Dragon's Hoard

by M. A. Church

  Pulling his cell of his pocket, he checked the time. Aggravated, he dropped the phone on the bed. There were hours before the meeting was scheduled to take place. Dammit, he was bored. He paced around his room, getting more restless with every passing second.

  Screw this. Maybe a good run would clear his head. He opened his bedroom window, then stripped. Leaving his clothes where they fell, he cleared his mind. Crouching, hands resting upon the cold hardwood floor, he closed his eyes and called forth the other side of his nature.

  The predictable roaring in his head started. Reality as he knew it faded. All his senses were disabled, and his mind emptied as he shifted. The change from human to animal briefly left him unanchored as he moved from one conscious to another. Werewolves were most vulnerable for that brief heartbeat of time.

  There was no pain, no loud pops or the uncomfortable sound of bones breaking. He’d seen other wolves shift, and it was nothing more than a blurring of whatever form they inhabited. One second a human stood there, and then the next there was a wolf. It was simple and fast.

  Joy spread through him once the shift finished. Paws replaced hands and feet. Fur replaced human skin. Yipping, he danced in place as he shook out his fur. Oh. Oh, so nice. He loved being in his wolf form. Everything was so much clearer, brighter.

  He could smell whatever was used to polish the hardwood floors in his room. A variety of scents assaulted him—the fabric softener the servants used when drying his clothes, his deodorant—and the cool, crisp air called to him from the opened window. He raced toward the window, but a pile of clothes on the floor caught his attention.

  A pile!

  Changing directions, he ran straight for them instead. Claws clicking on the hardwood, he tried to stop but was unable to get traction. He slid into the pile and, ecstatic, rolled around. His muzzle grasped stiff denim, and he flopped over onto his back.

  With a toss of his head, he threw the denim into the air. His back legs kicked, and he barked happily when the jeans fell across him, covering his face. A sharp voice in his mind reminded him he was particularly fond of those jeans, so mauling was obviously out, although the temptation was great.

  Rolling into a sitting position, tail thumping, he threw the jeans up one last time. Silly human didn’t know how to have fun. They fluttered to the ground and didn’t move. Dropping the front part of his body down, ass up in the air, he barked.

  The stupid things just lay there, unfortunately. He wanted to chase something. Disappointed—he really wanted to chase something—he turned his attention back to the open window. He needed to be out there in the open. Four walls and hardwood floors were no place for him.

  As he bounded across the room, a flash of white caught his eye. He slid to a stop again. A silvery white wolf stared back at him. He lifted his lip, flashing a fang. He hated that white coat—hated being different. Maybe he could find a mudhole to roll around in. The human side of his nature cringed, but he shushed it. At least then he’d look somewhat like the other werewolves for a short time.

  Turning his back on the reflection, he stuck his tail up clearly, showing what he thought about the color of his coat. Since there wasn’t anything he could do about it, he leaped through the window and landed on the roof.

  He sidled down, then jumped to the ground. It was a three-story house, but the distance was nothing for their kind. Once he had his paws on Mother Earth, he took off, running full-out. Their house was set on fifty acres of forested land, which his father had insisted be left wild, and Avery was glad of that.

  A cool breeze whistled through the trees, but the sun was out and beating down. He ran, paws striking the ground in concert. The cold was bracing, and his spirits soared as he dashed into the woods. Leafless trees stood guard as he darted in and out.

  Above him, birds sang. Heart thumping, he pushed his body as hard as he could. Prey animals scurried out of his way, not that he was interested in eating them. But chasing? That was a whole other matter. Something caught his attention and he veered to the right, body moving smoothly and ears alert. A rabbit. It was a rabbit!

  The thrill of the chase motivated him as the long, furry creature zipped and zagged out in front of him in an effort to get away. Excited, he followed. They ran through the woods, Avery making a conscious effort not to overpower the rabbit. He didn’t want to kill it, only play with it. It darted off to the left, changing its trajectory, the smart little bugger. Avery followed.

  Delightedly, he laughed, although it sounded more like a rolling growl. He was almost close enough to nudge it with his nose when his paws slipped on the decaying leaves and flew out from under him. Down Avery went, tumbling over and over. Panting, he lay there. He yipped at the escaping rabbit, letting it know it won that round.

  He dropped his head to his paws, his heart racing. Something smelled good, and he nosed around the leaves. Overcome with the scent, he couldn’t resist the urge to roll around. Back legs kicking, he wallowed.

  Hopping up, he pranced around, tail wagging. Oh, what the heck, once wasn’t enough. He flopped back down and rolled around in the dead leaves again for good measure. Finally he grew still, head once more lying on his paws.

  That was fun.

  He rested, letting his mind wander. Soon he’d have to return to the pack house, but not yet. Thirsty, he rose and trotted off toward a nearby stream. Before he drew close enough to drink, he scanned the surrounding area. Although he was a predator, he was by no means the biggest one around.

  Since this was pack lands, there shouldn’t be other shifters, but other things were in the forest with fangs and claws. Once he was assured he was the biggest threat, he moseyed over to the bank and, lowering his head, drank his fill.

  For the next few hours, he explored the forest. Eventually the internal clock in his head warned him time was running out. With a quick glance toward the skies, he calculated the time. As much as he hated leaving the delights the forest offered, he had to. Slowly he made his way back toward the pack house, tail drooping.

  Not in the mood to deal with other pack members, he slunk toward the house, and with nimble leaps, jumped from balcony to balcony until he reached the roof. Good thing werewolves were strong. Picking his way across the roof, he returned to his bedroom window and jumped inside. He plopped down on his butt and cleared his mind, calling forth the human side of his nature.

  Seconds later he rose smoothly from a crouching position. “Ugh. What the hell did I roll around in?” Damn wolf.

  After a quick check of the time, he walked to his attached bathroom and showered. When he was finished, he wrapped the towel around his waist and dried his hair. That done, he stood in front of his closet, debating what to wear. If left up to him, he would show up in jeans and a T-shirt. It would almost be worth seeing the horrified look on his mother’s face. Deciding not to tempt fate, he slipped on a pair of khaki pants and a nice button-down shirt. Sliding his feet into loafers, he hurried downstairs. He arrived at his father’s office door a few minutes before three o’clock. He knocked, and once his father called for him to enter, he opened the door and walked in.

  Alpha Montgomery made a point of checking his wristwatch. “I was wondering if you were going to be here on time.”

  “Sorry.” Avery shrugged. “I went for a run.”

  Alpha Montgomery nodded. “Well, have a seat. Warwick should be here momentarily.”

  Still not in a mood to talk, Avery nodded and pulled his cell phone out to check his Facebook account. His father must’ve gotten the hint, because he returned to staring at whatever was on his desktop screen.

  Somewhere in the house, the grandfather clock chimed out the hour. Before it finished striking three o’clock, Avery snapped his head up. There was that damn scent again—that same dark and delicious fragrance he’d noticed the night before. Now that he was a little more clearheaded, he was finally able to pin down what it smelled like—chocolate. It reminded him of the decadent chocolates his mother bought from overseas.


  His mouth watered from the yummy, hot, chocolate aroma. He loved the treat, loved the rich creaminess and the smooth, silken texture as it melted on his tongue. But it didn’t usually make his cock hard, and the damn thing was standing up at attention.

  His heart gave a hard thump, then a flutter. Its pace picked up, the nearer the smell came. Trying to ignore the frantic beating in his chest, he focused on the steady tread of footsteps coming closer.

  Did his father not notice it? Or was it just him? Fuck, is this what mated couples talk about when they refer to a compelling scent? Any questions he might have had last night about what that scent was to him were now answered. He didn’t know whether to howl happily or run from the room.

  The damn dragon was his mate, no question about it—not if everything he’d always heard was correct. Slowly he turned in his seat to stare at the door. The fluttering in his chest increased at his mate’s authoritative knock.

  Alpha Montgomery looked up. He sniffed, then wiped all emotions off his face. “Come in.”

  The door handle turned inch by agonizing inch. Avery’s breath tangled in his chest. Oh gods, open the damn door already! That fluttering in his chest turned into a relentless beat. He clenched the chair arms as he watched, breathless, as the knob turned.

  Chapter Six

  WARWICK opened the door and stepped into the office. After he shrugged off his coat, he folded it over his arm. He hadn’t been sure what to expect when he arrived, but the hazel-eyed Omega staring at him defiantly hadn’t been it.

  What a lovely color those eyes were—more golden than green. Odd color for a werewolf, though, but what did he know? He didn’t know that much about the inner workings of a werewolf pack either, but he’d heard Omegas were… well, submissive wasn’t exactly the word he was looking for. Maybe passive was a better description, although the heated glance from his soon-to-be mate didn’t fall into that category. He also wasn’t expecting the scent of desire in the air that, if he wasn’t mistaken, came from Avery.

  Alpha Montgomery rose from behind his desk. “Welcome. Please have a seat. Would you like anything to drink?”

  “No, thank you.” Did Alpha Montgomery really think this was a social call?

  Warwick walked farther into the office and seated himself next to Avery. Clarence stripped out of his coat, folded it over his arm too, and stood behind Warwick’s chair.

  Alpha Montgomery resumed his seat. “Well, then, let’s—”

  “A moment, Alpha Montgomery.” Warwick turned in his seat so he faced Avery, pleased by the arousal he smelled from him. “I’m sorry to be meeting you under such circumstances. As you’ve probably been told, my name is Warwick Ehecatl. If it’s acceptable, I’d like to spend some time with you… privately.”

  Avery blinked. “Right now? I mean, I thought you were here to conduct business.”

  “You are more important.” Warwick watched surprise flit across Avery’s face. Obviously he hadn’t been expecting that. “Except for signing the papers, your father and I have concluded our business. That can wait. At the moment I am more concerned with you.”

  Avery opened his mouth, then shut it. He shook his head slightly, as if trying to clear it. “I… I, ah….” Avery looked to his father.

  Oh, Warwick wanted to nip that in the bud quickly. “No. You no longer have to be concerned about pleasing him.”

  Avery jerked his attention back to Warwick and raised an eyebrow. “Oh? So does that mean I now have to be concerned with pleasing you?”

  Interesting. Maybe it was time to reevaluate those preconceived notions he had about Omegas. But then again, maybe it was Avery he needed to reassess. It was a fascinating dilemma, and there was nothing dragons loved more than solving a puzzle.

  “As my mate, I would hope you’d want to please me, yes. But that does not mean I expect you to walk on eggshells, as, I’m sure, you have learned to do with your father.”

  Alpha Montgomery huffed. “Now, wait a minute—”

  “My father is an Alpha. He’s owed respect,” Avery reminded Warwick.

  “There’s a difference between owing respect and earning it.” Warwick was pleased to see another quick flash of surprise in Avery’s eyes. How very expressive they were. “I sincerely hope you’ll give me the chance.”

  Avery blinked. Then a slow smile spread across his face.

  That was good enough for Warwick. He turned back to Alpha Montgomery. “All that’s needed is your signature and, no, nothing will be changed, so don’t bother asking.”

  “I—”

  “Your son and I are going to spend some time together.” Warwick glanced at Avery. “Is there somewhere we can talk privately?”

  Avery snorted. “I don’t know about dragon hearing, but werewolves can hear a pin drop half a mile away. Okay, I’m exaggerating, but if you want privacy, I suggest we walk down to a park not far from the pack house.”

  “Sounds perfect.” Well, except for having to go outside, but sometimes sacrifices were required. Warwick stood and waited until Avery joined him. He motioned for Avery to precede him, then stopped. “Avery?”

  Avery glanced over his shoulder at Warwick. “Yes?”

  “I’m not comfortable leaving Clarence here in a house full of wolves. Would you mind if he comes with us? He doesn’t have paranormal hearing.”

  Clarence smiled. “I hear about as well as any regular human. I’m sure I can find something to keep me occupied.”

  Alpha Montgomery bristled. “Are you implying your clerk wouldn’t be safe with us?”

  “Implying? No. I thought it was pretty clear. No way would I leave Clarence here unprotected until we’ve signed the papers,” Warwick said. “He’s been with me for a long time. I’d hate to have to wipe out a whole pack because something untoward happened to him.”

  With a small amount of pressure to Avery’s back, Warwick ushered him out of Alpha Montgomery’s office once he was satisfied he’d made his point. Avery tensed but didn’t say anything, so Warwick left his hand where it was. Even through his shirt, Avery’s warmth was noticeable.

  Warwick’s chilled fingers quickly warmed. He and Clarence trailed behind Avery to the front entrance—where Avery made a quick stop to grab his jacket—then followed him outside. An icy breeze teased Warwick’s hair, and he quickly bundled up. Damn cold weather.

  Warwick stopped outside of the pack house by the limousine he’d taken there. In a smooth move, if he did say so himself, Warwick removed his hand from Avery’s back and grasped his hand. So what if his fingers brushed across the top of Avery’s ass? And from the quick feel he had, it appeared to be a spectacular ass too.

  The look Avery flashed in his direction let Warwick know Avery was fully aware of what he’d done. At least Avery hadn’t tried to punch him. It was a promising start.

  “Avery? I would like to introduce my clerk, Clarence Wiltshire,” Warwick said. “Clarence? This is the Omega Avery Montgomery, my mate.”

  Clarence held out his hand. “Nice to finally meet you.”

  Slowly Avery shook Clarence’s hand. “Nice to meet you too.”

  “Which way?” Warwick asked, wrapping his scarf around his throat.

  Avery pointed to the right, and the three of them started down the sidewalk. Several minutes passed in silence. Once they were a nice distance from the pack house, Clarence loosened up enough to shake his head. “So, are we far enough away yet?”

  Avery glanced at Clarence, then back at the pack house. “Yeah, we should be.”

  Clarence finally rolled his eyes. “I swear, Warwick, do you purposely stir up trouble or is it just second nature?”

  “What do you mean?” Warwick asked, caught off guard since he’d been busy staring at Avery’s ass.

  Clarence smirked. “You basically threatened to wipe out his entire pack if someone so much as upset me.”

  Warwick was pretty sure the smirk was because Clarence caught him ogling. “I wasn’t serious. Besides, it would upset Avery.”
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br />   “You could say that,” Avery said.

  “Also didn’t figure you would be comfortable there alone,” Warwick said Clarence.

  Avery shook his head. “Couldn’t you have just invited him without the threat?”

  “Where’s the fun in that?” Warwick shrugged. “Well, to be fair, I wouldn’t kill anyone just because they upset my clerk, but they don’t have to know that. Now you? That’s a different matter.”

  “Good to know. Anyway, the park is right over there,” Avery said, pointing. “There’s a bench not far from the entrance. It’s a lovely place I like to go when I need a few minutes alone.”

  “Excellent,” Warwick said, pulling his coat tighter as the three of them entered the park. He followed Avery to the bench, and with a quick nod, Clarence wandered off. For once, Warwick found himself at a loss for words. There were so many things he wanted to say, and he didn’t know where to begin.

  Avery sat, then tugged up the collar of his coat. “Okay, I’m going to throw this out there. Who is Clarence to you?”

  Well, of all the things Warwick had expected, that question hadn’t crossed his mind. “Clarence? He’s my clerk.”

  “And?”

  Ah, now he saw. Could Avery be jealous? That was even more promising. “That’s all. If you’re asking me if there’s anything other than friendship between us, the answer is no. Never has been, never will be. Clarence is straight.”

  “Oh. Okay, then.” Avery crossed his legs, then uncrossed them. His gave bounced around the park before coming back to rest on Warwick. “It’s just… the two of you seem to be very friendly.”

  “He works for me, and has for a long time, but he’s also a good friend. I trust him, and there’s not many I can say that about.”

  Avery fiddled with the crease on his perfectly ironed khaki pants. “Maybe I was out of line—”

  “No.” Warwick laid his hand on top of Avery’s. “You’re not out of line. You may ask me anything you want, but there are some things I’d prefer to discuss in a less open environment, if you don’t mind.”