a runner’s built, all sinew and slimness.
He looks like a lost young man, standing there, not a centuries old immortal...until my gaze drops lower, to his dick, hard and curving towards mine. It makes me aware of my own cock, pressing up against my cotton jammies, demanding attention.
“Lost for words, dragon?” I ask. My body feels strange. Feverish. Not my own. Strange emotions course through me. Gratefulness. Painful longing. Intense and incomprehensible feelings towards a stranger I know nothing about. “What did you do to me?”
“Nothing. What are you so afraid of, Rover?” Muddy asks in that quiet voice of his that galls me.
“I’m afraid of nothing,” I respond recklessly. Muddy’s bad news. Every muscle in my body screams at me to run. To where, I have no clue, but I need to get as far away as possible from this man.
Muddy smiles grimly. “I can smell your fear, wolf.”
“What did you expect? You took me from my home, without my consent.”
“I can’t wait anymore, but I didn’t want it to be this way,” he says, watching me.
“Wait for what? Believe me, baby. Kidnapping me isn’t earning you any points.”
His lips quirk at the nickname, and I’m overcome by the need to step closer, to taste those fucking gorgeous lips. Oh fuck, no. What the hell is happening to me?
Maybe the dragon worked some kind of spell on me, because this isn’t the way a prisoner should react to his captor. Any wolf in his right frame of mind would take advantage of the situation, put his teeth against Muddy’s tempting throat and demand to be taken back, back to reality, where the world makes plenty of sense.
“Look, let’s call it a day. I won’t press charges. My pack is probably looking for me by now and you don’t want that.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because you and your brother worked so hard to establish a relationship between the last of the dragon clan and us,” I say.
A scripted answer, but what else can I do, with my mind not working in Muddy’s presence?
The slight curl of his lips makes me want to cross the distance, to hold him close, keep him captive in my arms so he can do nothing but receive my kiss when I finally take him again.
Wait...again? What the fuck is happening to me?
Muddy watches me, seems to note my every little reaction, hoarding them all to himself. “Some things are worth fighting for, Brandon.”