Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
CONNOR
I f I learned even one thing from Seb’s visit, it’s that I have exactly three and a half weeks to make Fiona fall in love with me. That’s the length of my alignment and how long I’m in charge, the ultimate authority given that the Oracle is in seclusion. Once Seb takes the reins, nothing can stop him from removing her and sending her back to that bastard, or just moving her home. Nothing but a mating bond. No dragon would ever keep a mated pair apart. The sanctity of a completed mating bond has never been questioned, even with a human. Fiona might not know it yet, but our relationship is metaphysically predetermined. If she allows me in, it will click into place.
I text Zaire a list of things I think Fiona will need now that she’s recovering. I want him and Bones here too, to make it feel more like a home. She needs to feel safe. I want her to be comfortable .
So comfortable she never wants to leave.
Which means the last resistance I had to this bond has been snuffed out. I don’t care if my nemesis put a ring on her finger. She was never truly his. The moment she saw through my camouflage at the wedding and I heard her voice in my head, heard her practically begging me to take her, I knew this bond was meant to be. She’s mine now.
I’m almost done with my text to Zaire when there’s a knock on the door. Morwyn for his promised checkup. As always, his brown hair is as wild as Einstein’s and his tall, ropy body is dressed in blue scrubs and a lab coat.
He folds his wings away as he enters the foyer, the membranous appendages passing smoothly through his lab coat thanks to our dragon magic. “How’s she doing?”
“Better.” I give him a recap, and he disappears into her room.
Seconds turn to minutes, and I pace outside her door again. I can’t stop myself. Fucking Morwyn. Why does he have to be alone with her? Probably touching her. Talking to her. Alone. A growl percolates in my throat, and it takes everything I have to keep my dragon at bay.
Something tight within me loosens when he finally emerges from the room.
“Well?” I bark.
He shoots me a stern look, eyes narrowing. “She’s much improved.”
I release a relieved breath. “So I should continue with the meds and stay near her so that she heals faster?”
Morwyn frowns. “She should only take the pain meds if she needs them. And as for staying close to her, that depends. What do you plan to do about your attachment? You do know if you keep a hostage forever, it defeats the purpose.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I heard your growl, Connor. Your dragon is unusually protective of this woman. Unusually possessive.” He squints at me as if he knows, as if he can see the bond between us.
“Yeah, well, fuck off. I’m taking good care of her. That’s all you need to worry about, Doc.”
“Hmmm.” He removes the stethoscope from his neck and slides it into his black bag. “Try to get her out of bed tomorrow. By then your dragon energy should have her feeling remarkably better.”
“Good.” I accompany him to the door, planning to lock it behind him.
“She’s still frail, Connor,” he warns. “Keep a leash on your dragon. I mean it. She’s human. You could kill her.”
“I’d never hurt her.”
“And your dragon?”
“My dragon is completely under control.”
He reaches out and wipes sweat from my temple. Fuck.
“Clearly.”
Our eyes lock, and the intelligent, knowing gleam in his makes me want to slug him. Instead, I forcibly open the front door.
He spreads his wings and pulls his key out from under his shirt. “I’ll take that as my cue to exit.” He shoots into the air and is gone.
Fiona sleeps most of the day, waking only briefly to eat, drink, and take her pill. But she’s making it to the bathroom on her own. She’s getting better. I’ve never locked her door, but that evening, I make sure to leave it open again so that she knows it’s unlocked. Still, she doesn’t leave her room.
The next morning after breakfast, I decide it’s time to follow Morwyn’s suggestion. “Get up. We’re going for a walk.”
Her eyes widen a little. “I’m not sure I can.”
“If you can walk to the bathroom, you can walk outside. Doctor says fresh air will be good for you.”
She curls her lip. “Doctors don’t know everything. Besides, I have no clothes.”
I toss a set Zaire keeps here on the bed. They’ll be large on her, but they’ll work. He’s a slender man. “I’ll meet you in the foyer in ten minutes.”
Fifteen minutes later, after three tugs on the bond between us, she joins me in the foyer. I wonder if she feels it the way I do, the connection between us. Or maybe to her it just feels like anxiety. I look her over. The shoes are big, but they’ll work for a short walk. Zaire will be here tomorrow with clothes for her.
I pull a coat from the hall closet and wrap it around her, then tug a hat over her shiny auburn hair. I notice the engagement ring on her hand just before I cover it with a mitten. Better that thing stays hidden. I want to drop it into the nearest volcano. “Where are we that I need to get so bundled up this late in March?”
“Someplace cold,” I say, intentionally vague.
“I hate the cold. ”
I flash a wolfish smile. “Stay close to me. I’ll keep you warm.”
“Give me a break,” she mumbles.
I step closer to her and wrap a hand around the side of her head. Our eyes lock and she leans toward me, her lips parting. I don’t even think she knows she’s doing it. “My core temperature is 105 degrees,” I say, my voice all grit. “I run hot, baby. Your own personal furnace.”
She seems to catch herself and knocks my hand away. “Let’s get on with it.”
I open the door and lead her out into the early-spring sunshine. We start walking toward the path that leads into the woods. Wyoming is stunning this time of year, and the air feels crisp and clean in my lungs, the scent of pine trees frosted in light snowfall a lingering perfume in the air.
“You’re not wearing a coat,” she says, seeming to notice my T-shirt for the first time.
“No.” I watch her out of the corner of my eye.
“Don’t you ever get cold?”
I slant a cockeyed grin in her direction. “Never.”
“Never?”
“I run hot, remember?” I waggle an eyebrow at her.
She scowls.
“Dragons are impervious to extreme temperatures. I sometimes feel the heat or the cold, but it doesn’t bother me. I can’t burn in fire or freeze to death.”
“Oh.” She stares at me like she might ask me something more but doesn’t.
“How did you meet Roman?” My voice is abnormally low. I hate saying the bastard’s name, but I tell myself I need to know how close she is to the Saint’s Order. Deep down though, my curiosity serves another purpose. If I can figure out what made her fall in love with him, maybe I can make her fall in love with me.
“At a bookstore. Why? Are you looking for tips to pick up women?”
I snort. “No. I’m trying to figure out how a woman like you ends up with a guy like him, then ends up almost marrying him without knowing a thing about him.”
She shoves her hands into her pockets. “Just lucky I guess.”
I growl.
“Do you have to make that noise? You sound like a bear.”
I laugh. “You should be thanking me. Might keep away the real bears.”
“There are bears here?” Her gaze sweeps over the woods.
“Occasionally.” I fan a wing out to surround her shoulders. “I promise I’ll protect you.”
“I’ll never get used to that,” she mutters with a glance toward my wing. “How does that work, anyway, I mean with your T-shirt?”
“The magic in our wings rearranges the molecules in the cloth. Basically, our clothing parts to accommodate them.”
She stares at my wing for a beat and down our bond I sense her urge to reach out and touch it, but she quickly turns her attention back to the trail and doesn’t.
I frown and tuck the wing away. “So you met Roman at a bookstore. And then what? Love at first sight?” I can’t keep the irritation from my voice.
She looks annoyed as she glances again in my direction. “Why are you so interested?”
I sigh. “I’m just having a hard time believing you know nothing about the Saint’s Order. I’m trying to put it together, that’s all. It would help me to understand… things.”
She scoffs. “You want to know if I’m lying about this because if I am, you can’t trust me.”
I give a single nod.
“Fine. I met Roman in a bookstore. He was buying my newest release. He’d already read all twenty-two of my other books and recognized me right away from my picture on the back cover. After some small talk, he asked me for coffee. We discussed Alex Rogue for hours, and then he asked me if I liked Italian food and if I’d like to go to dinner. I agreed, and he flew me on his private jet to Italy. Over the next three weeks, he filled my apartment with flowers and we went out once or twice a week. Out as in all over the world—London, Munich, Sydney. And then a little over a week ago, he asked me to marry him. We planned everything in six days.” She stops walking and stares absently into the woods. “It’s amazing what money can do.”
“Is that why you married him? The money?”
Her hand snaps out and slaps me across the cheek. It stings a little, but she shakes it like it hurt her a lot more. She even had the foresight to remove her mitten before she did it. I chuckle at the fire I see in her eyes. She’s got pluck, and she’s right, that comment was out of line, even if I sense down the bond that there’s a grain of truth to it. “Uh, sorry,” I mumble. “Seems like a strange reason to marry someone. Just because they read your books and took you to dinner a few times.”
She frowns, still rubbing her hand. “You’d be surprised how few people in my life have actually read all my books. Even my late sister hadn’t.” She slips her mitten back on. “I want to go back. I’m tired.”
I sweep under her knees and swing her into my arms. She yelps in surprise, but I ignore it and carry her toward the house.
“I didn’t ask you to carry me!” she insists.
“No. That’s just a bonus. We are full-service here at Dragon Lodge. Bathroom trips. Meals. Walks in the woods. We do it all for you.”
Her eyes meet mine, and I swear the corner of her lip twitches, but the hint of a smile vanishes as soon as it appears. She wriggles out of my arms the moment we reach the door and stomps back toward her room, slamming the door.
I let her go, but I dig out my e-reader and download her series.