by J. K Harper
As he kissed her, he curved up his other hand on her neck, then brought both hands around to cup her face. His hands were so huge against her, so all-enveloping. He was harder, earthier, stronger than any guy who'd ever held her or kissed her before. So much so that the memory of every single one of them was instantly lost from her mind as she kissed this one back. Oh, could Beckett kiss. He groaned against her, leaning forward until his entire body leaned into her, his chest pushing against her breasts, against her abruptly super sensitive nipples. His hips pressed hard and firm against hers, making her gasp against him. His thighs, which basically felt like thick tree trunks, pushed into hers. It was like being held by a mountain. Each stroke of his tongue inside her mouth sent more fire dancing along her veins.
"I like kissing you, Pix," he said against her lips, the words vibrating into her head.
She blinked her eyes open, feeling heavy lidded and half drunk with desire. "I like kissing you too, Beckett," she whispered back. Looking right into his eyes, feeling the mingled lust and like and need swirl through her, she added, “I like everything about you.” It was too much say, too soon. But she said it anyway.
As he looked back into her eyes, Beckett suddenly frowned. The planes of his face hardened, going granite cold in a nanosecond. Muttering, "What the hell?" he reared back from her. Taking the warmth and strength away. As he stepped back, staring hard, his entire body suddenly stilled into that of a predator that had just scented danger.
What the... Understanding suddenly washed over her. Shit. Her eyes. She was aroused, not thinking. Pure, wild instinct had taken over, and her eyes had changed because Beckett was kissing her. Her dragon had roared into her eyes, and he could see it.
He grabbed her chin and turned her face up, staring into her face as shock cascaded through his expression. She knew exactly what he was seeing: her eyes, a suddenly bright silver, the irises thin vertical black slits. Like a cat's eyes. Except that she definitely wasn't a cat.
Deliberately, he sniffed the air, knowing she could tell what he was doing. Contrary to popular myth, canine shifters like wolves didn't have the best noses. Bears actually had superior olfactory systems, and Beckett was using his right now. “You don't smell like a shifter." His voice was pure gravel. Dark gravel filled with anger.
No, no, this wasn't going like it should be. Feeling cold splashing in and out of the heat in her veins, Pix reached for him, but he shook his head. Hard. Blinking back against the freeze that seemed to be filling her from the inside, she said, "And what if I am one? Would that change things?” Her voice sounded scratchy.
“I can't scent you. You can't be a shifter.” His voice came out flat. She could sense his bear rumbling beneath his skin, close to the surface. “But clearly you are one. What the hell are you?”
She forced herself to look right at him, although inside she suddenly felt like she was wilting. She was so stupid. She should have told him earlier today. But she was so used to not talking about that side of herself anymore, so accustomed to not being judged solely for being a dragon shifter any longer, she'd just pretended she didn't need to say anything. In a low voice, she pushed out, “I don't have a scent to other shifters the way your kind does.”
A shiver rocketed through him. “My kind?” His bear roughened his voice, making a growl roll through it.
“Bear kind. Furred kind.”
“Furred kind? What the fuck does that mean? You don't have fur? What the hell are you?” His voice was so low it came out almost more rumble than words.
“I mean,” she pushed out despite the tight band that seemed to be constricting around her chest, “the kind that are mammals usually found on this planet. The kind with fur. Or hair. Not my kind.” She should have done this sooner. Inside, her dragon bellowed. Pix felt her abruptly tenuous control over that part of herself loosening even more.
Face dark, his jaw tight, Beckett just stared at her, chest heaving as he breathed hard. His eyes glowed bright with his agitated bear's presence.
“Beckett.” She stopped, caught by the hardness of his stare and the angry heat in his eyes. This was even harder than she'd thought. Inside her mind, wings flapped hard and angry. Just as enraged as Beckett's bear seemed. “Beckett, haven't you met one of my kind before?”
Before she could finish her sentence, he guessed.
“Dragon. You're a dragon shifter." His flat voice bumped between them, sending a sudden chill through Pix. “What the fuck, Pix. Why the hell didn’t you tell me that?”
She held his gaze even as it felt like ice replaced all the fire inside her. Her dragon screamed inside her again, wanting to do—something. Pix wasn't sure what.
Beckett ground his teeth. "You knew from the beginning I was a bear shifter, and you were hiding something as big as this the whole time? You just let me think you were human? Was this some sort of fucking joke to you? I thought you were real. Honest, and real. Not a liar." Though he still kept his voice low, the darkness in it rolled over her like a relentless shadow. Darkness, and something else. Something that went deeper.
Pain.
She had hurt him.
"No! Shit. I'm sorry.” She felt colder by the second, not to mention she also felt like a total fool. “This isn't how I meant to tell you. Let me explain—"
But he was already shaking his head, his expression almost wondering in its anger. "Fuck, Pix. No. No way. I like you, and I like kissing you, but I can't hang with someone who can't be honest with me from the get-go. Not even for just one damn night.” His tone deepened with every word, getting rougher, as craggy and wild as the mountains around them. “If you can't be honest with me about something as big as this—" His words disappeared, swallowed into the growl of his bear.
Shit, he sort of looked bigger. Growlier. Was he losing control?
Pix felt a tremor in her jaw. His words hurt more than they should have. She barely knew the guy. He had no pull on her. Right? This was just for fun. No one had control over her. Not even a sexy, funny, kind, fascinating bear shifter who set her completely on fire every time he looked at her.
But it did hurt. The same way she'd apparently hurt him. What did that even mean?
Her thoughts dropped, hollow, into a mind staggering under the weight of her dragon's insistent unraveling of her composure. Shit shit shit. Her dragon was pissed as hell. She clutched her hands to her head.
“Beckett,” she began, forcing her words out, “wait, just give me a minute. I can explain. I just need some time.” She gasped as her dragon screamed again, wings beating hard against her thoughts, making then scatter. She wildly swung her head, then looked at Beckett. She could feel her dragon trying to lunge out of her eyes, trying to rip through her skin. Holy shit, she was about to lose control. What was going on here?
But he stepped back even farther from her, his own eyes wide and glowing. A snarl ripped out of him, then another. He kept backing away from her, staring at her eyes and shaking his head. “No,” he growled, his voice almost not human anymore. Pix didn't even notice if anyone else was around. She didn't care anymore. “I have to get away from you.”
With that, he abruptly turned and stalked off down the street, away from her, away from his own vehicle, away from the town, away from everyone. His feet picked up the pace until he was loping, his steps heavy and hard on the ground as he raced away from her and the part of herself she'd been stupid enough to try and hide from him.
Oh, that hurt. Watching him race away from her and the out-of-control beast she had inside. I have to get away from you. Her breath shuddered with how much those words hurt.
She barely knew him, and already he could hurt her. How was that even possible?
Her dragon screamed again, the sound ringing with violent fury throughout Pix's mind.
Damn it. She had to let her dragon out. Now.
Whirling around, she lunged for the shadows cast by the buildings over the sidewalk, then ducked down a side street dimmer than the rest. Her dragon bellowed and
scratched inside her, desperate to be free. She would force the change in seconds if Pix didn't allow it. Damn it, this was too much.
Fighting hard against the change, struggling to hold it in, to rein back her enraged dragon for just a few more moments, Pix bolted hard to reach the end of a little driveway outside a dark house. Trying with all her might to keep the dragons sounds inside, gasping in spite of herself, she finally allowed her dragon to burst out of her.
The change ripped over her, fast. Painful. It was so fast it actually physically hurt, making her cry out as tears welled up in her eyes. She gritted her teeth and tried to let it flow over her, giving way to her dragon. Silver flashed in the night as her wings snapped out, unfurling almost to the houses on either side of the darkened little street. Pix launched herself skyward, letting the downdraft shove her up out of little Deep Hollow, above the shifter town, away from Beckett.
Beckett, the big man who carved beautifully detailed toys for kids, who spiked hot cocoa with marshmallow vodka, who'd just moments ago been kissing Pix like they were meant to be doing that for the rest of their lives. Like they knew one another in a way she'd never thought possible.
In a way she now might have screwed up from ever being possible at all.
As she soared through the dark, flying toward the emptiness of the wild mountains, she glanced down, looking for the shape of a large bear galloping through the town below. But she didn’t see him. Keeping her angry-sad cry choked inside her, she waited until she was far from the town, soaring over the empty, snow-covered forests. Then she screamed into the night, the massive sound booming through the air. Long, sad, angry, and a little frightened. Just the way her heart felt, beating hard inside her massive chest as she flew ever farther away. Away from Beckett. The fascinating man who had irrevocably changed her entire life in less than twenty-four hours.
The man she now knew without a doubt, despite the pain of having screwed things up, she for sure would see again. There was zero chance she could ignore the powerful connection sparking between them. The thing that told her he was much more than a one night stand.
As her dragon, she could recognize the truth that kept echoing inside her: Mate. Mate. He is my mate.
8
Beckett shoved his way out of Deep Hollow's small, solo grocery store, hauling his several shopping bags to his truck. His bear rumbled and grumbled and itched beneath his skin. He knew his eyes would be glowing with the strong emotions racing through him. He'd been wearing sunglasses all day, even inside every store he'd entered. Those who knew him, which was to say the whole town, knew it meant he was probably having problems controlling his bear. As usual. Despite the fun of the tree-lighting ceremony last night, how he’d been there and been calm and easy and kept smiling like some happy lunatic, today everyone kept out of his way. Aside from the cue of his sunglasses, he knew his irritation just poured off of him, and every townie could sense it. Anger, aggression, and a bizarre restlessness were his vibe today, and that made him dangerous.
Restless. That was what Pix had called herself, at least one of the things she'd mentioned. One thing she hadn't said, he thought as his strides began to speed up, was that she was a dragon shifter. A fucking dragon shifter. What the damned fuck. Her eyes, all bright silver with the slitted irises, had chased him all last night, through his dreams, and all this morning. He'd found his way back to his cabin on all fours, shifting into his furious, roaring bear as soon as he was out of the town proper and in the woods. He'd been so afraid he might actually go after Pix in his bear shape he'd had to run from her.
Like a giant fucking coward. A furious, hurt one.
How the hell could she have not told him she was a shifter? Worse yet, how could he not have realized it? Sure, dragons didn't have a scent to pick up. He'd known that, but he'd never really thought about it before because he didn't know that many dragon shifters. They stayed as guests up at the Silvertip Lodge sometimes, just like every other shifter type that existed, but Beckett didn't work at the Lodge, and he didn't spend a ton of time there. There was a lone dragon shifter who lived in town, but he kept to himself even more than Beckett did.
His steps pounded even faster on the parking lot that still had patches of snow here and there despite the best clearing efforts of the grocery store staff. He'd been so enthralled with Pix, with how funny she was. How badass, how interesting, how totally—herself. He grunted under his breath. Herself. She was herself, but she had a part of herself that she hadn't wanted to share with him. His bear roared, twitching under Beckett's skin.
And why the fuck he gave a fuck was beyond him. Bang 'Em Beckett, that's the name, he thought savagely to himself as he tossed his groceries into the back of his truck. Except this time, he hadn't even had a chance to bang her yet.
But fuuuck him, how he still wanted to do just that. Bang her. Except that calling it that just felt weirdly crude when it came to Pix. He more wanted to kiss her all over. Lick her, stroke her, pull her down on top of him, hold those small, sweet curves close. Okay, fine, he wanted to have crazy hot wild sex with her. He wanted to fuck her till she screamed her release, mindless with pleasure because of him. But he also wanted to hold her close, to be tender with her, to cradle her in his arms and never let her go.
Fucking hell. Clearly, he was losing his damned mind.
He started to yank open the driver's side door when someone called out his name.
"Beckett. Hey man, hold up there."
Ah, shit. Cortez. He'd been ducking Cortez's phone calls all morning. No avoiding him now, though. Growling, he turned around and glared at his best friend. "What?" he barked.
Cortez shook his head as he ambled up. "I'm gonna be straight with you, dickwad."
Beckett snorted. Typical Cortez style. He didn't beat around the bush.
"So I just barely met Haley, right?” Cortez drummed the fingers of one hand on his thigh. “She's awesome. I like her a lot. Then her best friend comes out to visit her, somehow meets your dumb ass, and for some even crazier reason, seems to like you."
Beckett felt a growl rattle through his throat. His bear clawed at his chest.
"Then for some other who-knows-what reason,” and now Cortez was narrowing his eyes at Beckett, “something went down with you guys last night that wasn't good. So now Haley's really upset, too. She's upset that her best friend is sad, she complains to me, and worse yet, she got so distracted when Pix came back last night, all alone and also upset, that I didn't get any sweet loving from that sexy woman like I'd wanted. That means now it's personal, man.” Cortez's jaw was set as he leveled a glare at Beckett. “I don't like to interfere in your shit, but seriously. I have to respectfully ask you to get your head out of your ass and fix whatever it is you have going on with Pix, because you're ruining a good thing for me with Haley."
Beckett growled. "I didn't ruin anything. She did. Pix, I mean." Saying her name was hard. He grunted. This was ridiculous.
Cortez gave him a squinty-eyed stare. "Nope. I know you. It was all you. You ruined it for sure. And you did it before you even spent one night with her. You trying for a new track record?"
Beckett clenched his fists at his sides as his bear roiled thunder inside him. Cortez was pushing the envelope, hard. But he wasn't Beckett's best friend for no reason. He knew Beckett well enough that he could stare his friend in the face, say something like that, and know that Beckett wouldn't rip him to shreds.
After another long, tense moment, Beckett shook out his hands to try and release some of the tension. In a low voice still pocked by snarls he said, "No. She ruined it. She's a fucking dragon shifter, Cortez. A dragon shifter.” He glared at his friend to emphasize the seriousness of it. “I couldn't tell. You know dragon shifters don't have a freaking scent like normal shifters do. She knew I was a bear, and she didn't bother to tell me she's a shifter, too."
Cortez's mouth opened and his eyebrows raised in gratifying response. "A dragon shifter? That itty-bitty thing? That’s nuts. You sure you
heard her right?"
Beckett jerked a single nod. "I tried to scent her again after she told me. Finally thought I could smell something like brimstone." He frowned.
Rolling his eyes, Cortez snorted. “Overactive imagination, dumbass. You sound like a power-mad preacher saying words like that. Dragons don't have to use brimstone, they have their fire naturally inside them.”
“Whatever.” Beckett growled. “I saw her eyes shift last night. Dragon eyes. Glowing silver and slit like a cat's. But cats don't have silver eyes. She’s a dragon.”
Cortez stayed silent for a long moment, mulling it over. Finally he said, “Haley didn't mention that to me. The dragon shifter part.”
Beckett scowled even more. “See? Pix can't even tell the truth to her best friend, and she wouldn't share with me even though she knew I was a bear shifter. Someone like her can't be trusted." His bear snarled as he thought that. Beckett shrugged it off with an angry jerk of his shoulders. He was pissed off, damn it, and he wanted to stay that way.
“No, dumbass. I didn't say she hasn't told Haley, I said Haley didn't tell me. There might be a reason she doesn't want people to know she's a dragon.” Now Cortez gave him another look. "Oh, hell. Wait a minute. You planned to spend a single night with her, but now you're saying you really care if she didn't tell you? Nope.” He grinned big. “No way. There's more to it. “You like her. You really like her. Holy shit, Beckett. You like her." Cortez tucked his thumbs in his belt loops and rocked back on his heels, starting to laugh as he slowly shook his head.
Beckett took a shuddering breath, which rattled up as a growl in his throat. "I do not like her."
"Do so," Cortez retorted, laughing past his words.
"Do not."
“Do so.”
“Do not.” Beckett clenched his fists as he snarled the words out like they were kids on the playground having a tantrum fight. The thing was, he was lying to himself and he knew it. Damn it all.
