by Tasha Black
Bowen settled right away, as if he wanted to hear her voice as badly as Zane did.
The song was nonsense, a list of gifts a parent promised a child in exchange for going to sleep. But the melody unlocked something in his chest, and he felt like he was falling.
She wants to kill someone, he reminded himself. She isn’t as sweet as she seems.
But he knew her better now. He understood her feelings for her father, and her fears about what could happen to her son.
Even if he knew killing a man was not the answer, he could see why she would want to attempt it. She wanted to keep her family safe.
And then a cloak of sadness fell over him.
Sarah Flynn was a determined woman. If she wanted that man dead, he was pretty sure she could make it happen.
And if she got her wish, she would have to live with the consequences.
Zane had trained since he was a fledgling to be prepared for war and death. But he was still haunted by the things he had done.
The big-hearted woman singing in the room next door was not equipped to deal with the knowledge that she had ended a life. He knew to his bones she was not.
How long until his sweet Sarah was a ghost of herself, wandering this house, wishing she could undo what she had done?
I could distract her. I could make her forget what she came here to do.
The idea stopped him in his tracks.
It was the height of vanity to think he could seduce her into letting go of her plans, but he knew the effect he had on women, and on this woman in particular. He had clocked his effect on Sarah with the dragon’s superior senses. When he was close her pulse quickened and the blood rushed to her cheeks.
Mate, the dragon groaned in his head.
But if he claimed her, and allowed the mate bond to draw them together permanently, he could not imagine the suffering they both would feel if she did not give up her quest for revenge.
Mate.
The dragon’s voice was insistent.
And the beast was right. It was too late for Zane to resist her. The delicate bond already held him fast like a spider’s web, soft and smooth as silk until he tried to pull away.
He was hers, and she was his.
The sooner she knew it, the better.
11
Sarah
Sarah gazed down at the peaceful face of her son.
He was asleep already, so there was no need for her to keep patting his little belly.
But there was something so sweet about communing quietly here with him.
His cheeks were pillowy soft, and his lower lip pouted in his sleep. He looked like one of the cherubs from the books her grandmother had read to her in her childhood, except for his beautiful golden skin.
Being his mother would be the greatest joy and responsibility of her life. She had hoped to bond with the baby, but she never dreamed it could be so easy, that she could love him so fiercely after only a few hours.
She tried to picture him older, and herself even more besotted.
“He’s amazing, isn’t he?” Zane’s low voice roused her from her dreams.
She turned to find him standing close behind her, gazing into the crib with a soft expression. She wondered if that was what she looked like, watching Bowen sleep.
“You love him too,” she realized out loud.
“My job is to protect him,” the warrior said gruffly.
“You do protect him,” Sarah said. “But you also love him.”
Zane’s eyes went to hers and she felt a flash of recognition go through her.
This wasn’t the first time today she had felt it. She was attracted to him, of course, he was incredibly handsome. Who wouldn’t be?
But it wasn’t just desire she felt. It was sense of the familiar. A sense of home.
“Sarah,” he said softly.
She reached for him in spite of herself, needing to touch that tense jaw.
He held perfectly still as she stroked his cheek.
The world pulled in tightly until there was nothing but the sensation of his rough jaw under her hand and the taut pull of his blue eyes.
Suddenly, she was being lifted up.
Zane cradled her in his warm arms, heading for her bedroom with a purposeful stride.
“Wh-what are we doing?” she murmured without taking her hand from his face.
But he carried her into her room and shut the door behind them without replying.
She closed her eyes, drinking in the sensations. His arms were so strong, the planes of his chest so firm, that she felt like she was floating in an ocean of masculinity.
He set her down on the edge of the bed and knelt at her feet.
“Do you feel it?” he asked.
She swore she could hear the harmonics in his voice, feel the pull of his desire for her.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Do you know what it means?” His voice was raspy and low.
She didn’t know. But she felt a longing so low and sweet she thought she might die.
“You are my mate,” he told her. “And the bond between us is already tightening, though I haven’t claimed you yet.”
Mate?
She blinked and tried to come out of the trance he had her in.
“Dragons know our mates from the moment we meet. And we mate for life,” he told her. “I know we just met, but we have the rest of our lives to get to know each other.”
“For life?” she managed to echo.
“Yes,” he said simply. “I’m not like Terran men, Sarah. When I claim you, it will be forever.”
She tried to take it in, and couldn’t. All she wanted was for him to touch her.
She slid her arms around his neck.
“Will you accept me, Sarah?” he asked, his voice low with desire. “I need to hear you say it.”
But she had forgotten how to speak, how to think. She slid her open palms down his chest, just like she had wanted to do before.
He sucked in a breath and held perfectly still, allowing her to mold her hands to his pecs, his ribs, his abs.
When she slid them down lower, he caught her wrists in his big hand.
“Enough,” he growled.
But she could sense the aching throb of his desire, how badly he wanted her hands on him.
She moaned lightly and he leaned in to swallow the sound, pressing his lips to hers.
He tasted like sunlight.
She let him thumb her jaw open, let him consume her mouth as her body sang and pulsed.
When he pulled away, she nearly cried with unsatisfied need.
But he was only pulling back to coax her all the way into the soft bed, so that her head rested on the pillows, and then he lay beside her, fixing her in his topaz gaze.
“Zane,” she managed to murmur.
“I know, my love,” he whispered. “You want me so much it hurts. I want you too, little one, but not until you decide to accept me as your mate.”
She moaned in frustration.
“Let me comfort you,” he whispered, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead.
His touch sent her into a haze again, she felt his warm lips caress her eyelids, her cheeks, her neck. Zane groaned as he nibbled the place where her neck met her shoulder and the sound reverberated through her, sending shivers down her spine.
He kissed his way down the low neck of her gown. She’d almost forgotten she was still wearing the frivolous garment the Agency had supplied.
There was a tearing sound, and when she looked down, she saw he had ripped it in half.
Good. I hate this gown. I want nothing between us.
But he was nuzzling her breasts and all thought left her mind as he licked one nipple into his mouth and rolled the other between his thumb and forefinger.
Sarah arched her back, longing for more.
Zane growled and fed on her breasts with abandon until she was crying out for more.
He rubbed his rough jaw against the tender skin of her bel
ly as he lowered himself downward, ripping her panties in half with another quick movement.
Sarah wavered between embarrassment and desire. No man had ever touched her there, but she was restless with desperate need.
When he nudged her legs, she let them fall apart for him, shameless in her need for his touch.
“Sarah,” he murmured as he pressed kisses to her inner thighs.
She let her head fall back as she took in the sensation of his warm breath against her sex, and then his tongue…
The world seemed to disappear from around them. There were only the soft, gentle movements of his warm mouth, and the wild, frantic pulse at her core as he coaxed her higher and higher until her hips trembled. It was all she could do to stop herself from tangling her hands in his hair and grinding herself into that clever mouth.
“Please,” she whimpered, helpless.
Instantly he increased the pressure of his mouth, flicking his tongue against her most sensitive spot as he eased a finger just inside her opening.
Sarah was soaring, the pleasure lifting her higher and higher, then pulsing down on her in waves of ecstasy that left her shivering and moaning.
12
Zane
Zane crawled up beside Sarah and pulled her into his arms.
He was burning with need for her, his body racked with desire, his soul crying out to be joined with hers.
But he would not claim her until she begged.
Forever, he reminded himself.
He would not bind her to him forever if she had any doubts.
But her arms were going around his neck and she was pressing her bare body close, as if urging him to forget his determination to be patient.
“No, my love,” he whispered to her. He could hear the naked desire in his own voice.
“Don’t you… want me?” she asked him.
He pressed his lips to her forehead again.
“I want you so much,” he assured her. “So much that it hurts, but we won’t seal our bond until I know it’s what you want.”
She was quiet for a moment.
“Can I help you like you helped me?” she offered quietly.
He closed his eyes and counted to ten, trying desperately not to think of her sweet mouth on his rigid cock.
“No,” he whispered through a taut jaw. “Let’s get some rest. Bowen will wake us before dawn.”
She snuggled into his chest and he stroked her back until her breathing slowed.
He lay awake for a long time, waiting for the pounding of his own pulse to slow.
He must have fallen asleep at some point, because he awoke with his arms around her. It was still dark, but he could hear Bowen making soft, wakeful sounds in his room down the hall.
He let Sarah go regretfully, sliding out of bed and replacing himself with a pillow and another blanket. Sarah snuggled in, her forehead slightly furrowed.
Good. She should feel incomplete without me.
But he bent to brush her hair with his lips. When he straightened, he could see she was smiling slightly in her sleep.
He headed out to the hallway and ducked into Bowen’s room. The baby was kicking his little feet and smiling up at the mobile that floated over his crib. Tiny dragons - he wasn’t sure whether to be flattered or offended.
“Good morning, whelp,” he told the boy.
Bowen squeaked back and smiled, dimples on full display.
“Let’s find some breakfast,” Zane said, lifting the babe in his arms.
Bowen banged his head on Zane’s chest in agreement and grabbed a hank of his hair for good measure.
“You’re very hungry,” Zane said, impressed. “You are growing.”
Bowen made noises of spirited agreement, though Zane was sure the boy didn’t understand what he had said. They headed into the main area of the house, and Zane checked out the contents of the kitchen.
It was fairly well stocked. There was no produce, so they would have to shop soon. But the ice box held plenty of milk, eggs, and butter, and there were dry and canned ingredients in the cupboard over the stove.
He warmed some milk and cereal for Bowen and thought over what he could cook while he fed the boy.
“I think Sarah will like hen’s bread,” he told Bowen. “What do you think?”
But Bowen was eating as fast as he could. He had no time for talking.
Zane put Bowen in a play seat near the table when he was finished with his meal. The boy bounced and played happily with the plastic beads on the wire framework of the seat.
Based on Zane’s experience, this happiness wouldn’t last long. Bowen liked being held. There was limited time for cooking.
He put on a kettle for tea. Then he grabbed a frying pan and began cracking eggs and dipping in slices of thick bread.
Soon the griddle was sizzling, and he was flipping warm hen’s bread onto plates.
Bowen had stopped playing with the beads to cackle at him and Zane was being a little silly about his work to amuse the boy.
Suddenly, he sensed his mate was near.
He looked up to see that Sarah was standing in the doorway, a shy smile on her face.
“How long have you been standing there?” he asked.
“Long enough,” she teased. “I didn’t know they made my grandmother’s favorite breakfast on Ignis-7.”
“We call it hen’s bread,” he said. “Bread dipped in eggs and milk and fried?”
“Exactly,” she confirmed. “My grandmother always called it panperdy, though I never asked why.”
“Do you like it?” he asked.
“I love it,” she told him. “She used to make it for us as a special treat.”
“Good, I hope you’re hungry,” he told her.
“I could get used to this,” she said, sitting down at the table beside Bowen’s play seat.
Immediately, the boy put his arms up to her, lower lip trembling.
“You can’t fool me,” she said, laughing as she got him out. “I saw how much fun you were having.”
“He really likes to be held,” Zane explained.
“I really like holding him,” Sarah said, kissing the boy on top of his fluffy head.
Zane felt a wave of love so intense he couldn’t speak and had to turn back to the stove so Sarah wouldn’t see the tears in his eyes.
He was an Invicta warrior. Warriors did not weep.
“So how long until dawn?” Sarah asked. “Do we have time to eat?”
“Of course,” Zane told her. “Little Bowen knew just when to wake us.”
He placed a plate of hen’s bread in front of her and went back for his own, and the pot of tea.
“Thank you,” Sarah said. “This is really nice - berries and everything.”
“The berries came from a can,” he warned her. “But I think it will be pretty good anyway.”
He watched her take the first bite and then close her eyes in ecstasy.
Gods…
“Mmmm,” she moaned over it.
“Good?” he managed to choke out.
“Unbelievable,” she told him.
Bowen squawked at her, as if only just realizing that she had food and that maybe his breakfast had not been enough.
“Did you want some panperdy?” she asked him.
He whacked her chest with his chubby arm.
“Okay,” she said, cutting off a tiny piece to feed to him.
He worked it in his mouth for a minute, eyes wide.
It was hard for Zane to tell whether the boy liked foods right away, this suspense while the whelp gave the bread a try was riveting.
“Mah,” Bowen cried as soon as he had swallowed the bite.
“Oh, he likes it,” Zane said.
There was quiet for a few minutes except for the clink of knives and forks and Bowen’s imperious cries as they cut up tiny bites as fast as they could.
At last, Sarah held out a bite and Bowen let it fall out of his mouth.
“I think that means he’s don
e,” Zane laughed.
The boy yawned as if in agreement, and rested his head on Sarah’s chest.
The scene was so peaceful. His mate and child enjoying a nice breakfast.
After the horrors he’d seen on the front lines of Falnnos, this felt almost like it couldn’t be real.
“So, we’re meeting Slade this morning,” she said, breaking the spell.
He felt a wave of fury at the mention of the other man, though he had done nothing wrong.
“Can I ask you something?” she asked.
“Of course.”
“Can’t you just turn into a dragon and fly up to check out where Caldwell is?” she asked. “That isn’t the same as taking him down. You would just be helping me find him.”
“That’s not the way this works, Sarah,” he told her. “The Invicta can only shift to protect the mother land. And in my case, also to protect Bowen.”
“So, last night…?” she began.
For a golden instant he thought she was going to bring up their mate bond. But then he remembered how he had shifted when the neighbors were there.
“That was to protect Bowen,” he said. “I didn’t know who was here.”
Sarah looked disappointed, but she nodded.
It occurred to him that she was stubborn enough herself that she must respect that he had boundaries, too.
“Well, even if you won’t help me, thank goodness Slade will,” she said, standing and clearing their plates. “Are you ready?”
He nodded, too furious to reply.
Slade was only helping her for money. And because she was radiantly beautiful.
But there was nothing Zane could do about it. He would not defy the Invicta code just to make her like him.
She was going to have to like him for himself.
Deep in his chest the dragon roared and paced. He didn’t care why Sarah liked him. He didn’t care for any of this human nonsense.
His need to claim her was primal.
13
Zane
Zane carried Bowen and kept an eye on Sarah as they walked through the blue-green meadow to the edge of town. She showed no signs of pain, at least not that he noticed. She wasn’t even using the cane, although she still had it with her.
