13. Maple
THIRTEEN
MAPLE
The sound of Zarik's SUV fading into the distance left an echoing silence that seemed to magnify every breath, every heartbeat, every unspoken word hanging between her and Rune.
Maple stood in the grand foyer, watching through the tall windows as the vehicle disappeared around a bend in the canyon road, carrying Ben back to his city life.
Worry gnawed at her chest like a persistent ache.
Ben was willingly walking into danger, following Serena through a city where rogue dragons apparently conducted business in broad daylight.
Yes, Zarik and Caius would protect him, but the memory of that exploding SUV on the canyon road remained vivid—twisted metal, flames, and the acrid smell of smoke and death.
But beneath the immediate anxiety, something else pulsed through her veins like liquid sunlight.
The memory of soaring through endless blue sky today, wind rushing past her face as Rune's powerful dragon form carried her above the world.
For those precious moments, she had felt utterly free—not just from gravity, but from every doubt, every fear, every carefully constructed wall she'd built around her heart.
This is what I've been searching for my entire life, she realized.
Not just dragons, not just proof that magic existed, but this—of belonging somewhere impossible and beautiful. Of being seen by someone who didn't ask her to become smaller or more reasonable or less curious about the mysteries that called to her soul.
The mate bond hummed, a constant low frequency that made her hyperaware of Rune's presence across the room. She could feel his internal battle like an echo of her own pulse—want warring with resistance, need fighting against some deep-seated terror she didn't understand.
"Can we talk more about the mate bond now?" she asked, turning to face him fully. Her voice held steady determination despite the chaos of emotions swirling within her. "I need to understand what's happening between us."
Rune's jaw tightened, his blue eyes flickering with that molten gold. "Not right now. Let's focus on figuring out this connection between Serena and Elias."
Frustration flared hot in her chest. Another deflection, another wall thrown up between them just when she thought they might be making progress.
She'd felt his surrender during their flight together, sensed his wonder and contentment through the bond they shared.
But the moment they landed, the moment he shifted back to human form, those barriers had slammed back into place with military precision.
"I understand the danger right now," she said, crossing her arms. "But I also understand that you're terrified of whatever is building between us, and I want to know why."
His broad shoulders tensed beneath the black henley that clung to his powerful frame. For a heartbeat, she thought he might actually answer her—might explain why he claimed her like she was everything he'd ever wanted but pulled away like her touch burned him.
Instead, he ran a hand through his dark hair and moved toward the corridor leading deeper into the mansion. "After we get more information about this threat, we'll talk about us."
Will we?
The question burned on her tongue, but she swallowed it back.
She'd pushed hard enough for now. And truthfully, part of her feared what answers might emerge from that conversation.
What if his reluctance stemmed from disappointment?
What if he'd expected his fated mate to be someone more...
worthy? A powerful dragon shifter with centuries of experience and bloodlines that mattered, not a human archaeologist who'd stumbled into his world by accident.
The insecurity twisted sharp in her chest, but she forced her voice to remain level. "Fine. Let's go to your office—I assume you have one here—and see what Serena and Elias are really up to."
Relief flickered across his features so briefly she almost missed it. "This way."
She followed him past the main living area, down corridors lined with artifacts that whispered of dragon history spanning millennia.
The mansion felt like a living museum, every artifact carefully preserved, every surface polished to perfection.
Beautiful and lonely, just like the man who ruled over it all.
When Rune stopped before a heavy oak door and turned the handle, and the door opened to his home office, Maple understood him immediately.
The office reflected its owner with startling clarity—ancient power adapted to modern necessity.
Leather-bound books filled floor-to-ceiling shelves, their spines bearing titles in languages she recognized and several she didn't. A massive desk dominated the center of the room, its dark wood scarred with the patina of centuries, while state-of-the-art computer equipment sat incongruously among artifacts that predated written history.
Centuries of solitude, she realized, taking in the single chair, the absence of any personal photographs, the careful arrangement that spoke of a man who never expected visitors. How has he survived this isolation?
Rune settled into the leather chair behind his desk and powered up the computer, his fingers moving across the keyboard with efficiency. "Let's see what we can find about our museum curator."
Maple moved to stand beside him, close enough that his heat seemed to wrap around her like a tangible thing. She felt his muscles tense at her proximity, and heard his breath catch when she leaned forward to peer at the screen.
The silk blouse she'd chosen from his thoughtful selection of clothes shifted with the movement, revealing a glimpse of cleavage that drew his gaze like a magnet.
His grip on the computer mouse tightened until his knuckles went white, and he deliberately turned his head away as if looking at her was physically painful.
Sexual tension crackled between them with enough intensity to light the room.
Every shared breath felt charged and every accidental brush of skin sent heat spiraling through her core.
The mate bond pulled at her constantly now, whispering that he was right there, that she could simply reach out and touch him, could slide her fingers through his dark hair and remind him how perfectly they'd fit together.
But she forced herself to focus on the screen as information about Dr. Elias Vorn populated the browser. On the surface, everything appeared legitimate—prestigious university appointments, published research, glowing recommendations from respected institutions.
"Try searching the dragon forum," she suggested, her voice slightly breathless from his nearness. "And those fringe websites where I first heard dragon rumors."
Rune's typing became more aggressive as they dove deeper into the internet's shadowy corners.
Within minutes, a different picture began to emerge.
Elias Vorn's name appeared in connection with private collectors, black market dealers, and archaeological sites where artifacts had mysteriously vanished.
"I don't like where this is heading," Maple murmured, watching the evidence accumulate on screen.
Serena's name appeared with increasing frequency alongside Elias's, their partnership extending far beyond today's restaurant meeting.
Financial records, shipping manifests, correspondence with buyers who preferred anonymity—all of it painted a picture of systematic artifact trafficking disguised as legitimate research.
Rune opened another database, this one clearly connected to dragon clan records rather than human institutions. His fingers flew across the keys as he searched through centuries of lineage and territorial disputes.
"Here," he said grimly. "Elias Vorn. Exiled from the Shadowmere clan a hundred years ago for attempting to seize control through force."
The photograph that accompanied the record showed the same man they'd observed meeting Serena, but his eyes held a coldness that chilled Maple's blood. This wasn't someone who'd stumbled into criminal activity—this was a predator who'd made it his life's work.
"So he's been building power systematically," Maple said, her analytical mind piecing together the pattern. "Using human institutions as cover while targeting dragon territories and hoards."
"And succeeding," Rune added darkly, scrolling through a list of acquisitions that spoke of wealth and influence no exiled dragon should possess. "He's absorbed at least three smaller clans in the past decade alone."
The scope of Elias's operation became clear as they continued their research. He hadn't just been collecting artifacts—he'd been systematically dismantling the hidden dragon world, one territory at a time.
"Why were Serena and Elias tracking me specifically?" Maple asked, though dread was already forming in her stomach.
Rune's jaw clenched. "Well, if this is any indication, I think you were a very valuable target to them. Look at this."
The screen showed a timeline of her archaeological activities over the past five years—every dig, every publication, every forum post she'd made about dragon mythology. Heat flooded her cheeks. Her obsession had grown more intense over the past few years.
"They knew that eventually you would stumble upon something they wanted," Rune said, his tone carrying a dangerous edge.
"What do they want?" she asked, though part of her already suspected the answer.
His blue eyes met hers, molten gold flickering in their depths. "They want me. My hoard, my territory, my clan. I've been untouchable for centuries—until now."
"Why are you touchable now?"
The silence stretched between them, heavy with implications she didn't want to face. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely a whisper.
"Because of you."