Triple Talons

by Ophelia Bell

  She sighed softly, almost in resignation. There was no denying that her dragon had happily hunkered down within these feelings Veryl had awakened in her. They may not have been representative of passion, or even an intellectual connection like she’d had with her old lover, but it was something she’d been missing for a long time, and it was something she owed it to her dragon to pursue.

  The weight of that decision lifted, she dozed as the sun continued to rise and move across the room through the floor-to-ceiling windows that spanned two sides of their cabin.

  She dreamed she was in her dragon form, guarding a rocky nest within a big cave. There were four miniature versions of her lost love within the nest, each one a perfect replica of Talon, with his same red-black scales and flared brow ridges.

  But when they turned to face her, all squawking for their mother’s attention, the eyes of each one were a very different shade. One had Veryl’s unmistakable violet hue, one had silver eyes like her own, and the other two were red and blue. Yet despite the unexpected colors, the four of them together seemed to make perfect sense, as though she couldn’t have imagined anything but these exact dragons as the babies she was meant to have.

  * * *

  Sunlight streamed in from the skylight above, waking her sometime later. She threw her arm over her face and cursed.

  “When the hell did the sun get so high?”

  Veryl chuckled beside her. “It does that.” The covers rustled and the bed jostled, and a second later, she opened her eyes to see his bulky frame tilted over her, blocking the glare from above.

  “Better?” he asked, smiling down at her.

  “Yeah, thanks,” she said, her heart warming at his gesture. She eyed his muscles again, still astounded that a normal shifter like him could have the godlike physique of an arena champion. Those shifters were practically a different race, the way they focused on their physical training and their connections with their animals almost from birth. It resulted in a size and shape of man that was unparalleled. They weren’t indestructible, however, so she was glad for this normal, everyday shifter in her bed right now—a low-risk mate was what she needed.

  Veryl smirked down at her. “Please tell me you’re not thinking about how prime a stud I am and how many healthy babies you’ll conceive from my seed.”

  Her face heated. “No … I mean, not exactly. I was just wondering what you do for a living to stay so perfectly … perfect.”

  He shrugged. “Nothing special,” he said, darting his gaze out the window. “I fly a lot for work. My best friends and I are a competitive bunch, so we keep each other moving. That’s about it.”

  “How do you not want a true mate, though? I mean, you could have everything, plus kids, with a woman. Why do you want to limit yourself?”

  He hovered over her, shifting so that he was braced on one arm, still making sure to shade her from the sunlight. With his other hand, he brushed a lock of hair away from her face and looked into her eyes. “Why do you think I’m limiting myself? You’re pretty damn perfect.”

  She frowned. “You don’t know anything about me. I’m broken. I only have half a heart to give, if that. I’ve never been a mother, so I’m pretty sure that part of me is still intact, but the other part … the part that is capable of love for a mate … it didn’t exactly survive my old relationship in one piece. You’re a wonderful man. You deserve more. You should want more.”

  Veryl studied her with a grim expression as she spilled her guts, each word drawing tight the bindings around her heart, until she felt strangled from the impossibility of this idiotic plan of hers.

  “Let me ask you something,” he said. “If you could have him back … the man you lost … you’d take that chance with him, wouldn’t you?”

  “Of course I would.”

  “But what if he didn’t want what you wanted? What if even the idea of … say, having kids with him … wasn’t an option?”

  “We don’t know that. We never got a chance …”

  His face screwed up and he shook his head. “I’m not explaining this right. Fuck. Logic’s not my thing. My best friend is better at that shit.”

  Her brows twitched at the consternation on his face. He looked like he was struggling for words. “Just say what you mean.”

  “Fuck,” he muttered again, then sighed and hooked his arms around her torso, flipping them so that she was on top of him. The band of sunlight blasted across his face and he cursed, then scooted up the bed until he was leaning against the headboard with her straddling his lap.

  She gave him an expectant look but stayed silent, waiting for him to work up to whatever revelation he was about to share.

  “My friends and I are tight. We do everything together, the three of us. And I do mean everything. These are guys I’d die for, if it came to that. I … I love them. So fucking much it’s like a … a fucking itch I can’t scratch. And yeah, I love them that way too. But they’re after something different. Something I can’t give them.”

  “But …” she started to argue, and Veryl pressed his lips together, shaking his head to stall her.

  “Trust me, it’d be no different with any other woman. That’s why I think you’re perfect. You and I each have half a heart. Why not try to make each other whole?”

  “Oh, Veryl,” she said, hot tears burning at her eyelids. She cupped his face and pressed her lips to his, a soft, sweet kiss that made her dragon purr. He could be home and warmth and comfort for her, and she would relish it, but that wouldn’t do. “There’s one big difference between us.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t see it, honestly.”

  “My lover died, Veryl. The man you love … it is a man, right?”

  “Yeah … well, both of them, if I’m honest. Dez and Cato. Losing either of them would be like losing a fucking limb.”

  She nodded. “They are alive, sweetie. I can’t have Talon back, but there’s still a chance for you.”

  “Not when they won’t even give it a shot. This trip is for all three of us. One thing we all agree on is that we want families. We want to settle down. So, we hired Gerri to find us all mates. Hell, they may have even met theirs today for all I know.” He gave her an odd look, blinking at her and tilting his head.

  “What’s the matter?” she asked.

  “That name you said … Talon … That’s the name of your mate who died?”

  A lump formed in her throat, and she nodded. “He wasn’t …” She swallowed, trying to force the painful ache back down. “We were never fully mated.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring it up again. It’s just that I … I’d heard of someone with that name. Do you follow sports on Aurora?”

  Simina closed her eyes. Of course he would have heard of Talon. Her lover had been a celebrity on Aurora. And while she’d insisted on remaining in the shadows, she’d been well aware of Talon’s high profile. The entire planet knew who he was. The entire planet had mourned his death, but unlike her, they’d managed to move on when the new season began with a fresh new crop of arena champions to occupy the public’s attention.

  Opening her eyes, she braced herself and met his gaze. “I know what you’re thinking, and the answer is yes. Talon Garrick was the man I lost. I loved the Ebon Claw.”

  Veryl’s mouth fell open at the mention of Talon’s official Arena League designation. He’d been the champion of the solo bracket for the better part of a decade. Everyone knew the Ebon Claw.

  She watched him, waiting for the inevitable fan worship and steeling herself for the walls she’d be forced to put up between them, now that he knew how close she’d once been to that level of fame.

  But it didn’t happen. Instead, he just pulled her into another of his all-encompassing embraces that she was swiftly getting hooked on.

  “Fuck, Simina. I had no idea. I am so fucking sorry.”

  She soaked
up the comfort, feeling a little guilty for enjoying it so much this time, like she was indulging in a decadent sweet that she’d wind up having to work off in the gym later. “It’s all right. Veryl …” She pulled back, surprised by the raw emotion in his eyes. “Jeez, you didn’t kill him. It was over a year ago. I’m … well, obviously I’m not great, but I’m here. And honestly, there is no place I would rather be right now.”

  She cast a glance over her shoulder at the deep blue sky dotted with clouds outside their little mountaintop sanctuary. “Actually, there is one place I’d rather be. Out there in the wind. Come …”

  She hopped off the bed and shucked out of her robe, dancing backward toward the long, rail-less balcony that was more like a landing pad designed specifically with dragons in mind. She beckoned to him and he let out a laugh, bounding out of the bed and rushing toward her.

  “That’s the best idea I’ve heard all day,” he said, grabbing her outstretched hand.

  When he reached her, they both turned and ran toward the edge of the deck, hand-in-hand, not even breaking stride until they’d launched over the edge and into the air where their dragons took over.

  * * *

  “I want to meet them,” Simina said later that afternoon at the table over the smorgasbord the resort had delivered to them while bathed after their flight.

  Veryl’s brows shot up. “Who?”

  “Your friends. Dez and Cato. They obviously mean a lot to you. And … I’m curious.”

  She eyed him over the gigantic sandwich he’d built out of an assortment of meat, bread, and cheese. Her own towering lunch was more indulgent than she usually allowed herself, but it was tiny compared to his.

  He took a big bite, somehow managing to fit the entire thickness into his mouth. His brows drew together while he chewed. “Curious about what? They’re just guys.” He gave her a wary look—almost proprietary. Over them or her, she wasn’t sure.

  Simina laughed. “Not because I’m hoping for some connection with one of them. I like you. A lot. I just want to see how they are around you, that’s all. I’m pretty good at reading people, seeing the depth of a link between a shifter and his animal. Maybe I can tell if they return your feelings. If they do, there might be a chance for you with them.”

  “Really?” Veryl said, lifting a brow skeptically.

  She shrugged and focused on her food. “It’s kind of my job. I … I’m a doctor. An Arena League doctor, to be specific. It’s how Talon and I met.”

  Veryl’s brief stillness was too obvious to miss, but she feigned ignorance, silently cursing at herself for bringing Talon up again. He’d have been rolling his eyes at her for not letting it go, and she really didn’t want his memory to hang over her new relationship like a dark cloud if she wound up pursuing this all the way.

  But she also didn’t want Veryl to have to compromise with her if he didn’t have to. If she could just see him with his friends … these two men he seemed so lovelorn over that he’d settle for an emotionally broken woman like her to have a family with … If she could see how they were together, perhaps she could help him, help them find their way to each other.

  “I don’t think there’s a fix for us,” Veryl finally said, setting his monolithic sandwich down. “It isn’t like there’s just some herbal remedy or new diet we can try to make them want a relationship. These guys are kind of all or nothing. I thought I was too, until I met you.”

  “So you’d all rather have nothing than each other? That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. And to answer your question from earlier, if Talon were alive and we couldn’t have kids for some reason, I’d fucking deal with it because I loved him. He was my heart and soul. He was everything. We’d have found a way to be happy and whole together. You deserve that too. Why not try?”

  “How?” Veryl sat back in his chair, giving her an exasperated look. “What the hell is seeing us together going to accomplish, aside from you getting a good look at my sorry ass mooning over my best friends? I know how I feel already. My dragon’s a cranky bastard when the three of us are together because he wants so bad to put a permanent mark on them.”

  She frowned. “You’re able to keep from marking them instinctively? How …?”

  “Just— practice. It doesn’t matter. I’d never do that without us all agreeing to it, and it isn’t something they want.”

  He seemed to deflate, and she let the matter drop. Their long afternoon flight had sapped her energy and she needed to eat, so she occupied herself with her food for the next half hour while he did the same.

  While they ate, she surreptitiously observed him, focusing with clinical concentration on his every action. He’d seemed more at ease within his skin than most shifters she knew, which suggested an incredibly close bond with his animal, but the kind of control he claimed to have over his dragon was highly unusual. She couldn’t even claim to have that much control over her own dragon.

  She had once. When Talon was alive, he’d insisted on having her train with him sometimes, and had taught her tricks to stay in sync with her dragon. It was the only way the two of them had managed to put off mating each other for so long. But she was out of practice, choosing instead to simply avoid contact with the types of men she feared might remind her of Talon and spark that need in her while her resistance was down.

  Regardless of how Veryl came by this skill, if his friends were anything like him, she’d love to get them in a room together and see how they behaved. That level of tight control over one’s animal came at a cost, and if Cato or Dez were holding back, she believed it would show. That kind of restraint needed an outlet of some kind to maintain balance. For arena champions, competing provided that balance, but for a man like Veryl, she had to wonder how he’d found it.

  Sex was how she’d done it … before. And she’d wound up with a particular taste for kink that had ultimately helped keep Talon in control of his dragon as well. It was like delayed gratification, substituting mind-blowing orgasms for the need to mark each other every time they touched.

  She frowned at the crumbs on her plate, idly de-stemming a bunch of grapes before popping them into her mouth while she thought. Was that what Veryl did too? Except for him, maybe his kink wasn’t strictly kink so much as a need to hold, protect, and emotionally connect in a way he wasn’t getting with his friends.

  “What are you thinking, starshine?” he said. “Your gears turn about as loudly as Cato’s when he’s got a scheme cooking. Not sure I trust that look.” He was certainly giving her a wary look now, like he might have been second-guessing their entire date and was contemplating parting ways after their argument.

  Simina pushed her chair back and stood, her heart pounding at the so-called scheme she’d cooked up. If he was willing to fulfill her need for balance, she should be willing to do the same for him.

  She stepped around the table, untying her robe as she went. When she reached him, she let the robe hang open, displaying her full, round breasts and soft, ample curves to him.

  Veryl’s gaze remained fixed on her face when she slipped onto his lap, straddling his hips and resting her hands on his shoulders. His hands, however, instantly went to her sides and slid up and around her back, then down again to cup her backside.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, his voice rough with need. “I don’t think I can handle another round of the kind of rough shit you like, baby. Not today.”

  “Then don’t,” she said. “Make love to me.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Veryl dug his fingers into her supple flesh, his chest burning and his cock stiffening at her offer. Her command. It was obvious she was compromising for his sake, giving him what he’d asked for despite wanting something different. As he met her determined stare, he swore silently that he’d prove to her how good it could be. He had so much to give, and would let loose all his pent-up need to just love a partner. She wouldn’t know
what hit her.

  He slipped his hands up her sides, barely grazing the round globes of her breasts as he pushed the robe off her shoulders. She pulled her arms free and the thick garment fell to the floor. Cupping the back of her head, he twined his fingers into her short, silky hair and pulled her in for a kiss. For the briefest second, he thought he saw fear again in her beautiful silver eyes, but then her mouth was against his and he took her lips, teasing his tongue between and savoring the soft whimper she let out in response.

  Pulling her close, he cupped her ass and lifted her up, turning them both to set her on the table in front of him. He had to show her that he could be creative and make love to her at the same time—they didn’t need the soft confines of a bed to do it right.

  Simina pushed the dishes out of the way behind her and several things clattered to the floor, but he was too intent on her to care. He rested his hands on her thighs and bent, pressing a gentle kiss to her knee, right on the tip where he saw a tiny scar—some remnant of childhood adventures. Then he pushed her legs apart and kissed her again, just inside the same knee, letting his lips linger there and his tongue push against her skin. She smelled of wine and honey, and his mouth watered to taste her again. Just her this time, fresh and clean from their bath, his essence washed off her.

  He’d barely begun, yet already her arousal was thick in the air around them. As much as she’d protested the very idea of making love, she certainly seemed ready. Determined to take his time, Veryl moved an inch higher up her thigh, pushed her knees a little wider, and kissed her again, then repeated the motion on her other leg. With each move, he went a little higher, spread her legs a little wider, and kissed her inner thighs, gradually adding more tongue and letting his lips wander over her skin before pulling back and repeating the process once more.