Chapter Four

 

 

 

Tristan couldn’t get Melanie to move fast enough. He wanted to drop her off and get a small reprieve from her incessant questions, and her oddly addicting scent.

Carrying her on his shoulder had been a mistake. The instant her full, plump breasts had pressed against his back, his cock had gone hard. Sliding her down his body had only made him harder.

If that wasn’t enough, her scent told him she was nearly at the fertile time of the month, and his inner dragon had screamed at him to throw her on the ground and fuck her. Even now, with Melanie at his side, his dragon was impatient, not understanding why he would give another male the chance to get her with child ahead of him.

Tristan might’ve grown up the late twentieth and early twenty-first century, but his dragon functioned on instinct alone. Hunt, fly, fuck, eat. That’s what his beast understood.

While every dragon-shifter learned from an early age how to control their dragons, spending two days with a female who was both fertile and who had caught the eye of his dragon would be the ultimate test of self-control. That was why he’d tried to convince Bram in Mersae, the dragon-shifter language, to let someone else show her around Stonefire’s land tomorrow. However, Bram had been firm and told him to get his dragon under control. If Tristan couldn’t manage to do that, then he wasn’t worthy of a female to birth his children.

An hour ago, he would’ve been happy to give the human sacrifice to someone else. But after feeling Melanie’s soft body pressed up against his, the thought of another male taking her made his dragon roar inside his head. When Bram had taken her hand, he’d barely resisted throwing his friend across the room.

The whole situation was fucked up. Bram was his oldest friend and clan leader, but his dragon didn’t seem to care. It wanted Melanie. Period. Unless he wanted to unleash an angry, snarling dragon on his clan—losing control of his dragon would get him kicked out or worse—passing her off to another male wasn’t an option.

His dragon pushed his way forward in his mind. Female. Ours. Take her. Bond her. Now.

He wrestled the beast back and was barely in control again when Melanie’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Are you going to tell me about tonight’s event?”

He glanced over at her. The sound of her voice calmed his dragon. For once, he was grateful for the distraction of her questions. “What’s there to tell? People will get together, eat, drink, and dance.”

“Is that why you don’t like big get-togethers? Because you have to dance?”

“No.”

She tugged on her elbow but Tristan didn’t release his grip. “Well?”

They were almost to her new dwelling, and he decided talking would keep the human part of him front and center. “I don’t like contained, crowded places. I’m part dragon, and I much prefer the freedom of the skies.”

“But what about airplanes? Or air pollution? I’d imagine flying isn’t as grand as it might’ve once been.”

Keep her talking. I want to hear her voice, his dragon told him. Since they were nearly to the cottage, he decided to listen to his beast. “Even with those things, there’s nothing like using the power of your wings to soar over an ocean, or a mountain, or a forest. Humans must rely on airplanes, cars, and boats to get them from one place to the other, but as a dragon, I can fly anywhere. My wings are my independence.”

He didn’t spoil his little speech by saying he could fly almost anywhere. Certain cities had dragonflight bans, and in some rural areas, dragon hunters waited for their prey; harvesting and selling dragon’s blood on the black market was becoming a big problem.

Thankfully, they arrived at the small stone cottage sitting a little away from the rest and he wouldn’t have to keep talking to her. He nodded his head toward the thatched cottage and said, “This is to be your home while you’re here.” He could hear the females inside. “The human females will answer your questions and bring you to the ceremony.”

She frowned. “And what about you?”

Using the trick of talking to forget about his dragon’s instinct seemed to have backfired. He’d been too nice, and Melanie seemed to have gotten her hopes up about him caring about her. It was time to fix that. “I’m going for a quick flight to rid the stench of human from my nose.”

He saw the hurt flash in her eyes, but he resisted apologizing. He couldn’t let her like him, or his dragon’s need might overwhelm his own self-control. “Until tonight.”

He turned and left her standing in the dirt. His dragon growled in irritation at the change of Melanie’s scent from one of a soft, warm woman to a hurt, lonely one.

Well, fuck you, dragon. Just because his beast had forgotten that humans had torn apart his family didn’t mean Tristan-the-man had.

He picked up his pace and headed toward the clearing where he could shift and take off. He hoped the flight would clear his head and allow him to get a handle on his dragon again, or the next two days were going to be pure hell. No female had ever affected his beast to this degree before, and that scared him a little.

 

~~~

 

Melanie watched Tristan walk away and tried not to cry. She’d thought they’d made some progress when he’d told her about not liking confined spaces, or about the freedom of flight. But then he’d gone and said she stank.

Even if her body was attracted to him—and it was—she wasn’t sure her heart could take having sex with him, especially if all he’d do afterward was tear her down again.

Not now, Hall. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She’d only been on Stonefire land for a little over an hour and it was too soon to start guessing her future.

Opening her eyes, she eyed the cottage door and decided the best thing was to see what the other human women said about their time here. Their experience would be more valuable to her than crying or wondering what if.

Unsure of what she should do, Melanie knocked. A faint “Come in” answered and she opened the door and entered the cottage.

Inside were two women. The one with curly red hair and blue eyes was about Mel’s age and very much pregnant. The other one was a little older with long, black hair and dark, golden skin. The woman with the dark hair smiled and said, “I’m Samira.” She gestured at the redhead. “And this is Caitriona. Welcome to Stonefire.”

Mel forced a smile. “I’m Melanie Hall.”

She took a step toward the women when a little boy who looked to be about three years old peeked out from behind Samira’s skirts. Samira looked down at the boy with love and placed a hand on his head. “And this is my son, Rhys.”

As Samira coaxed her son out and picked him up, Mel looked over at Caitriona. But the woman wasn’t smiling. If anything, she looked to be a walking zombie. Mel decided Samira would be her best bet for information. She said, “While it’s nice to meet you all, I’m hoping you can help me understand what it is I’m supposed to do tonight. What’s a welcoming ceremony?”

Samira jostled her son on her hip. “We have enough time to chat over some tea.” She looked at Caitriona. “Cait, can you make us some tea and bring out some biscuits?”

Cait nodded and headed for the small kitchen on the far side of the room. Samira nodded to the couches and chairs. “Let’s sit down.”

Mel looked over at Cait. “Shouldn’t she sit down? She looks quite pregnant.”

Samira walked over and whispered, “She’s only six months along. Besides, she likes to keep busy. It helps her to forget her troubles.”

Mel wanted to ask more, but when Samira pushed against her shoulder with her own, she took the hint. Once they sat down, Mel on the chair and Samira on the couch opposite with her son on her lap, Samira said, “I’ll tell you about the welcoming ceremony in a minute. First, what did you think of Tristan?”

Unsure of Samira’s loyalties, she decided to keep her answer diplomatic. “I just met him.”

Samira clicked her tongue. “Come, now. He’s a broody bastard when it comes to humans. You can say so, and it won’t go outside this room. Trust me, being a human amongst the dragon-shifters can be a trial sometimes.”

Mel studied the smiling woman holding her son tight in her arms and decided to trust her a little. “That’s an understatement.” She paused, but before she could stop herself, she said, “I think Tristan hates me.”

“It doesn’t surprise me.”

Mel’s temper was about to show again. After all, the woman knew nothing about her. But Samira continued before she could say a word. “It has nothing to do with you, my dear. You seem lovely. But Tristan’s mother was killed by humans, and he’s never gotten over it.”

She blinked. She’d heard tales of dragon hunters, but like most humans, she’d thought that the British government had gotten the illegal poachers under control.

Knowing what had happened to Tristan’s mother put an entirely new perspective on things. “But why are you telling me this? I assume his mother’s death is a very personal thing, and something he doesn’t want strangers to know.”

Samira shrugged. “Everyone in the clan knows about it. There’s no reason to hide it, especially as Tristan would never mention it to a human, even if you tortured him for a decade.”

Wow. To say Tristan had issues was putting it mildly.

Cait came in with a tray and she placed it on the small table between the couch and chairs. The timid woman poured a cup of tea, picked up a cookie, and sat in the chair farthest off to the side. As she nibbled on the cookie, Mel couldn’t help but notice her vacant expression and defeated posture. Quite simply, it looked like Cait had given up any chance at happiness.

Before Mel could think better of it, she said, “Cait, what’s the matter?”

At first, Mel thought the woman would ignore her. But finally, the redhead spoke, her voice not more than a whisper, “I want to go home.”

Cait let out a sob, and Mel went to the woman’s side and put her arms around her. When Cait’s sobs didn’t let up, she glanced over to Samira, who was bouncing her son on her lap to distract the boy from Cait’s breakdown.

She focused back on Cait, stroking her hair and making soft noises. Eventually, the woman stopped crying. As Cait wiped her eyes with her hands, Mel forced herself to ask, “Tell me, Cait. Why do you want to go home? Is it really so bad here?”

Cait’s eyes went to where Samira was entertaining her son. She looked back to Mel’s face and said, “What Samira has is rare. Her dragonman loves her, loves their son, and he would die to protect them. Mine left six months ago, as soon as I was pregnant, and no one’s heard of him since.” She placed a hand on her belly. “He didn’t want a child, but all of the men take at least one turn. I was terrified of him in the beginning, which didn’t help matters. But he didn’t want me, and he doesn’t want our child. I’m tired of the looks of pity and people tiptoeing around me. Everyone here talks, as you’ll soon find out, and I just want to go back to being normal.”

“What about your baby?”

Cait held her stomach with both hands. “This baby was a way to pay off the debt my ex-husband left me with, nothing more. As soon as it’s born, I’m leaving.”

Samira’s voice interrupted them. “That’s enough for now. If we don’t get Melanie ready for the welcoming ceremony, we’ll have to hear from Bram. Clean yourself up, Cait. Melanie, come with me.”

Samira stood up and went into one of the side rooms. Mel gave Cait one last hug before she followed. Once she was in the room, Samira leaned down to her ear and whispered, “Cait’s dragonman was banished for cheating on his sacrifice, yes; but don’t let her words poison you. That dragonman had always been a problem. Bram thought he could make him behave, but he was wrong. Don’t worry, Tristan is different.”

“How, exactly? He wants nothing to do with me.”

Samira leaned back enough to meet her eye. “Ask him to take you to his job tomorrow. Then you’ll see.”

Mel opened her mouth, but Samira turned around and set her son down on the large bed in the room. She went to the side closet, pulled something out, and turned around with an armful of a shimmery light green material. “Right. Let’s get started.”