Chapter 4 Vulcan
FOUR
VULCAN
Electric currents race between us the moment her lips touch mine. Blue-white sparks dance across our joined skin, illuminating the darkness. My dragon nature surges forward. Scales ripple beneath my skin, midnight-blue with silver streaks catching the storm light.
Her taste. Sweet. Intoxicating. Different from anything I've experienced with dragonesses.
The storm responds to our combined power, creating atmospheric chaos neither of us can fully control. Lightning strikes closer. Wind whips harder.
Female. Tempest female. Compatible.
My dragon half stirs, a separate consciousness awakening after decades of forced dormancy.
My hands span her waist, feeling her heat through thin fabric.
The perfect smallness of her against my much larger frame sends protective instincts roaring through my system.
I shift my stance, angling my body to shield her from any potential threat, though none is visible.
My thumbs brush against the exposed skin where her shirt has ridden up.
More electricity arcs at the contact. Her pulse jumps beneath my fingers.
With tremendous effort, I break the kiss. My breathing comes harsh, ragged. Each inhale fills my lungs with her scent—cinnamon, honey, and something uniquely female.
"Not here," I growl.
My voice barely sounds human, vocal cords already shifting toward draconic form. My eyes burn electric blue, casting their own light in the darkness.
"Not like this."
The possessiveness flooding my system terrifies me.
Her hazel eyes, now flecked with electric blue, widen at the rough edge in my voice. But she doesn't pull away. Instead, she leans closer, her own breathing unsteady.
"What's happening to me?" she whispers. "To us?"
The question breaks through the haze of my desire, forcing me to confront the reality of our situation. I face an impossible choice—take her to Emberhold and possibly risk her life, or leave her vulnerable to the Purity hunters who will surely detect her awakening power.
The storm's intensity increases. Lightning strikes another nearby tree, splitting it down the middle. Her firefighter instincts kick in as she scans for spreading flames, but the rain has already doused any potential fire.
My clan would kill her on sight. Humans aren't permitted in dragon territory under penalty of death. Yet the alternative is unthinkable.
Her scent has changed in just these few minutes. Dragon markers emerging in her pheromone signature, becoming more pronounced with each passing moment. The hunters will track her within days.
Protect the female, my dragon half demands. Hide her. Keep her.
"I need to take you somewhere safe," I tell her, forcing my voice toward human registers. "Somewhere others like us can help with your transition."
"Others like us?" She picks up on the exact words I shouldn't have used. Her mind, sharp even in crisis. "You mean there are more... whatever you are? Whatever I'm becoming?"
I nod, scanning the forest around us. We've already lingered too long. The storm has drawn attention—humans investigating the unnatural weather pattern.
"Dragon," I say plainly. "I'm a storm dragon. And you carry dormant storm dragon genes that are awakening."
To her credit, she doesn't laugh. Doesn't call me crazy. She simply absorbs the information, eyes narrowing as she processes. Connecting dots most humans would refuse to see.
"That's not possible," she says finally, but there's no conviction in her voice. Her body knows the truth even if her mind resists.
My skin feels too tight, too human to contain what surges within as I guide her toward my land vehicle. The dragon inside me stretches against its confinement, demanding release. Wanting to take to the skies with its mate.
"We need to move," I manage, each word a struggle as my mouth restructures toward a partial muzzle. "The storm's drawing attention."
Indeed, in the distance, emergency vehicle lights flash—humans investigating the unnatural weather pattern. Her colleagues, perhaps, coming to find their missing captain.
The thought of other males near her sends my body into a protective stance.
I move to position myself between her and the distant lights, one arm curving around her shoulders to guide her in the opposite direction.
My vision sharpens, the world narrowing to just her and potential threats to her safety.
I help her into my custom-built SUV, designed to accommodate my larger-than-human frame. When our fingers touch grabbing for the door handle, electricity arcs between us again, blue-white sparks jumping from her skin to mine.
The jolt sends heat through my system. My control slips momentarily, a growl escaping that's entirely draconic in nature—low, possessive, primal.
Her pupils dilate in response, her breathing quickening. A flush spreads across her cheeks, down her neck. She feels it too—the connection strengthening with each touch.
I circle to the driver's side, muscles locked with the effort of remaining still, of not claiming her immediately. My hands ache to touch her again, my body angling toward hers even as I try to focus on driving.
The drive gives me precious minutes to plan our approach. I steal glances at Phoenix as we drive toward the hidden entrance to Emberhold. Her copper hair glows in the dashboard lights, loose around her shoulders after the storm's wind destroyed her practical ponytail.
I find myself reaching out whenever we navigate sharp turns, one arm extending protectively across her body—an instinctive gesture to shield her from potential impact. Each time our bodies connect, electricity arcs between us, visible in the darkness.
"You have questions," I state rather than ask, knowing her analytical mind must be racing.
As a leader among humans, she's accustomed to understanding her environment, controlling situations. That control has been stripped from her entirely. The fact that she hasn't broken down speaks to her strength.
"Understatement of the century," she replies. "Let's start with what exactly is happening to me."
Her directness pleases me. Most humans would be hysterical, denial overriding curiosity. Her acceptance indicates strong dragon genetics—adaptability in crisis situations.
"Your dormant dragon blood is awakening," I explain, choosing honesty over comfort. "Triggered by our meeting."
I keep my eyes on the winding mountain road, but I feel her studying my profile, taking in the inhuman angles of my face, the too-bright blue of my eyes.
"The electrical manifestations, the heat resistance, the dreams—" I pause as her body's readiness embarrasses her. So she has been dreaming of me, as I have of her. "—all signs of the bond forming between us."
"Bond?" She shifts in her seat, angling toward me. "What the hell is that?"
"A rare connection between storm dragons," I explain, carefully navigating the narrow forest road leading deeper into the mountains. "The clans haven't seen one in generations."
I don't share that such bonds are considered sacred, irreversible, and typically occur only between purebloods. That her human heritage makes our connection taboo among my kind.
"And this bond...explains why I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since the fire?" Her voice drops lower, a hint of vulnerability showing through her tough exterior. "Why I've been having dreams that make no sense?"
"Yes," I confirm, voice rougher than intended. "The bond connects us on multiple levels—physical, mental, energetic. It's already changing your body's chemistry."
"Genes I shouldn't have," she challenges, always the analyst. "How does a human end up with dragon DNA?"
"The simplest explanation? One of your ancestors wasn't human," I reply, turning onto an unmarked dirt road. "Storm dragons have interacted with humans for millennia, though rarely. Occasionally, those interactions led to offspring."
She falls silent, processing this information. I can practically hear her mind working through the implications, reassessing her entire life history through this new lens.
"I was adopted," she finally says, voice quiet. "Never knew my biological parents."
The admission explains much. Her dragon heritage would have made her different from ordinary human children—more resilient, resistant to environmental extremes, drawn to storms.
"That's common among hybrids," I tell her. "Many can't be raised by their birth parents. It's too dangerous for all involved."
As we near the mountain range housing Emberhold, my senses heighten, scanning for threats. The Purity Force’s technology must be improving. I can smell their chemical signatures on the night air—artificial compounds designed to mask human scent from supernatural detection.
I pull the SUV off the road, concealing it beneath a natural overhang reinforced with dragon magic.
"We walk from here," I explain, killing the engine. "The entrance isn't accessible by vehicle."
Phoenix nods, shifting into the mindset that's served her well as a firefighter captain. She scans our surroundings, noting escape routes, potential cover, environmental hazards. Her natural leadership abilities remain intact despite the chaos of her transformation.
"Stay close," I instruct as we leave the vehicle. "The entrance is warded against humans."
"But I'm not fully human," Phoenix points out with characteristic perception. Her analytical mind connects facts quickly, adapting to impossible revelations with remarkable resilience. "You said I'm part dragon."
"Exactly," I confirm, pleased by her understanding. "The wards will recognize your dragon blood, but the transition may be... uncomfortable."
Without warning, I pull her against my chest, one arm around her waist, the other cradling the back of her head. Her body fits perfectly against my larger frame, soft curves meeting hard muscle.