Cimmerian Shade: A Limited Edition Paranormal Romance & Urban Fantasy Collection

by Kiki Howell

  I might like her.

  WATER BOILED ON THE stove. Torren broke spaghetti noodles in half and threw them into the pot until there was enough for two people. Night had graced the day and his kitchen was illuminated in LED lights, conserving energy. The tomatoes he’d put in the sauce were from his personal garden. Like the rest of his Theron clan members, Torren sought to maintain a balance of earthen energies. He stirred the meat, added oregano, and pulled bay leaves out of the cupboard to add to the noodle water.

  Dovie’s hushed voice filtered into the kitchen. “I’ll call you back later.”

  She shuffled into the room. Torren glanced over his shoulder to acknowledge her presence. She set her phone on the island and pulled up a stool to sit. The collar of her shirt fell off one shoulder and Torren swallowed. He could only imagine how her skin would taste, how she might purr if his tongue licked along the soft-looking skin.

  “What’s for dinner? Oh wait, I have to make my own, don’t I? How long until you’re done?” Her words came out beaten and he turned away. Not exactly the impression he’d wanted to make. He internally cringed. He’d made her feel that way.

  “Spaghetti. And I’m making enough for you.” He stirred the noodles. He didn’t have a plan of action to interact with her, despite how many times he’d repeated questions in his head. And he couldn’t rely on physical flirtation as he would most females because that would lead them down the path of bonding.

  “What’s the occasion?” she asked. There was a note of skepticism in her voice.

  “I haven’t been very nice to you.” He took the spatula and started crunching the meat into smaller bits. “I do want to get to know you. I just have so much at stake in the Draconic Challenge. I took my frustrations out on you.” He turned to her. “I’m sorry.”

  Dovie blinked.

  The meat sizzled in the pan.

  He attempted to avoid looking at her bare shoulder, meeting her gaze instead.

  “Um. Apology accepted.” She raised an eyebrow.

  Satisfied he’d done what he could to salvage the evening, Torren turned back to dinner with every intention of scouring the image of that bare shoulder from his mind.

  Chapter Ten

  AWKWARD SILENCE FILLED the room until Dovie slurped the delicious noodle into her mouth. “This is really good,” she said between bites, covering her mouth as she spoke. She didn’t know why it bothered her, but despite his jerkdom, she did want him to like her.

  “Thank you.” He carefully rolled his noodles with his fork and spoon before taking a bite. Dovie hadn’t pictured him as a careful eater. He looked more like the kind of guy who would slurp a beer and then tear into a steak and potatoes at the end of a long work day. She hadn’t expected a dragon who could cook and well, had manners, despite the wrong foot they’d started on. He wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Something wrong? You’re staring again. I wore a shirt this time.”

  Dovie chuckled. “But I like looking at you without your shirt on.” She winked, trying to keep everything light between them. “It doesn’t make me uncomfortable, moon dragon. It turns me on.” She downed another forkful of spaghetti, then used the napkin to wipe some sauce from her chin. Torren’s gaze held nothing but slight curiosity. He seemed to be studying how she ate. Dovie swallowed, drank some water, and said, “Now you’re staring.”

  A full-blown smile broke out across his face, reaching his eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head.” He took a drink of his water. “Humans are a curiosity of sorts to me.”

  Crickets sang in the darkness outside, their songs floating in from an open window. “Well I can be an open book. What are you curious about? And why so curious anyway? Dragons mate with humans, right?”

  “They do, but I don’t know many humans personally.”

  “What about your parents? Was one of them human?” Dovie slipped another bite into her mouth, licking the sauce from the fork.

  His eyes slitted. “Dragons live longer than humans in general. We are not immortal, but my mom died many years ago, before I had the chance to get to know her, and yes, she was a human. I was a dragonling, learning my first credence when she grew ill and passed. My father was never the same. He spent more time working than raising me. Not that I blame him. I wouldn’t have this house without him working for it. But love split my family apart.” Torren had a sad look on his face, but moments later it was gone. “Family is just another word for pain."

  A twinge of kinship grew inside her. She'd thought dragon families stayed together, and here Torren was admitting dragons were very similar to humans when relationships and family were involved. Her heart turned over. “I’m sorry for your loss.” Death wasn’t an easy subject, and Dovie never really knew what to say to people who’d lost loved ones. It seemed everyone always claimed they were sorry, even when they didn’t know the person, and why apologize if it wasn’t their fault? But what else could she say? Hurt flashed momentarily in his champagne eyes, and then he masked it.

  “What about your family?” Torren dug back into his food.

  “Not really much to tell. I’m an orphan.” Dovie shrugged. She wanted him to believe it didn’t affect her after all this time, but her past haunted her. She would never know who her parents were or why they had abandoned her. She’d made peace with that but it didn’t hurt any less.

  “Sounds like a lot,” he said between bites. He took a swig of water and asked, “Earlier you wanted to know what there was to do around here. It might work out better if I know what you are interested in.”

  Dovie let him change the subject and scraped the rest of the spaghetti onto her fork, slipping the last bit into her mouth. Where had he learned to cook so well? She swallowed, wondering if all dragons were great cooks. “Books, of course, and I quill.” She ran a tongue along her teeth and sucked down the last of her water.

  "Quill?"

  “Paper crafting. As in twirling paper into designs. And rebinding old books,” Dovie said. Torren stood and she followed, taking their dishes to the kitchen sink. She sidestepped him when he got too close, her skin instantly heating at his nearness. “Careful not to touch me, dragon.” She put her plate and glass in the sink. He grunted but moved to the island to give her room. “So you ever want to try it?”

  “Touching you?”

  Dovie busted out laughing. “No, silly. Recovering books or quilling.”

  “That depends on if you’ll start calling me ‘Torren’ instead of ‘dragon.’”

  Heat seared her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I should have been a bit more sensitive. Are you interested in trying my hobbies, Torren?” She rinsed off the dishes. How could she have been so insensitive and here she had blamed him for being a jerk. She wasn't much better.

  “I’ll try anything once.”

  Dovie smiled, and a giddy sensation swirled in her stomach. He was willing to try something she enjoyed. It shouldn’t be that important to her, but it made her night, even though he was just doing it out of guilt. She couldn’t wait to show him. “Be right back.” Dovie headed to her room and pulled her quilling materials out of her bag. She rushed back to the kitchen, beckoning Torren to the dining room table.

  “Somehow I thought there would be more stuff.” Torren pointed at the small clear box with her tools and glue in it.

  “That’s one of the great things about quilling: easy to take with me.” She pulled strips of paper she’d cut a while back out of her box. “You will be so surprised by how easy this is.”

  Torren watched as Dovie pulled out her needle, slotted tool, and glue and set them to the side. She had been working in blues for her current project, so all of her paper strips were variations of blue.

  “Are you working on something special?” Torren asked.

  “Actually, I’m on a blue dragon with spiraled horns. I’m using every blue paper I have in all different shades to make the scales.”

  “All right, what do I need to do?” Torren stood beside her.

  The heat from his body wa
s a distraction. She licked her lips and concentrated on teaching. . . keeping her hands busy so she wouldn’t touch him. They were trying to get to know each other. She wouldn’t ruin it by automatically resorting to sexual temptation, no matter how much her body thought otherwise. “You take a strip of paper in the size of your choice and start rolling. I prefer to use this slotted tool to roll my paper.” The tool looked similar to a needle but had a slot instead of an eye. “You just add the end into the slot and evenly apply pressure to roll the paper into a spiral. Slip it off, and then. . .” She opened the glue. “You add glue to the very end to hold it in place.” She set the final spiral down on the table. “If you want to make a different shape like a tear drop, you pinch one end, and poof!” She pinched the end and showed Torren the tear drop, its interior still spiraled.

  “Looks easy enough.” Torren grabbed a slip of paper, put it in the slotted tool, and rolled. He did exactly as Dovie had. “And then if I want a different shape I pinch until I have it?” His tongue darted out of his mouth as he concentrated on the delicate paper in his strong hands, pinching two sides to create an eye shape. He frowned. “Very simplistic.”

  “That’s the beauty of it.” Dovie didn’t think he’d enjoyed quilling so far, but he was being a good sport.

  “An eye, so we can both stop staring.” Torren looked up, meeting her gaze. The world tilted and Dovie looked away. Every impulse inside her wanted to climb on top of Torren and take him for a ride.

  Dovie licked her lips. “Why do you resist the pull between us? Am I really that awful?”

  Chapter Eleven

  THE LOOK IN Dovie’s eye nearly undid Torren. She was vulnerable, putting herself out there and at the same time hurt at his previous rejections. The shirt slipped off her shoulder and within seconds he closed the inches between them. He needed to feel her. His scales rippled beneath his skin, heat coming off both of them in waves. He put his hands on either side of her face and pulled her in, her mouth forming an O as pleasure assailed her body from his mere touch. He had every intention of capturing that orgasm with his mouth. Damn her seductive shoulder.

  She moaned as he took her lips with his, darting his tongue in to taste her. Warmth surrounded him as he held her captive with his kiss. Her lips soft, pliable. Her moans consumed between them. His cock sprang to full attention and he ground his hard need into her as she writhed in his grasp. He wanted to be inside her, to cover every inch of her soft body with his, to move with her as they each found release. To catch each one of her orgasms

  He jerked back.

  No. No. He did not want the bond.

  “I’m sorry.” He let go as fast as he could, surprised by his actions, and she fell to her knees, spasming in bliss. It took everything he had not to fall to the floor and take her, over and over again until her eyes rolled to the back of her head and he was spent. His scales breached the surface and he forced himself to step back as Dovie gasped, holding herself up with her hands.

  “You’re sorry? Jesus, Torren. How could it be that intense?” Her words were husky. Her honey-brown hair covered her face. He needed to wrap her mane around his fingers. To pull it from her face.

  “I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t want a mate.” He rubbed his throbbing cock through his shorts, trying to ease some of the pulsing need. Her back arched, and suddenly he wanted to take her from behind. His balls tightened. “Forgive me. I can’t. . .” He tried to swallow his desire as she stood, sweat glistening on her exposed shoulder and face. “I can’t have you.”

  “Why the fuck not?” Her hands balled into fists. Her cheeks red, her eyes blazed with want or anger, he wasn’t sure which.

  “Believe me, Duv, my body wants you like I have not wanted a female in a long time. But I can’t have this. Not with so much on the line.” He closed his eyes, mentally pouring ice water down his pants. He needed to curb this before it got out of hand. Being near her was making it worse. Torren took a deep breath and then met her hurt look. “If I take you, everything I want, the one thing I have worked for most of my life, will be gone from my grasp.” He moved back into the kitchen one slow step at a time. He just needed to put space between them.

  “And why can’t you have both?”

  “Because an Ancients’ apprenticeship means more to me. Bonding would mean family, and family is not happening. I can’t be an apprentice and then an Ancient if I have a family. Let me rephrase. I won’t.” He didn’t give her time to talk him out of it. He turned and headed straight for the front door. He needed some serious fresh air and to be as far from her as he could get without harming her. His scales were still lifted along his wrists and popping up in patches all over his body, including his face. They both had been abandoned, even though his father was still around, he was cold toward Torren. That wasn't a family he wanted.

  Cool air breezed along his heated skin, refreshing his thoughts. He took a deep breath and exhaled, trying to alleviate the stress of his situation. He was more angry with himself than anything, because he liked her, wanted her, and damn the stars, he could picture having more with her. If she had been a horrible person to be around, this wouldn’t be a fucking problem. No, she had to be smart and pretty and mess with his plans. He scrubbed his fingers through his hair and down his face as he walked along the path around the house. He knew the worn area well, having walked it many times to cool off. The only difference tonight was the female waiting for him inside.

  He didn’t have a clue what all this would actually do to her, only that each time he touched her, the desire worsened for her to be with him and him with her. Magic was a bitch that way, and until they were detached, not a damn thing would work in his favor. The moon phase, the attachment, and his own dragon magic all conspired to ensure he failed.

  Torren kicked a stray rock and circled the house again. He couldn’t be far from her or he’d risk hurting her. The choices were miserable and he wasn’t the kind of male to make someone suffer. She would be hurt though if he didn’t start minimizing contact. At the same time he wanted to be closer to her. He could show her his magic, let her see what he did, and then maybe she would understand why being an apprentice was right for him. He learned quickly and enjoyed it.

  He wandered out into the cool grass away from the lights of the house and looked up at the stars. They twinkled as if everything was right in the world, so distant from all his troubles. As an Ancient, he’d no longer have to worry about his personal life; his sole purpose would be to serve the dragon horde, protecting and teaching the race. Ever since he was a boy, he’d wanted to live in the Never Caves, far from frail human mothers and distant, cool fathers. He was sure it was his calling and he couldn’t let a female or his own damn hormones jeopardize his goal or his heart.

  He’d steer clear of her, sit as far from her as possible, spend more time working with his magics and credence scroll in order to preserve himself. He didn’t have to stay away from her; he could let her see the magical side of him. He just needed to maintain a safe distance. Torren rubbed the back of his neck, the scales beneath his hairline moving with his hand, and he headed toward the house. He slipped inside, closing the door softly, hoping she wouldn’t notice. He walked into the dining room and through the kitchen, but he didn’t see Dovie anywhere. Probably for the best. He grabbed his bedding from the couch. He’d take it into his meditation room and sleep there at night. An extra precaution, since she was likely feeling some serious effects from the attachment. His hard-on sprang back to life at the image of her writhing before him. He closed the door to his room, determined to be rid of his aching need.

  Chapter Twelve

  DOVIE RUBBED THE sleep from her eyes. Day three with a dragon who didn’t want her. Her body had ached with need ever since last night. She’d orgasmed multiple times to get rid of the need on her own, but it just continued. Every part of her body wanted to be touched. She’d shut herself in the bedroom and refused to come out. But now that the sun had graced her with its presence, she sti
ll wasn’t sure she could face him again and not touch him.

  A knock sounded at the door, followed by Torren’s voice. “It’s after noon, Duv. Time to wake. When you’re dressed come to my meditation room. I want to show you what I do.”

  Her heart stuttered. “I’ll be right there.” She nearly fell out of bed in her rush to put clothes on. Holy crap, she’d slept the entire morning! Then his words hit her. . . Maybe he did want to be around her. Had their time together last night, even though he’d walked away, led him to believe they could have more? Dovie was out the door and at his meditation room within minutes of his announcement. His door was wide open.

  Torren sat cross-legged on the floor, the book from her shop in his lap. Plants decorated the room. She tentatively walked in and he stopped her with his hand out.

  “I’m going to be practicing my credence. You can’t be overly close. Sit by the door. Right there is fine, if you want.”

  “Okay. Will it hurt me or something?” Dovie plopped on the floor, her previous elation drained since she couldn’t go to him, be closer to him, touch him.

  “No, but I can’t concentrate with you right next to me, honestly. The attachment is affecting me too. Again, I’m sorry about last night.” His eyes slitted and returned to normal before he looked away.

  Dovie ran her fingers through her hair. She didn’t quite understand why he wanted her here if he didn’t want her near him still. But she was thankful he allowed it regardless. She didn’t need to know the answer, only that he seemed to be trying. “I’ll get over it.” She grinned.

  “I’ve never had anyone else in this room before.” Torren put his palms up on his crossed legs as if he was actually going to meditate. His bare chest called to her. All those muscles begged to be touched.