Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
CONNOR
F iona told me what she needs from me last night, and I plan to give it to her. She wouldn’t say my name, wouldn’t say she was mine because she doesn’t trust me. She wants to know the truth. Maybe I deserve that. I did try to influence her by using the information I learned from listening to her thoughts. I should have been honest about that. Which means there’s only one way for me to win her back. With total honesty.
Starting today, no more secrets.
This has to work. My mating sickness is worse. I’m burning up with it. And that appetizer last night was like gasoline on an already-blazing fire. I need her. I need her soon and for real. Which means I need to open up to her. The faster I can break down the barriers between us, the sooner we can be bound together in the way the universe wants us to be, in the only way that will heal me.
While she eats her breakfast. I take Bones out and play fetch. We find a good stick, and I toss it down the trail I cleared this morning when I was up at the crack of dawn, feeling like I could die from the chills and the shakes. I’ve instructed Zaire to invite her to join me when she’s done but not to make it sound like a command. Time together is exactly what we need, but it has to be her choice. Her initiative. She can’t feel manipulated, or I’ll be back at ground zero again.
I’m relieved when she appears at the door in the red Canada Goose parka and Sorel boots I bought for her. Bones lopes over to her with his stick and drops it near her feet, a huge, lolled-tongue smile on his face. She grins and rubs his head enthusiastically, then picks up the stick and throws it for him. My heart clenches at the normalcy of it.
“He’s a good dog,” she says without making eye contact.
“The best. Would you like to take a walk? I want to talk about last night. I owe you an explanation.”
She frowns slightly but gives a nod of agreement. We set off on the trail. Bones picks up his stick and bounds alongside us.
“How’s the writing coming?” I ask, although I know damn well how it’s coming.
“Unbelievable,” she says breathlessly. “It’s like the floodgates have opened and the story is pouring out of me.”
“You’re welcome.”
“For what?”
I glance her way. “Last night you told me you thought you couldn’t trust me. You thought I was manipulating you because I didn’t share the entire truth about hearing your thoughts.”
She nods once. “You were manipulating me. You were in my head?—”
“You’re right. I thought I was justified because you couldn’t handle everything at once, not when you were sick and considering… what you’d been through. But I’m promising you now, no more secrets.”
She narrows her eyes. “You’ll tell me the whole truth?”
I look toward the sky. “It would take me years to tell you everything there is to know about dragons and the Saint’s Order, but I promise you that what I tell you from this day forward will be as truthful and as accurate as possible.”
She studies me, her steps slowing as she considers that, then quickening again. “I want to believe you.”
“Well, then let me start with this. It was me in your dream the other night. I helped you break the chain around Alex’s ankle and work through your writer’s block. That’s why you’re able to write again.”
Her eyes widen, her expression turning livid. “Oh my God. Are you saying you were actually there, participating in my dream?”
I nod. “I won’t do it again without your permission. I did it once to make sure you were telling the truth about Roman and the Order.”
Her cheeks flush red, all the way to the tips of her ears. “And what about this morning?”
I shuffle to a stop, my smile broadening into something truly wicked as I take in her blush and connect the dots. “I was not in your dream this morning, Fiona. I have to be physically near you to dreamwalk, and I was in my own room. Why? Did you dream of me?”
She walks faster and I catch up.
“What exactly was I doing in this dream? Why are you blushing?”
“So you’re saying that when you went into my dream, you fixed my writer’s block?”
I don’t miss how she completely changed the subject, and I inflate at the idea that she had a sex dream about me. Fuck, do I wish I was actually in that one.
“It’s also the dragon energy. It’s why Zaire chose to become my Firetender. Being near me will naturally increase your creative abilities.”
She scoffs. “I know your ego is big, but you can’t possibly be taking credit for the pages I’ve written.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it. I don’t create the art—I simply boost the creative energy inside you.”
The corners of her mouth curl downward.
“That makes you unhappy?”
“I don’t like the idea. I don’t want to be dependent on you. What if the writer’s block returns once I leave here?”
“Then don’t ever leave.”
The glare she shoots me arrows straight through the heart.
I swallow, schooling my features into the most serious expression I can muster. “Most likely the writer’s block won’t come back. Creativity is like a faucet. Once the water is on, it won’t turn off just because you leave me. Something powerful has to turn the handle.”
She lifts her chin. “Good. ”
“I really wish you wouldn’t leave me though.”
“I’m your hostage, remember? You can’t exchange me for information if you don’t hand me over for what you want.”
My dragon stirs and everything feels dark. “I don’t care about the information. The whole fucking world can burn for all I care. I’d burn it down myself to make you mine.”
That seems to unsettle her. She looks away, into the trees as if she can’t handle my intensity.
“Will you go back to him once you’re free?”
“Initially. We have unfinished business.”
“What if you find out he was responsible for Lucy’s murder?”
“Then I’ll leave him and go on with my life.”
Alone she means. I see it then, what I’m really up against.
She studies me for a moment. “I know you say we’re mates, whatever that means, but neither one of us has committed to anything. We don’t truly know each other.”
“I want you to know me,” I say. “I want you to know who I am.”
Bones brings me the stick, and I throw it for him again.
“Why did you name him Bones?” she asks.
Finally. A crack in the door. She actually wants to know something about me, and this one is easy. “My restaurant is in Manhattan— Hell’s Kitchen. We toss our garbage in a dumpster out back at the end of the night. Something kept getting in there. Everyone thought it was rats. Thing is, we compost most of our food scraps, so the only thing food-related going into that dumpster is bones. Anyway, we couldn’t figure out how anything was getting in under the lid and out again. I found this guy one night with his head and front legs in the bin and his hindquarters braced between the fire escape and the edge of the dumpster. His face was so dirty it looked like he was wearing a mask like a burglar, and he was so thin you could see his bones through his skin. When he heard me coming, he pulled his head out, his mouth jammed full of bones. I just started laughing because it’s not like there aren’t other restaurants in Hell’s Kitchen. I’m sure there were more substantial scraps to be had, but he’d rather have bones from my dumpster than spaghetti at Luigi’s. I took it as a compliment.”
She laughs, and it’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard. So beautiful I have to stop because I forget how to walk.
“Anyway, I named him Bones because you are what you eat.”
“I’m glad you took him. There are people out there who would have called animal control.”
Bones lopes up to her and drops the stick again. She picks it up with her gloved hand and tosses it up the trail. We start walking again.
“Believe me, I was tempted. He was so dirty I thought he was a Labrador, and he smelled like three-day-old fish guts. But I said, ‘Get out of there and come over here.’ And I’ll be damned if that dog didn’t obey like he understood every word. Came right to me and sat in front of me. Once I got him cleaned up and on a better diet, he turned into the menace you see before you.”
Her smile fades. “I never had a dog. My twin sister Marion and I were left at an orphanage as babies. They never allowed pets, and once we moved out and into our own places, I was too busy surviving to have one.” She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.
“You’re a twin?”
Bones drops the stick for her, and she throws it again. “Not anymore. She died a little over a year ago.”
“I’m sorry,” I say. Her eyes shutter. Down the bond, I can feel this is a painful memory for her. I don’t push it.
We walk in silence, stopping to watch a doe grazing in a nearby clearing.
“So…,” she starts, seeming to struggle to form the right words. “Dragons have been at war with the Saint’s Order since the time of Saint George?”
I give a deep sigh. “Fifty years ago, a Zodiac Brother sacrificed himself. He traded himself for a peace accord.”
“Traded himself?”
“Allowed himself to be captured and kept prisoner. For humans, being near a dragon sparks their creativity and increases their health, prosperity and longevity. In exchange for him allowing himself to be captured, for the past fifty years, we’ve enjoyed relative peace. That’s why this thing with Lucy Vale is so serious. To be sure, dragons are occasionally slain by Order members, even under the accord, but never publicly like Lucy was. Never so egregiously.”
“Fifty years.” She studies me again. “How old are you? ”
“Thirty-eight. I’m thirty-eight.” I chuckle. “The peace accord happened before I was born.”
“Oh.” She licks her lips, seemingly pleased to hear that. “I thought maybe you were like thousands of years old or something.”
“No. We can be, under certain circumstances, but I’m not.” I wonder if I should explain that the circumstances are an accepted mating bond, but she moves on before I have a chance.
“You mentioned that dragons other than Lucy have been killed since the accord. How is that possible if you’re not at war?”
“Because under the accord, if we trespass on each other’s private property, the rules ... change.” This is a sad conversation, not where I wanted this walk to go. “When my nephew Mason was in elementary school, my sister Carolyn confided in a fellow mom that she was a dragon. She’d known this woman for most of the year, and the woman had reported behaviors in her child that were consistent with being a hybrid. Dragon genes are present in many humans, and if two humans with dormant genes get together, they can have a child who manifests as a dragon. It’s not common, but it’s happened. Anyway, the boy showed many of the signs, or at least it seemed so based on the mother’s concerns, so Carolyn confided in her out of compassion for her son and to prepare the mother in case the boy eventually shifted. The mother seemed grateful. Weeks later, the mother invited Carolyn to her home to work on a project for the school. One thing dragons rarely do is go to a human’s home because the one way the Order can justifiably capture or kill us is if we set foot on their property. But Carolyn trusted this woman, checked the register of Order properties we keep for the address, and decided to go. When the husband came home, she saw his Order ring. That’s when she knew it was a trap.”
“Oh my God! What happened to her?”
“She was captured, and the Order planned to auction her off. These billionaires buy dragons when they come available and imprison them in their office buildings or factories to inspire their workers. And because my sister was mated, she was even more valuable.”
She blows out her cheeks, then releases her breath. “I’m not following. Why would that be?”
I remind myself she knows nothing about my kind. “Mated dragons live exceptionally long lives. Without a mate, we age more quickly and eventually go up in flames around our hundredth birthday. Mating grants both mates prolonged life.” I take a deep breath, remembering that horrific time. “As long as my brother-in-law stayed alive, they’d have a dragon slave in their possession.”
“That’s horrible .”
I nod. “So my brother-in-law was a warrior, a Zodiac Brother like me. He traded himself for my sister. The Order agreed. They couldn’t pass up a chance at weakening the brotherhood. He chose the hunt rather than the auction.”
She swallows. “The hunt?”
“The terms of the accord require the Order give every captured dragon a choice—auction or hunt. Auction means the dragon is sold to the highest bidder for lifelong imprisonment. This is a boon for the winner who gets to exploit the dragons energy. But dragons can also choose the hunt. In that case, they set the dragon free in a magically contained area and hunt them to the death for sport. Normal human weapons can’t kill dragons, but Order rings are enchanted with magic that, in weapon form, can slice through dragon scales like a hot knife through butter. The magic can also be used to make cuffs and chains that bind us and drain our power. Roger died from an enchanted lance through the heart when Mason was just eight years old.”
“Oh my God!” She clutches her chest. “When Roman shot at us, those bolts were made with this same magic, weren’t they?”
I nod slowly.
“Jesus. You took a huge risk taking me the way you did. If one of those bolts had hit you...”
“He could have killed us both.”
“I’m so sorry. That’s sick. It’s twisted. The Order needs to be stopped!”
A dark laugh scrapes up my throat. “I agree, obviously. This is why it’s so important I confirm that Lucy’s death was brought about by the Order and not a rogue member or copycat. If the Order broke the accord, thousands of dragons’ lives could be at stake if they are no longer abiding by the rules. If they’ve broken the accord, we need to take more steps to protect ourselves and our kind.”
“They could slaughter you before you even knew you were at war. Jesus Christ. That doesn’t seem like a very fair peace accord.” She frowns .
“It’s better than outright war. It’s better than being hunted by the Order and every human they can sway against us. Most of us lead normal lives now. We have careers. Human friends. Human mates.” I slant her a knowing look, but her eyes are cast away from me. “The Saint’s Order is powerful. They have more money than any of them could spend in a lifetime and plenty of members in powerful positions. But we have something as well now, a legion of humans we’ve inspired to do things better, faster, more brilliantly. We have the artists, the craftsmen, the engineers. The creator sent us because there’s no replacement for people, for relationships, for love. The Order thinks there is. The Order believes that everything is about money and power, ownership, control. They’re wrong. And as long as we’re here, there will be people who prove it every single day.”
She’s staring at me now, taking me in like she’s seeing me for the first time. Bones chooses that moment to lope back to her with an even larger stick and nudge her hands with his nose. Turning away, she throws it again for him, and he bounds off after it.
“Looks like Bones volunteers to be your stand-in dog until you have your own.”
She tugs at the cuff of her glove. “Who’s running your restaurant while you’re here… guarding me?”
“Guarding. That’s a step up from keeping you prisoner. I think this walk is doing wonders for my reputation.”
She snorts. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
“My manager and sous-chef, Carmen and Ezra, are holding down the place. I usually take some time off this time of year anyway. I like to come here to disconnect.”
She snorts. “Oh? How many women have you kidnapped and told they were your mate?” The edge is back in her voice, her fire rising. She’s smiling, but it’s not a happy smile. She’s wondering if this is a yearly habit.
I shuffle to a stop. I’m sweating and nauseated, using all my energy to hold back my dragon from coming out to play. “Would you believe you’re my first?”
“No.” She turns her fire-filled stare toward me. “No one who looks like you makes it to thirty-eight without finding a mate. I’m sure I’m not the first woman to sleep in that bed.” She cocks her head toward the lodge. “And isn’t it a little convenient that your mate just happens to be the fiancée of your sworn enemy?”
“Believe what you want to believe, but I told you the truth last night. I had no intention of taking you that day. I was there to investigate Lucy’s murder. That’s all.” I look up at the crisp blue sky and decide to lay it all on the table. “The moment I saw you, the world stopped its rotation and the air changed. You were the only thing making it flow in and out of my lungs. You were the center of the universe and the reason for the tides.”
She rolls her eyes and tips her head, but I continue, closing the space between us.
“Deep inside, I already knew that I was yours, your mate. You called to me. You begged for help. You wanted someone to save you from that altar, and I heeded your call, not because I’m some hero who could plainly see you were making a mistake but because I knew, Fiona, from the beginning you were mine. My mate. ”
Her throat bobs on a hard swallow, my reflection looming in her widened pupils. “People sometimes have cold feet,” she says weakly. “I might have thought those things in my head, but I didn’t act on them and I didn’t ask you to act on them.”
I reach behind my head, grab the back of my Henley, and pull it off. “Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart. But one thing I know for sure—I’ve never felt about anyone as I have about you. Never.” I reach for my belt buckle.
“What are you doing?” She eyes my bare chest as tendrils of steam roll off my hot skin.
“No secrets, right?” I unbuckle my belt and unzip my fly. “I take time off this time of year because it’s my alignment. I’m an Aries dragon and the sun is in Aries. When a dragon is in alignment, they suffer from mating sickness. When we don’t have sex and don’t have a mate, we burn with fever.” I toe off my boots.
She’s shaking her head. “If this is some kind of tactic to get a replay of last night?—”
“You keep confusing me with a human man.” We’re at least two miles into the woods, in the clearing where I’ve led her for a purpose.
“Connor—”
“I am no human. You still don’t understand, so I’m going to show you. I’m going to make you understand.” I’m naked now, and the cold feels great against my feverish skin. Show her! my dragon growls.
“Your eyes!” She backs up, her boots landing in the snow. “Wh-what are you doing?”
Bones circles excitedly. He loves when I shift .
I move toward her, my dragon surging, desperate to show the other side of our true self. One more step and the shift overtakes me. My arms extend, my hands transforming into two scaly black paws. In seconds, I’m towering above her. I spread my wings, showing off for her, then tip my head back and breathe fire for her, straight up into the Wyoming sky.
The smell of her fear becomes an acrid stench in my nose. She backs farther away from me. Fuck! Terrifying her was not my intention. I wanted her to know me. I wanted to show her my last big secret.
Fiona needs to see all of me so that she can fully accept our bond, knowing exactly who and what I am. We are fated to be together, our mating written in the stars. But her face has paled, and she’s staggering backward, bracing herself on a tree as if she needs it for balance. I’ve overwhelmed her.
To comfort her, I lower my head to her level, my breath blowing back the hair that extends out the bottom of her hat. I nuzzle her neck with my nose.
She stops, shivers, and gapes at me, unblinking. I lick up the right side of her face.
There. Now we’ve bonded and?—
I curse as she turns and bolts into the woods, not along the path but through the tightly spaced trees. I can’t chase her like this. Not unless I’m willing to do some serious damage to the forest. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I shift back into my human form and pull on my clothes again. Then I look at Bones and gesture with my chin in the direction Fiona’s run.
He takes off .
“Find her, buddy.”
I follow behind, easily chewing up the distance between us. By the time I catch up to her, she’s struggling and exhausted. Her human body has had enough. Bones stops in front of her, wagging his tail. She looks over her shoulder at me.
“Don’t make yourself sick again, Fiona. I only wanted to show you what I am.”
“You’re a monster,” she blurts.
“No. I’m a dragon. One who would never, ever hurt you, in human or dragon form. I’d do anything to keep you safe.” I catch up to her and easily sweep her into my arms. She doesn’t struggle. “You’re my mate. You can accept me and save me or reject me and doom me. But don’t make this less than it is. You feel the bond as much as I do. And now you know exactly what I am.”