Eternal Embers

by Tessa Adams

  “Getting annoyed.” She yanked harder, until he finally relinquished her hand. “And that doesn’t tell me much.”

  “I didn’t realize it was supposed to.” He lifted one eyebrow in challenge and her dragon shifted uncomfortably inside of her, even whined a little. It remembered the pleasure Matthew had once brought her, pleasure the likes of which she hadn’t felt since, and it wanted more. The hussy.

  Caitlyn, are you all right? It was Logan again. We’re almost there.

  Her dragon snarled, lunged, but Caitlyn was expecting it this time and knocked it back again. I’m fine.

  She turned back to Matthew, watched as his smile faded. She had the uncomfortable feeling that he could read her mind—or at least hear Logan talking to her. A feeling that was reinforced when he said, “Time for me to go, huh?”

  “No!” The word burst from her, and she didn’t know if it was her talking or her dragon. Or worse, if it was both of them.

  He smirked. “Well, that sounded emphatic.”

  Heat stung her cheeks, again, but she ignored it, did her best to inject as much hard-ass as she could into her voice. “This is private property. I need to know who you are and what you’re doing out here.”

  “You think you can just hand some money to the New Mexico government and these caves suddenly become yours?” he asked, an amused edge to his voice.

  “That’s usually how it works, yes.”

  “This land belonged to someone else long before it belonged to your dragon king.”

  A frisson of fear worked its way down her spine at the easy way he had twice now referred to dragons. “Who are you?” she demanded again.

  He grew serious. “No one you need to worry about. I’m just looking for something out here. As soon as I find it, I’ll get out of your hair.” Reaching out, he stroked an errant strand of hair out of her face. She had to fight not to shiver at the contact. Before she could respond, he glanced over her shoulder. “Looks like the cavalry has arrived.”

  She followed his gaze, watched as Logan, Quinn, Shawn, Gabe and Dylan piled out of Gabe’s Range Rover. “You need to tell me exactly what you’re doing out here,” she said, turning back to face Matthew. “Or these guys will—”

  She stopped in midsentence, fury overwhelming every other emotion inside of her. Matthew was gone. And once again, she hadn’t seen it coming.

  Chapter Two

  “Hey, Cait, what’s the problem?” called Shawn as his long legs ate up the ground between them.

  She was still too busy staring at the spot where Matthew had been standing to answer him. Was she losing her mind? Caitlyn asked herself frantically. Had the pressure of being a screw-up somehow driven her totally around the bend? How else could a human—a human—just disappear from in front of her?

  “I don’t know,” she answered as the five men surrounded her. “I just—” She started to tell them what had happened, what she’d seen and what she thought Matthew had said to her, but her dragon hissed viciously inside of her. No longer lazy and curled up, it was pushing at her, pressing at her, clawing her from the inside out in an effort to make its point. The difference between her beast now and when Matthew was around was incredible, and one more thing she wanted some time to think about.

  Still, how much could she trust the beast? Usually its instincts were unimpeachable but it had failed her once before with Matthew. And then, just recently, with Callie. How could she be sure it wasn’t doing the same thing again?

  The thought pissed the creature off and it growled, low and long. She ignored it and opened her mouth to tell Shawn and the others everything. And was completely astounded when the only words that came out were, “I was heading to Dylan’s place and I was sure that I saw something moving out here near the mouth of this cave. I came up to investigate, but whatever it was, it appears to be gone.”

  What the hell, she asked herself again. What was she doing? Matthew knew about dragons, knew about Dylan. She’d already screwed her clan over once. She couldn’t do it again. But even as she told herself what she needed to do, what she had to do, she knew she wasn’t going to say anything about him. Not yet, when she still didn’t understand who he was or what he wanted.

  “You didn’t find anything?” Gabe asked. Was it her imagination or was he looking at her closely, as if waiting for her to trip up.

  “I haven’t had a chance to look around much yet,” she answered, careful not to lie—like most shifters, dragons had a tendency to smell untruths a mile away. But her deliberate skirting of the truth only made her feel lower. Bad enough her ignorance had nearly destroyed the clan, now she was keeping secrets from her king and fellow sentries? So not a good idea.

  She wanted to change her mind, to tell them everything she could about Matthew—which wasn’t much, but still. At the last second she held back. Her dragon was going crazy, demanding that she listen to it, and she hadn’t stayed alive as long as she had by ignoring her beast when it chose to talk to her. Not to mention the idea of telling them about her past with Matthew was about as appealing as a root canal. No. Better to keep quiet until she knew exactly what she was dealing with.

  Still, it was difficult, especially when Shawn slipped an arm around her shoulders and said, “Don’t worry about it. Better safe than sorry, right?”

  “Absolutely.” Gabe moved a few paces to the right, his keen dragon eyes searching the ground for clues. “Let’s take a look around, anyway.”

  “Did you find something?” Dylan asked, moving toward his second in command with the sleek grace that seemed so at odds with a man his size.

  “No. Just a feeling.” Gabe didn’t look up from the area he was scanning. “Besides, if Caitlyn thinks she saw something, that’s good enough for me.”

  The words were a slap in the face, and Caitlyn whirled on him, expecting to see the sardonic amusement the other shifter so often wore these days. She didn’t find it, only a quiet respect that she didn’t understand. Didn’t he know what she’d done? Didn’t he realize that she had betrayed her clan—not just with Callie, but here. Now. For a near-stranger whose existence she couldn’t begin to understand.

  The men spent a few more minutes poking around, satisfying themselves that Caitlyn had simply overreacted to the tension that was riding all of them especially hard these days. When they were convinced that things were fine, they headed back to the SUV, beckoning for her to join them.

  But the last thing she wanted to do was cram herself into that car with a bunch of testosterone-laden men who were too big for it anyway. Especially since her dragon wasn’t exactly on its best behavior.

  Besides, if she continued to Dylan’s lair on foot she’d buy herself more time to figure out what the hell was going on—with her dragon and with Matthew. It seemed like a good plan, at least until Dylan waved the others on their way. “I’ll walk with Caitlyn. Meet us in the War Room in forty-five minutes.”

  The other shifters nodded, and then Gabe was barreling back the way they’d come, his speed and the tires kicking up a spray of sand in his wake.

  They watched in silence as Dylan’s highest ranking council members drove away, then, as if by mutual agreement, started walking in the same direction the SUV had taken. Caitlyn kept waiting for Dylan to lambast her, to hit her with her mistakes, to fire her, but for a long time, her king didn’t say anything. Just adjusted his stride so that she could keep up with him. She was fast, but he was close to six-seven, with the long legs to prove it.

  The tension grew as they walked and Caitlyn hated every second of it. There was a time, not very long ago, that she would have relished a chance to hang with Dylan alone. He was brilliant, sarcastic and one of her closest friends. But right now it was awful as she waited for the other shoe to drop.

  Just when she couldn’t stand it any longer, just when she knew she would go crazy if something d
idn’t happen, Dylan cleared his throat and said, “Phoebe’s pregnant.”

  Of all the things Caitlyn had expected him to say, of all the words she’d thought might come out of his mouth, those two hadn’t even crossed her mind. It took her a little while to wrap her head around them—and what they meant. So much time, in fact, that Dylan glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.

  “Seriously?” she finally squeaked out.

  He nodded grimly. “Yep.”

  “Oh my God, Dylan! That’s amazing!” Forgetting herself for a second, and all the reasons she no longer had the right to be so familiar, Caitlyn launched herself at him. “Congratulations!”

  His arms came around her and he squeezed her tightly, lifting her off the ground for a second before letting go. “Thanks.”

  She looked up at his face, expecting the same thrill she felt to be reflected there. Instead there was only a grim acceptance that seemed completely out of character. “Wait a minute,” she said. “You are happy about this, aren’t you?”

  “Of course.” He forced the words out between gritted teeth as he scanned the horizon.

  “Yeah. I can tell.” She punched him in the arm, waited until he looked at her to speak. “What’s going on? We’ve been waiting for an heir for decades. This is awesome news for the clan. Not to mention the fact that you’re going to be a daddy. What is there not to be thrilled about?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the fact that the fucking Wyvernmoons are doing their damnedest to destroy us and I’ve just painted a gigantic target in the center of my mate’s back, daring them to kill her and my unborn child.”

  Horror swept through her at his words. “We won’t let that happen, Dylan. You have to know we’d all die to protect Phoebe and your child.” Unconsciously, she’d included herself in the statement. When she realized what she’d done, she backed off a little. “I mean, Paige and the guys will do anything to keep them safe.”

  He got in her face then, his swirling, silver eyes seeming to look right through her. “And what about you, Caitlyn? Don’t you include yourself in the group who will keep my mate safe?”

  “Of course. It’s just . . .”

  “Just what?” he asked impatiently. “Spit it out.”

  “I’m being stripped of rank. I understand why—of course, I do—but I don’t see how I’ll get a chance to watch out for Phoebe if I’m no longer a sentry. Of course, I’d always stand between—”

  “Stripped of rank?” Dylan looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  It was her turn to be confused. “I assumed that’s why you wanted to speak with me. To express your displeasure with my failure.” She kept the words formal, her tone excruciatingly polite.

  “Are you kidding me?” He gave a short bark of laughter that didn’t sound the least bit amused. “I wanted time to speak with you because I want to promote you, not get rid of you. You’re one of the best sentries I’ve ever had—why the hell would I want to fire you?”

  “Callie.” She wanted to say more, but she couldn’t get the words out. Hell, she could barely breathe past the sudden thickness in her throat. She’d thought she was prepared, thought she was ready for anything Dylan had to say to her. But she wasn’t ready for this. Not his praise or his acceptance. Not after what she’d done—what she’d failed to do. For a second, Matthew’s face fluttered in front of her eyes, but she beat it back ruthlessly. She would deal with him in her own time, in her own way.

  Everything about Dylan softened a little at the strangled word and he sighed heavily, even as he reached for her a second time. “Oh, Caitlyn,” he murmured softly, as if he understood all the things she didn’t know how to put into words.

  She closed her eyes at the first slide of his skin against hers. It wasn’t sexual, this feeling that welled up inside of her. Wasn’t even close to being romantic. Dylan was her king, and desperately in love with another woman, and even if he hadn’t been, she had never thought of him as anything more than a big brother.

  But the hug felt good. The close, skin-to-skin contact that she had been denying herself for days now. For the most part, dragons weren’t the most demonstrative animals—unless they were angry—but that didn’t mean they didn’t crave affection, sweetness, understanding, every once in a while. From the second she’d found out about Callie, about her own failures, she’d cut herself off from that affection. She didn’t deserve it, and even as she relished the comfort of Dylan’s arms around her, she waited for the refuge to be yanked away. Waited for him to figure out exactly what she’d done. If he didn’t understand it was her duty to explain it to him.

  “I messed up,” she said, her words muffled against his shoulder.

  He squeezed her more tightly, until it was hard to breathe. Her heart was beating a million miles a minute and she didn’t know what to do, what to say, to make up for all the mistakes she’d made.

  But as they stood there, her guilt all but overwhelming her, Dylan smoothed a hand down her hair and whispered, “You have to stop blaming yourself.”

  She heard the words, understood them and the truth that rang through them. Knew that he believed what he was saying. But he didn’t understand. He might be king, and one of the most brilliant men she’d ever met, but some things were beyond even his massive intellect. Maybe because he was king.

  She saw it every time she closed her eyes. Every time she tried to sleep or eat or think. The last bloody battle between the Wyvernmoons and Dragonstars that had left Shawn bloodied and two of the other sentries dead.

  It was her fault. All. Her. Fault. She might not have unraveled the safeguards, might not have injected innocent Dragonstars with the most horrific biological weapon they had ever seen, but she had been roommates with the woman who had. Best friends. Close enough to be mistaken for sisters.

  And she had never even seen it coming.

  Crazy, right?

  More like horrifying.

  Every time she thought about Callie and the warning signs she must have missed, guilt ripped through her. She’d let her clan down, let her king down. And now Dylan was talking promotion. Entrance into the highest, most elite section of the Dragonstar sentries and Council.

  She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, only that she kept waiting for him to say, “Gotcha.”

  A quick look up at his face told her that the thought had never occurred to him. “It’s going to be okay, Cait,” he told her in a voice that was even deeper, gruffer, than usual—as if she wasn’t the only one having trouble forming words.

  “How?” she choked out. “How is it ever going to be okay again? Lana is dead. So are Brian and Michael and Liam and God only knows how many others.”

  “Hundreds of others.” Dylan wasn’t so calm now, his voice no longer soft. “Thousands. But that doesn’t have anything to do with you. Those deaths are on my shoulders, not yours.”

  “Bullshit! They’re dead and I could have prevented it. If I had only seen . . . if I had only thought to look—”

  “So you’re psychic now?” he asked caustically.

  “No, of course not. But—”

  “But nothing. We can only do what we can do, Caitlyn. Logan is psychic and he never saw it coming—how do you think that sits with him? Quinn and Phoebe worked with Callie every day at the lab,” he continued, “and neither of them had a clue. Neither did I, and I’m king. I’m tied to each one of you, know each one of you, better than anyone else on earth. I chose her for a sentry, put her on the Council. Gave her my trust and access to places and people, to safeguards, that she never would have had otherwise.

  “Do you think I don’t wonder every night what I did wrong? How I missed it? And worse, what I did that made her turn traitor?” His hands were fisted, his eyes filled with the same torment that had her waking up screaming in the middle of
the night. “The difference is, I can’t afford to let my feelings take over. I still have a job to do and I’m going to do it. There’s no way I’m going to let Callie take that away from me. She’s already taken more than enough.”

  His words made perfect sense, and maybe there was a part of her that knew he had a point. But still—“It’s not the same.”

  “Oh, really?” Dylan lifted a brow, stared at her out of eyes that were both weary and wise. “And what makes you so much better at this job than I am? Than other dragons who are three times your age?”

  “You don’t understand.” She winced even as she said the words, knowing that she sounded like a spoiled three-year-old but unable to stop it.

  “I understand that you’ve been beating yourself up for Callie’s betrayals for days now, when you had no control over it.”

  “She killed all those people. She hurt them, infected them, on my watch. Right under my nose.”

  “Right under all of our noses. You aren’t responsible for Callie’s action. None of us are.”

  “Not even you?” she asked archly, throwing his words back in his face.

  He shook his head. “Not even me.” The words sounded rough, like he forced them out, and she figured they probably tasted even worse than they sounded. She started to shake her head, to present her case against herself one more time, when Dylan pulled back, his huge hands fastening around her upper arms, demanding her full attention.

  She met his odd silver eyes, watched as they grew darker, seemed to glow, and she knew that his dragon was close to the surface now. As was hers. She could feel it again, the roughness of its skin scratching against the inside of hers. She ignored it. She didn’t need her dragon’s protection right now. Didn’t want it after the last trick it had pulled.