by Meg Ripley
From her vantage point, she lifted her face to the sky and she roared. The dark thing inside of her dislodged from her throat and flew at the great monster in the sky. For a moment, April was sure she could actually see it: some sort of cloud that expanded until it surrounded Savannah completely.
In the next instant, Savannah turned to stone.
The massive rock shattered as it hit the earth, immediately losing its form, turning to dust and pebbles. The earth shook from the impact and she lost her footing, falling flat on Mads’ stomach. She lay where she fell, silent tears wetting her cheeks, falling down on him like rain. She could feel the heat of the fire-now completely wild across the parched land. It would spread to them soon, and they would burn, exactly as Savannah had predicted. April could get up and run, but run to where? Home? What home did she have without Mads?
Her tears fell in a torrent, clogging her nose and sinuses, until she was finally forced to lift her head. The fire danced ever closer, and she couldn’t withstand the heat on her cheeks. Her tears evaporated, her skin pulled tight, and a sort of peace enveloped her. This is it. This is…
Movement beneath her cut off her thought. She closed her eyes, unable to bear the sudden flare of hope. It’s nothing. He’s not-
Breathing. One long slow inhale. One very slow exhale. And another one after that.
April crawled up his body. “Mads? Mads, are you awake? Mads?”
His wings had been splayed over the ground, but now they moved up, enclosing her in a protective cocoon. The heat of the wildfire disappeared and she could hear his heart beating against his ribs. The tears sprung back to her eyes, though this time they were from pure relief. He was alive. She’d been mistaken before. What did she know about dragon physiology? Perhaps he’d just been in shock and—
His talons closed around her and the world shifted as he righted himself, wings pulling back to lift them towards the clouds and safety. She looked down as the flames caught the house, consuming the dry wood in seconds. The thick smoke was already obscuring the sun, and Mads was moving swiftly to escape the battleground, but April saw the outline of the dragon’s tail in a stone cropping. It looked like the remnants of an ancient dinosaur, and that too was lost to the golden-red fire.
48
“Tell me again, what happened?”
April sighed. “My story is not going to change, you know.”
“I’m not expecting it to change. I’m just trying to understand.”
“You’re trying to understand? What makes you think I understand? You were dead. She turned to stone.”
“And your fingers are healed,” Mads added.
April looked down at her hand—normal now. No pain, no twisted fingers, no swollen, broken joints or discolored bruises. She had no memory of when her hand returned to normal. Was it before or after Mads lifted her to safety? Was it before or after he died?
“Well, I don’t care.”
“You don’t care?” Mads asked.
“No. I don’t. All I care about is that you’re alive and she’s not, and now we’re both safe.” She was still staring at her hand as she spoke. It was difficult, if not impossible, to meet his eyes. Since they reached the sanctity of his penthouse, she felt uncomfortable. Like she was walking on pins and needles, and soon her feet would turn into balloons.
“I don’t believe you don’t care.”
“Then enlighten me on what I feel.”
He lowered himself to one knee and took her hand, running his fingers over her unbroken knuckles. Her hand was so small in his. “You’re frightened.”
“Savannah’s dead. Why should I be scared?”
“You’re not afraid of Savannah. You’re afraid of yourself.”
April pulled her hand away. “That’s ridiculous.”
“You know you can fool everybody else, April, but you can’t fool me. I can feel what you feel. I can hear your heart pounding and your blood racing. I can see the shadow in your eyes.”
She sighed again. She knew she was beat. He wouldn’t be dissuaded by silence or by sarcasm. He would sit there all night if he had to, and all the next morning, and the day after that. “What kind of monster am I, Mads?”
“You’re not a monster. I can tell you that right now.”
“But I killed a dragon in mid-air.”
“And you brought one back to life.”
“Yeah, that, well, that’s not normal. Normal people don’t turn things to stone. Normal people don’t bring back the dead. Normal people don’t fall in love with—”
“With monsters?”
“That’s not what I was going to say.”
“You’re not a monster. You’re a beautiful, brilliant woman. You’re also a gorgon.”
April blinked. “What? I’m a...gorgon?”
“Yes.”
“I’m a creature so ugly I turn men to stone? Like Medusa?”
“She was not so ugly that she turned men to stone. She was so beautiful that she turned men to stone. She crippled armies because a single look at her and a man no longer wanted to fight. Do you know anything else about gorgons?”
April shook her head. She remembered the story of Medusa from school, but she couldn’t recall any other mention of gorgons.
“They are powerful creatures of protection. A long time ago, gorgons were as numerous as dragons. They would often favor a single family or clan and protect them from generation to generation. As a result, they were worshipped as goddesses all over the world and throughout time.”
“What happened to them?”
“Powerful women are not always regarded highly. Many were burned and hung as witches, and those that survived went into hiding. I haven’t seen a gorgon in a couple of centuries, at least.” He tilted his head, regarding her with a thoughtful quirk of his lips. “Perhaps that is why I did not recognize you as one at first.”
“But how can I be a gorgon?”
“Was your mother one?”
“No...well, I don’t know. I never knew my mother. My father raised me. He said she had to go home.”
“Home? What does that mean?”
“I thought it meant heaven, to tell you the truth. There was another girl in my class whose mother had died, and she said that her mother went home to the angels. So I figured that’s probably where mine went, too. But…”
“But perhaps he meant something different.”
“Perhaps.” She tugged on his hand, pulling him to his feet. She needed more than the touch of his hand. He understood her silent request, setting on the bed beside her and pulling her into his arms. She rested her head against his chest, listening for the steady beat of his heart. It was the most joyful, comforting sound she’d ever heard.
“I can bring back the dead?” she asked.
“The blood from your right side will cure all and, yes, bring back the dead. The blood from your left is a poison that nobody can recover from.”
“And I can turn things to stone?”
“I had always assumed that was merely part of the legend, but apparently, I was mistaken.”
“What else? You said gorgons could protect a single family for generations. Does that mean I’m immortal?”
“You are like me. Not invulnerable to death, but you’re not going to die unless your head is removed.”
It would take her some time and space to fully process and understand everything she’d learned about herself, but that was all she truly needed to know. She was not going to grow old and die, leaving Mads behind. Perhaps they could never have a child together, but their time together would not be limited by a mortal lifespan.
“I want to go back to Germany.”
“Then we shall.”
“Is this finally over? Or is Charles going to come after us next?”
“Charles? That threat has been removed.”
She blinked up at Mads. “Did you kill him?”
“No, but I sent somebody to pay him a… friendly visit. He’s already lost his wife and his s
on. He doesn’t want to risk anything else.”
“For his sake, I hope that’s true.”
“Would you take his life, April?” Mads asked.
“I don’t want to take anybody’s life. But I’m never... I’ll never see you like that again. Dead.” She swallowed hard and shook her head. “No. Never again.”
49
Their return to Germany brought April a level of peace she hadn’t anticipated. Despite only being there once before in her life, she experienced the undeniable sensation of returning home. When she stepped into the huge fortress, she saw it with the eyes of a weary traveler finally coming to a place of rest. Something unknotted itself in her chest and she almost broke down in tears. She had to turn away from Mads and blink until the stinging sensation passed.
“Are you well?” Mads asked.
“Yes. I’m fine.” She smiled up at him, hoping he wouldn’t notice the tears still swimming in her eyes. “I just need a few minutes to freshen up.”
She didn’t leave the bathroom until the tears were dry and the wave of emotion completely passed over her. She showered, changed out of her traveling clothes into comfortable pajamas and then went in search of her man. She found Mads in his library, standing knee deep in books, his face creased with a thoughtful frown.
“Busy?”
“Not at all. I was just doing a bit of reading.”
“On what?”
“You. I wanted to be prepared in case you had any further questions.”
“I’m sure I’ll have a lot of questions for you.” She stepped forward and gently took the book from his fingers, scanning over the open page. Her eyes fell on the illustration of Medusa—a monstrous face with a crown of hissing snakes. “But I don’t know if I feel like talking about it right now.”
His hand fell over the page, obscuring the image. “I know how it feels. Looking for yourself and finding a monster. But April, you’re not a monster.”
She let him take the book from her and his arms closed around her. She melted against him, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, blocking everything else from her senses. She reacted that way each time he held her, utterly devoting herself to the experience of the embrace, doing her best to brand every second to her memory, as though it could all be taken from her in an instant. It nearly was stolen from her. It almost ended before they really even could begin.
“Oh, Mads,” she cried, burying her face in his chest. He stiffened slightly and she could feel the tension in his arms and along his ramrod straight spine and suddenly his silk shirt felt as rough against her cheek as a burlap bag. She tore at the garment mindlessly, tugging the buttons open until she finally felt his skin. She sought out the heat of his body with her mouth, inhaling him, tasting him, still needing more of him. The mark on her thigh throbbed as her lips moved over the expanse of his chest.
“April—”
“I need you. I need...I need to know that you’re here. I need to feel the fire that burns inside of you.” She kissed him with each word, tears streaming down her cheeks, her mouth ravenous, moving up his throat, along his jawline, back down his shoulder. She felt like she was in a freefall until the moment he grasped her arms, his fingers like bands of iron hot from the forge.
“April!” Her name was a joyous roar, a sound that felt like long nails scratching down her back. Her spine arched and she tingled with goose bumps. Her mouth became bolder, her hands exploring every inch of him she could reach. She scratched and teased with her nails until she felt a shiver work down his spine.
His hands were busy, too, removing the silk pajamas she wore after her shower. They fell from her without a sound, pooling at her feet to reveal her sensitive body to his questing fingers. His left hand went directly to her breast, cupping her with a possessive, yet gentle, touch. His right hand moved to her waist, pulling her closer against his erection, then moved over the sensitive skin at the small of her back. He found every sensitive spot, every place that made her knees quiver.
April had the taste of his skin in her mouth, but it wasn’t enough. Not even close to enough. She hooked her fingers over his pants and tugged them down, not even allowing him to step free of their confines before closing her mouth around his cock. She closed her eyes and nearly whimpered with the delight of him—of the texture of his skin, the salty taste, the heat, the rhythm of his vein against her tongue. She inhaled deeply to take in the scent of his skin as well, and it mingled and created the true, living scent of him.
His fingers threaded through her hair, his palm coming to rest on the back of her head. He didn’t try to guide her, simply held her, as if to anchor himself. She eagerly took his full length, drawing the fat tip to the back of her throat and holding him there, using her tongue and throat muscles to draw long moans from him. They were so deep and low they were almost growls, punctuated only occasionally by words. Yes. Oh yes. Oh April.
Her pussy clenched with each vibration of sound, reminding her incessantly that she still needed him. That as good as he felt in her mouth, as good as he tasted and smelled and sounded, it still wasn’t even close to enough. Her clit throbbed, and the mark in her thigh was now almost screaming for relief from an itch that went deeper than any human fingers could scratch.
“God, I can feel you,” he said on a sharp intake of breath, and she knew he didn’t mean her mouth or her hands. He meant he could feel the fire roaring through her. A fire that couldn’t be quenched or drowned. A fire that could only be stopped with matching flames.
Mads jerked her from him and lifted her like she weighed no more than a doll, carrying her the short distance to his desk. She spread out over the wide, smooth mahogany expanse and drew him as close as she could.
“I want to see.”
“What do you want to see, mein Schatz?” He leaned in close, his mouth moving over hers.
“My dragon.”
She felt his smile and then his broad wings filled her vision. They were still wounded from battle, but not truly damaged, and they were still majestic. She felt his shaft against her thigh, moving up her leg, and she unconsciously moved toward him, rocking closer. She knew she could never take his full length, but her pussy was so wet, quivering and ready that she didn’t stop the tip from sliding between her lips.
“My dragon,” she said between gritted teeth, thrusting her hips forward and impaling herself.
First, there was the sensation of stretching, a low burn that was only chased away by the other, immediate sense of relief. She bent her knees, bracing the bottom of her feet against the desk and thrust forward, claiming even more of him between her legs. It was too much but just enough, just right, and it felt so good, like she could never survive it and she could never get enough of it. Her body was made for his, and soon there was no twinge of pain, nothing to match the explosive pleasure she felt with every long, slow rock of her hips.
He was hers. Nothing, not even death, could claim him. He was hers to claim, take, and have. She didn’t know how to understand her new identity, what it meant to her and how it might change her, but she did understand this. The balance they found between them, the sense of the completion of one whole from two halves.
April’s body was fully unleashed, unlocked, unhindered. Wave after wave of pleasure rolled through her, finite and dazzling. She knew there was something more, though. A final release that she couldn’t quite conceptualize but she still raced towards. Her blood boiled and her skin pulled tight and she thought she might be on fire. She might have created actual sparks between their bodies and was being consumed by a glorious, merry haze. Eyes unseeing, she reached for him, fingers running over scales and talons and then his hands closed around hers.
Her eyes focused just as Mads thrust into her raw body, his velvety smooth shaft filling her to the hilt. His eyes were green when they met hers—no sign of the dragon at all. The moment between the gorgon and her dragon gave way to the touching of man and woman. She saw herself reflected in his eyes—beyond that, she saw a rev
erence she’d never experienced before. Wrapping herself around him, she pulled even closer, as close as she could, and buried her face in his neck as the final lightning bolt reverberated through her. She clenched down on him, holding him deep while she rode out the final crests of pleasure.
“Oh April…oh my sweet.” She felt him tense and tremble, felt the moment of his release like another shockwave through her. She shivered and jerked her hips, every incidental moment of contact an overload to her system.
50
Mads had been in possession of Dracheschloss for centuries, but it had been decades since he spent so much time there. Once the world rushed into modernity, with all its attendant comforts, Mads built himself a new empire of glass and steel, and a new throne, high on top of the world. And though he still could see the people scurrying like ants, he lived among them, enclosed by their laws and boundaries, surrounded by their humanity. He’d been content.
But with April secure in his arms, he felt free.
The castle was hers now. Perhaps it had always been. Perhaps he had conquered it not for glory, but so he could provide his mate with her own sanctuary. Perhaps she herself had claimed it from the moment the first stone was laid. She wore the face of a young woman, but Mads now believed her life began more than twenty-six years ago.
He gazed down at her, making a loving note of her slightly crooked nose, the little quirk of her lips, the dimple in her chin, the shape of her eyebrows, the flush of pink across her cheeks. She was an angel now, peaceful and sweet; nothing like the woman he’d seen in his library. The woman who had staked her claim on him and branded him for life. She had been living fire, writhing and welcoming. The heat from her body had been so overwhelming that for the first time, he hadn’t felt the fire burning him from the inside out.
She’d been so hot he now had a ring around the base of his cock—a slightly red circle to match the mark on her thigh.
