“The oracle is going to catch on,” Byron said. “You know she will.”
“No,” Van said, pushing himself to his feet and tightening his hands into fists. “No. This time, she won’t win over me. This time, I’m going to win.” He walked to the door to put his hand on it. “Now come on. You’ve warmed her up. Let’s put the rest of our plan in action.”
Byron gulped as he considered if there was any way to stop Van. But as he turned to glare at him, for a moment, he scared even Byron.
Scared him because sometimes Byron thought there was a darkness in Van that couldn’t be reached. Something that couldn’t be helped by just being in a partnership.
Something that might one day bring them both down.
But for the moment, he had no hope but to trust that Van knew what he was doing, so he followed the purple dragon.
Anna
Since Byron left, I’ve been watching the monster truck rally and eating popcorn bitterly while trying to calm down, but all the big trucks do is remind me of powerful dragons crushing everything in their path.
I turn off the TV with the remote, still frustrated with myself for kissing Byron.
And for wanting to kiss him again.
In my world, I didn’t have time to think of romance. I guess I’m pretty pent up. Not to mention, these are the most gorgeous men I’ve ever seen, and they tend to be seductive.
But… they all hate each other already, and I’m only going to make it worse.
For the ones I know best, like Griffin and Rainier, I don’t want anything bad to happen to them.
Even Byron seems like he needs me somehow.
Yet I can’t say no to my body, and I know this is going to blow up in my face when my friends arrive.
As long as they’re coming for me. Somehow, I thought they would be here already. But what if Griffin is still mad at me? What if he’s glad someone took me off his hands?
But Rainier would…
I trail off as a door opens upstairs, and I jerk upright, looking up to see Van come out of his room, followed by Byron.
Byron looks slightly embarrassed as he stares down at me, and it only makes him that much more beautiful.
I jerk my gaze away and turn the TV on, determined not to acknowledge them until they decide to return me to my friends.
Then they start down the stairway, and I’m so aware of their heavy footsteps that I can feel the hair on the back of my neck rising.
Dammit.
When they get downstairs, I’m hoping they’ll head into the kitchen or leave the house for a minute, but no luck.
Van doesn’t stop until he’s standing directly in front of me, forcing me to look right at his trim waist.
I slowly bring my eyes up to meet his. God, he’s pale and looks like he just went through some shit, but he’s gorgeous in a striking, haunted way that is the opposite of Byron. All pale skin and hard edges. Dark eyes, dark brows. Pale lips. Those beautiful irises like black crystals with purple at the center.
His pink tongue comes out to wet his lower lip, and I follow it with my eyes eagerly.
Dammit, I really am a slut.
Byron steps up beside him, arms folded. “I told you not to say that.”
“I guess we should punish her,” Van says lightly, resting his hand on his cheek. “But how?”
Byron slips onto the couch beside me, and I’m regretting leaving my chair to be in front of the TV. He leans back, putting an arm on the sofa behind me, and I’m so aware of his body heat that I can barely breathe.
“Um…”
Then Van slides onto the couch on the other side of me, and his arm goes behind me, probably crossing Byron’s.
So um, yeah. About that thing they do in pairs…
“We mate in pairs,” Van says in that low, smooth voice, moving his arm from the couch to my shoulder, stroking slightly. I arch away from his touch, hating how much I’m already tingling in anticipation.
Two men. Two men who look like this.
No, Anna. Focus. Getting with more dragons won’t fix anything.
But I must be a weak woman, because…
Byron tilts up my chin so I’m forced to look up at him, and he can see the lust in my eyes as Van’s hand comes back to trail down my shoulder. I feel it so intensely even through the soft sweater I’m wearing.
A sweater they bought me.
This is so wrong.
So why does it feel right as Byron tilts my chin a little farther and comes down to kiss me? Van’s arm snakes around my waist, pulling me in against his hard chest, and Byron wraps a hand around my neck and deepens the kiss.
Then I feel Van’s lips on my neck and gasp because it’s so sensitive. His lips are soft and tentative, lightly nipping and sucking before moving lower, moving my sweater out of the way as he trails down my shoulder.
Byron’s tongue is possessive now, thrusting deep, twisting against mine, and my hands grab my knees, not knowing where to go.
He grabs my hands and puts them around his neck, and I’m lost to everything but the way he kisses me, the way his thrusts echo in a place I’m wet and aching, and the way another set of perfect male lips is making my whole body burn for more.
I’m pinned between two dragons, and I don’t know how I could ever say no.
Van’s hand gets more possessive, squeezing my waist and pulling me away from Byron so I’m facing him now.
His eyes are intense as he brushes back my hair, studying me like there’s going to be a test. Then his lips slowly come closer to mine. Closer. By the time they finally touch, it feels like an electric shock goes through me. I’ve been waiting so long.
His kiss is feather light for a split second, and then with an aggressive growl, he buries his hand in my hair and grips it tight, making me squeak in surprise for a second before it’s swallowed up by his tongue pressing between my lips.
His kiss is rough now, savage, as he swipes deep inside my mouth and then pulls back to bite my lower lip, teasing it between his teeth just enough that it feels intense but doesn’t hurt.
In this moment, I feel totally owned, and the slight danger of it only makes it hotter.
His hand in my hair keeps me from escaping him as he kisses me so intensely that I can’t catch my breath until it’s over and my lips are swollen and wet.
He stares at me, and I feel almost afraid at the darkness in those penetrating purple eyes. But then his hand gentles, leaving my hair to trail down my neck.
He grasps it lightly, running his fingertips over the indent of my collarbone where he can feel my pulse.
I can’t move, even without Byron’s arms wrapping around my waist as if to pull me close.
Van lets out a low growl, and Byron gives him a glare.
As they stare each other down, my heart beats wildly. Their big, hot hands are on my waist, my shoulders, overwhelming me. I can still taste the way they each kiss.
And I’m wet and aching and ashamed and unsure what I should do from here.
Ignoring the haze of lust making it hard to think straight, I shove away from them both as hard as I can.
They let me go, and I flop down onto the carpet on my knees, staring up at them in fear. What if they don’t care that I don’t want to go further?
The other dragons didn’t do anything sexual that I didn’t want, but maybe these, these kidnappers—
“No,” Byron says, standing suddenly. “I can’t do this.” His eyes are a more brilliant gold than before, and his skin is glowing, his lips swollen from my kiss.
“Can’t do what?” I ask softly.
His eyes narrow on me, and I’m surprised by the rage I see there. “Can’t kiss someone who thinks I would rape them.”
He storms away from us through the front door, slamming it behind him, and I feel slightly ashamed by my own thoughts.
But it’s not my fault. This world has been confusing. I don’t understand myself. My own body. My heart.
Anything that’s happening.
“It
’s all right,” Van says, his soft, reassuring voice pouring over me like dark honey. He pats my shoulder and pushes himself up off the couch. “I’ll go make sure he’s all right.” He gets to the door and smirks at me over his shoulder. “If you want to pick this up later, come see me tonight. I’ll be ready.”
And then he goes out, shutting the door behind him. A second later, I hear the click of a lock.
Yeah, he might be ready, but I won’t be.
At least that’s what I tell myself.
35
Anna
By the time Van and Byron return, I’m safely sequestered in my room, enjoying one of the books I found on a shelf downstairs.
Just hearing their voices below me makes my skin crawl with nervousness.
I never expected to kiss Byron earlier or for them both to make a move.
Maybe there is something to these dragons forming pairs.
For a second, I get an image of Seth and Griffin because Seth has offered.
What would that be like?
My cheeks flame, and I flop down on the bed, embarrassed I can even think of that. I should just go to bed, because I bet my friends will catch up with me in the morning. Things will get better then.
Except Griffin might hate me, and Rainier might…
I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself. I’m at least here, in a bed, safe. Things will be fine.
I decide to get ready for bed and put on a nightgown and robe and turn out the lights.
For once, I kind of wish I was home. Where everything was difficult but less complicated. Where all I had to worry about was taking that next sucky call or paying another bill.
This life almost makes that one look easy.
But then I turn over and look at that purple-gray moon out my window and think about how it felt to fly on a dragon’s back. Multiple times.
How free I felt when flying with Griffin. How safe I felt with Rainier.
I can see all their faces watching me, and I know if I left, I could never forget them. Though I’ve known them for a short time, they’re a part of me. More than anyone in my regular life back in my world.
I sigh as I stare at the ceiling, lost in thought, slowly getting closer to sleep.
I drift off for a while but jolt awake to the sound of screaming.
Oh my God.
I quickly sit up, trying to get my bearings, and then shove myself off the bed, groping for my robe.
I don’t know what I expected while sleeping here in this cottage, but it definitely wasn’t to be woken with screams.
I know I probably can’t be of any use if someone is attacking the dragons, but I also can’t just sit here like a lump.
I open the door to the hallway just as I get the belt of my robe tied, and the screaming suddenly stops.
Followed by the sound of low sobs.
Coming from the room I saw Van come out of.
Goddammit, I’m softhearted.
I pad down the hall to the room and lift my hand to knock, hesitating only for a moment as I realize he might not want me here.
Then I bring my knuckles gently down on the door three times. “You okay in there?”
Utter silence.
“Dude, I heard screams.”
“Go away,” a voice rasps. I’m pretty sure it is Van.
I hear a door near the other side of the house and see Byron storming down the hallway toward us, fists clenched, brow tight.
He stops when he sees me, looking surprised. “What are you doing here?”
“I heard screaming.”
He slides past me, blocking the door. “This has nothing to do with you. Go to bed.”
I step back, and he opens the door and shoulders his way in, blocking my view until the door is closed.
I hear the sound of sobbing resume and stand frozen by the doorway.
Byron’s right. This has nothing to do with me. I should leave these stupid, sexy kidnappers alone.
Except the sound of Van’s voice is wrenching. Low, choked sobs that break my heart.
Then I hear arguing and the sound of a slap, and adrenaline makes me braver than I should be. I shove the door open and barrel inside because I don’t want the two of them to fight.
I freeze at the sight in front of me.
Van is sitting shirtless on the bed, muscles gleaming in the moonlight, and Byron is kneeling over him, his hand hanging as if it was the one that just delivered the slap.
There’s a red mark on Van’s cheek where Byron hit him.
I put my hand to my mouth. “Oh my God.”
Byron’s eyes widen. “No. You’re misunderstanding.”
“I’m okay,” Van says, rubbing his cheek as he stares at me, his eyes oddly vacant. “Byron was helping me.”
I walk to a chair and drop down in it because my heart is pounding so hard from all of this that it’s hard to think, let alone stand. “Okay, so what the hell is going on here?”
Byron’s brows lower. “We don’t have to answer to you, human.”
I open my mouth to argue but then catch my breath at the scene in front of me. Byron in a robe that is now open, showing his magnificent chest. Van looking strong yet vulnerable, protected by Byron.
Both of them on a bed together.
I gape as I feel my cheeks heat, and Byron lets out a sigh of relief as he sits down on the mattress, resting on his hand.
“I guess you can’t be taking this too wrong if you’re perving on us,” he says calmly.
I shut my mouth quickly, pressing back into my chair. “I just… Well, I’m human after all.”
“Right,” Byron says. “And we’re dragons, so we don’t owe you an explanation.”
I cock my head. “If you want me to mate with you, you do.”
Byron frowns, looking at Van, but Van just nods at him wearily, then turns to me.
“I have visions,” he says carefully.
I cock my head. “What?”
“Visions,” he says, losing his patience slightly. He brings a hand up to rub his temple. “Byron has to bring me out of them sometimes.”
“Why were you crying?”
Van’s expression is flat, his brows lowered. “That wasn’t me.”
I glance between them, confused. “What?”
“Byron, will you go out? I want to talk to her.”
“No,” Byron says.
Van pins him with a look, and though Byron looks stubborn, he slowly gets off the bed and walks out.
On his way, he puts his hand on my shoulder. “I’ll be down the hall. Call if you need me.”
I blink as he leaves, shutting the door behind him. This is his partner. Presumably someone he trusts. So why does it feel like he is worried about me?
36
Anna
Moonlight streams in over Van, who leans back on the bed in a seductive posture, resting on his elbow, one knee bent. He’s wearing soft black pants low on his hips, and it leaves little to the imagination.
Powerful chest. Powerful arms. Powerful stare. Long, wild rock star hair.
And those eyes. Purple and piercing.
I think I could run from him if not for those eyes.
Even now, the memory of his kiss sears me. I didn’t know I could like something so rough.
He raises a dark, arched eyebrow at me. “Lots of human women like a man who takes control.”
I cross one leg over the other, trying to look cool and collected as I sit in my chair, talking with the dragon who possibly makes me the most nervous. “Why were you crying?”
He blinks, and God, I’m jealous of those long lashes. “I told you. It wasn’t me.”
“I heard it,” I say. “It was you.”
His face goes a little paler and he straightens up, putting his feet on the floor as he sits on the edge of the bed. “You don’t know anything about me. How would you know my voice when I cry?”
“I don’t know,” I say, rubbing my arms because it’s a little cold in here. “I just knew when
I heard it. That’s why I was coming to your room.”
He’s quiet, and all I can hear is my own breathing, which is still a bit rapid from running down here after being woken up.
“I’m not a broken dragon,” he says, slanting a glare at me. “I don’t want you to think that. Though, I suppose it doesn’t matter what you think.”
I push myself out of the chair and walk over to stand in front of him, knowing I probably shouldn’t.
But he’s in pain right now. I can sense it. And I’ve never been able to stay away from someone in pain.
I reach out, unsure if I should touch him, and he stares at my hand like it’s some kind of bomb.
“Why did Byron slap you?” I ask.
His eyes meet mine then, and they’re so deep and fathomless. Black at the edges and then purple all the way down until it’s so dark it blends with his pupils. “That’s none of your business either.”
I sit on the bed next to him, knowing this might be a dangerous position. But at least I know Byron is nearby.
He may be an asshole, but—
Van gives me a wry smile. “You really should stop thinking like that.”
I grimace. “Sorry.”
He rubs his hands together and looks down at them. “Even if it’s true. The truth is we are all assholes. Some of us just pretend harder not to be.”
“Like who?” I ask.
“Seth and Griffin, I assume,” Van says, looking up at me. “How far have you gotten with them?”
I turn my head away, messing with a spare thread on the bedspread. “I’m sick of people asking me that. I’m sick of you all treating me like I’m part of some competition.”
“You are,” Van says frankly.
I look at his hair, how long and thick and untamed it is. If I put my fingers in it, would it be soft? I reach out, but he jerks back from me and his eyes look even more violet when wide. “Sorry,” I say, dropping my hand again.
“Don’t touch me unless I want to be touched,” he says acerbically.
“Right,” I say. “I just thought…”
“I don’t want my hair touched.”
I press my lips together. “I got it. No hair.”
He twists a lock of it in his hand, looking down at it. It’s about down to midback in some places. Women dye their hair to get this perfect, inky darkness.
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