Chapter 2
Driving with one hand on the wheel and the other holding a sleeping kitten wasn’t necessarily a challenge for Arkyn. It just wasn’t how he’d expected his day to start. That, and his run-in with the strange, flighty, yet beautiful Ama.
His neck still hurt from all the sudden redirects in their brief conversation.
“Hey, Ulrik. Is the cat distribution system a real thing?” He sent the question through the mental communication abilities he and his family had. As dragon shifters, they had many advantages humans did not. The ability to communicate mentally, for one. Viking good looks and potent dragon pheromones, for another. The latter being a heady combination which ensured he and his brothers were never at a loss for bed partners.
Unfortunately, his brothers had all found love. Their days of singlehood at and end, so were their days of weekend debauchery. Which meant Arkyn’s Saturday night trolling for hookups had become decidedly more solitary. More desperate. And more disappointing.
Case in point: last night’s tryst with… um… whatshername. The one who’d apparently covered him in her perfume like an animal marks its territory.
All his years as the firstborn, the alpha-heir to his small dragon clan, had not prepared him for this bizarre solitary existence. His family—including the fiancées, who were all amazing individuals, proper shield maidens his brothers were lucky to have found—gathered as frequently as ever. Yet Arkyn was now the odd man out. The ninth wheel, so to speak. He was the one who went home alone at the end of the evening. Or the next morning.
He”d trained for battle and to run his family’s logging company, but not for this pathetic aloneness.
Before he could bury himself further in self-pity, Ulrik’s chuckle sounded in his head. “You better believe the cat distribution system is legit. Did it select you?”
“You betcha. I now have what apparently is a spawn of Satan.”
As if summoned, said spawn stretched in his hand and stepped out to drop to his lap, settling at the vee where his thighs met his balls. Warmed from his body heat, the kitten was still damp. That dampness seeped into his jeans.
Great, now he looked like he’d pissed himself.
“Ooooh, you have a Tortie! Good luck with that one.” Ulrik was clearly entertained by Arkyn’s luck.
“You’re the one who volunteers at the shelter.” Was that a whine in his voice? “Why have you never been selected?”
“You’re the firstborn. The universe obviously loves you the most.”
Ulrik’s dismissive explanation struck a nerve. He’d long-harbored the assumption he was somehow less important for being born second. As if it was Arkyn’s fault he was the oldest. Yes, birth order, and his power as an Earth Dragon, played a part in his being slated to take over the clan after their father stepped down. But otherwise, his firstborn status meant very little. It hadn’t helped him defeat Níeh?ggr, the prophesized world destroyer they’d battled; that title went to Ty and Lin. It didn’t help him manage the family’s logging business.
And certainly didn’t help him find a woman to love.
He mentally waved his brother away. Arkyn needed advice on what items to get for the care and feeding of the tiny feline, but he’d be damned if he asked Ulrik. Not because he was feeling petty toward his brother. It was simply an excellent excuse to call Ama. She’d shouted her number at him as she’d driven away, and there was a distinct possibility it had been solely to ensure the livelihood of the kitten and not due to any attraction to him.
Pffft. Chances were slim she wasn’t attracted. Most women were, and that wasn’t bragging. Young, old, married, lesbian… it didn’t matter. Human women—and most men—gravitated toward the strength and power that existed deep within a dragon shifter. Ulrik’s fiancée, Eydís, had called it Big Dick Energy. Arkyn simply considered it his dragon charisma.
Regardless of the explanation, chances were good that Ama would be responsive to his call for advice.
“Let’s get you some supplies, little girl. I’m sorely lacking anything to keep a kitten alive, much less comfortable.” He spoke to the little ball of moist fur as if she could understand him. Maybe she could. She trilled and settled more comfortable in his crotch, her sharp claws digging into his skin through his jeans as she stretched.
Arkyn grunted as her murder mittens made biscuits against the soft skin of his inner thighs, and turned the wheel to head toward the only store that would be open this early on a Sunday morning. He parked, then transferred the little kitten from his crotch to the pocket of his flannel shirt. He’d have less protection if she wanted to stab him with her claws, but he’d be better able to shop hands-free with her tucked securely.
She yawned, then resumed her light nap, the vibrations from her purrs spread through his chest.
His dragon responded with a low rumble of his own, and it stayed Arkyn’s hand on the truck door handle.
Distant memories rose. He and his younger brothers as infants and toddlers, held in the arms of Mother and Father for comfort. Surrounded by a gentle vibration that soothed and consoled. An echoing reverberation within him. His own dragon deep inside responding to the call of his parents’ dragons, each learning one another’s voice. Like imprinting. Or whales learning the individual sounds of their pod members.
While his clan was also his family, their dragons were ancient beasts. If there were any familial connections between them, those were long forgotten. Only his youngest brother, Ty, and his fiancée Lin had dragons who remember being former lovers. So, for Arkyn, those childhood moments of rumbling comfort had calmed him and made him feel safe and loved. But for his dragon, it had likely been little more than a welcome to the club.
Like his dragon currently did with the little kitten. The little kitten who didn’t seem at all disturbed by the fact he purred back at her. Of course, she’d already dashed out in front of a metal creature a thousand times her size. The soft buzzing from his dragon hardly held the same level of stimulation.
Arkyn locked the truck door and headed inside. The store was relatively quiet and empty, or he might have missed the colorful neon splotched leggings bent over the sushi kiosk. He’d recognize those pants anywhere, and took a moment to appreciate the long legs and pert derriere encased in them.
After several moments, he cleared his throat. Staring at her ass was a little creepy. “Ama? What are you doing here?”
She jerked upright, a plastic container of pre-made sushi in each hand. Her smile lit her face and she laughed. “Looking for socks.”
He nodded toward her hands. “You might be in the wrong aisle.”
“I was hungry. It was either this or gummy bears.” She shoved a package of sushi at him, much like he’d shoved the kitten toward her earlier. “Care for some spicy crunch rolls?”
A glance proved she held California rolls and shrimp tempura rolls. Both of which looked a few days past fresh. “How about you help me get cat suppIies, and I take you for some real sushi?”
“Your Highness!” She squealed and grabbed for him. Before he could react to her pawing, she pulled back, kitten in her hands, two containers of sushi serving as a plastic throne of sorts, and the whole bundle cuddled against her chest. She cooed to the kitten as she turned heel and headed straight toward the back of the store. “Aww, little princess needs a proper throne room, doesn’t she?”
Arkyn chased after her. Ama was slender, almost frail looking. Yet she walked with swift purpose, murmuring to the kitten the entire way. He rushed to keep up, arriving just in time to catch the sushi as she lifted her arms to show the kitten all her litter options.
He tucked the sushi football-style in his arms and murmured an unnecessary “Don’t go anywhere, I’ll grab a cart.” Ama didn’t respond, her attention fixated on the feline.
After he handed off the sushi to a worker and found an abandoned shopping cart nearby, he returned to the pet department, unsure what he’d find. Given his brief experience with Ama, she would either have decided the kitten needed one of everything, or she would have wandered off to the cosmetics department with the little fluffball.
What he found was Ama sitting crisscross in the middle of an aisle, her rapt attention on the kitten as it played with a feathered toy dangling from what looked to be a simple plastic fishing rod. Again, he watched Ama for a few moments. She had short hair dyed with a range of purples, her Saturday night spikes losing their starch at this point, but the cut proportionate with her slender frame, emphasizing her long neck and the spray of constellations tattooed across her clavicles to her shoulders. Even with her colorful clubbing makeup, her delicate features were obvious. High cheek bones slanted to a dainty chin. Her bowtie lips and gently sloped nose led to her eyes, currently focused toward the floor, but which he remembered being large and upturned at the ends like some anime heroine.
In fact, she reminded him of the female protagonists in the manga his cousin was so fond of. Ama was slim, slight, ethereal even… with a voice that floated around his head like clouds, substantial yet slipping from his grasp like air. As lovely as she was to look at, everything about her bordered on comical. Her clothing, her hair color, her scattered dance of conversation. So different than the strong, opinionated, solid women he was accustomed to dealing with. The women of Minnesota. The women in his family and those his brothers loved, shield maidens all of them, unafraid to fight beside their Drekison men.
By contrast, Ama was frail and vulnerable. A flighty hummingbird to the fierce raptors of his family.
He should walk away before Ama noticed him. She wasn’t the kind of woman he needed. Younger Arkyn might have pursued her for a fun fling, but today’s Arkyn needed a woman who could mesh with the strong personalities of his family and assume the role of matriarch when he assumed the role of alpha. Someone who could understand the special aspects of a life as a dragon shifter. His own shield maiden who could stand strong through the tempest of life.
Ama was none of that.
She was a fragile human who would likely require coddling and constant support and reassurance. She’d probably cry a lot and get her feelings hurt at the slightest thing and possibly rile up unnecessary drama. As supportive as his family was of one another, they’d run roughshod over her, even if it was unintentional.
Yeah, he should grab the kitten and some supplies, and bid Ama a good life. That would be best for everyone.
But then she looked up, a smile of recognition blooming on her face like dawn in the golden halls of Valhalla, its guileless welcome so pure, he forgot to breathe. Her bright anime eyes sparkled, the irises a swirling nebula of blue and purple with a ring of honey around the black hole of her pupils. Time slowed, suspended. He floated in the depths of her eyes, weightless and calm, surrounded by the vast expanse of space and all its possibilities yet compressed and focused as the head of a pin. His insignificant life put into perspective against the backdrop of the universe and all iterations of time, while the singular uniqueness of his very existence was cause to celebrate.
“Do you think the sushi place has milkshakes?”
Ama’s question tugged him back to the present. To this pet aisle in the 24-hour superstore, where he stared at this strange woman he’d just met while a kitten blithely chewed on a pink feather.
What the hell had just happened? How long had he stood there, lost in Ama’s gaze? He blinked and shook his head, almost regretting the renewed sense of standing on the ground surrounded by Earth’s gravity. Those were some amazing contacts she wore, likely more of her clubbing getup.
“Um, I’m not sure if they have milkshakes. But if they don’t, we’ll find someplace that does.”
Ama smiled at him like he’d hung the stars.