by Abigail Owen
Ladon regarded her with serious eyes that appeared almost black in the dim lighting. “What was your mother like?”
Skylar hadn’t talked about her much. The pain was too close to the surface. Except he lay there, waiting for an answer, and some part of her knew that he truly wanted to know. What it was about her mate that made her want to share, she had no idea. Like her, he wasn’t exactly soft.
“Powerful,” she said. “More powerful than me or Kasia. She could teleport us to the ends of the earth with a single thought. No touching. No having to hop along. She saved our lives with that ability in the end.”
Sending Kasia to Alaska with Maul, Angelika to Spain with Bleidd and his wolf shifters, and herself to Argentina and Rune Abaddon’s merry band of misfit dragon shifters. She could only imagine where her mother had sent Meira.
“Impressive.” He gave the curl he still held a tug. “I mean what was she like as a mother? As a person?”
As a person? Skylar rolled to face away from Ladon, wanting to tell him, but not where he could see her face. “Kind. Patient.” She gave a little snort. “Gods, she had to be, given how different we all were.”
“Who gave her the most trouble?”
The question made Skylar smirk. “Who do you think?”
He huffed what passed for a rusty chuckle. “Yeah. But I bet she didn’t worry about protecting you as much as the others.”
Memories and his faith in her abilities to handle herself snaked around her heart, squeezing hard. How had he known that? “I think she worried about Meira the most. Maybe Angelika. They’re…sweeter. More easily hurt. And Meira can’t stand blood.”
“So, she’s not a warrior like you?”
He thought of her as a warrior? Contentment, an emotion she had little to do with typically, spread through her with a warmth that left her with a happy little glow.
“No,” she answered. “Though Mom insisted Meira learn how to defend herself. She can fight if she has to. Once computers were invented, she got into those like plugging into a socket. Meira’s our family hacker. Angelika is a trained nurse. But what Meira can do with computers is pretty damn amazing. We never had to worry about how to falsify our paperwork or records, or where money was coming from once that technology became prevalent. Not that we needed much, the way we lived.”
Off the grid. In small towns where a dollar went a lot further but was also harder to come by.
The pain she kept at bay most of the time rode in on the coattails of the memories Ladon had opened up with his questions. Enough sharing for one day. She wiggled to get more comfortable. “What about your parents?”
The sheets rustled as he shifted positions behind her. “Soul mates from the moment they met, if you asked them. My father, obviously, was the only child of one of the oldest families of our kind. He found my mother himself. She was Greek, born right before the Ottoman Empire captured Constantinople.”
That explained his darker coloring and all the hair on his chest. Skylar smiled into her pillow. “That must make me older than you.”
“My parents conceived quickly after their mating. I was born in the 1490s. You?”
“I got twenty years on you, mister. Guess you better start listening to your elder.”
Ladon grunted at that, not that she expected him to agree. “My parents were a team. No decision was made by just one. Every act, every path they went down, was carefully weighed and agreed on.”
Would her parents have done the same had Pytheios not been successful in his murderous spree? “Did you know your grandparents?” she asked.
“No.”
“Me neither.” Pytheios had seen to that, too.
Ladon shifted in the bed, though he kept hold of her. “My parents were secretly organizing other families to revolt when Thanatos killed them. Somehow, he found out. But rather than confront them, he held a celebration for the Samhain festival, inviting all our people to come. Uther, Brock’s father, was there. So were the other kings, except Pytheios. He didn’t bother.”
Skylar frowned. “Gorgon was there?”
“Yes.”
Dread came over her like a blanket of thorns. Skylar turned over to face her mate who lay on his back, hands behind his head, staring with unseeing eyes at the stalactites overhead illuminated by the faint light of a camping lantern. “What happened?”
Ladon shrugged, the sheet slipping lower. “In the middle of the festivities, they disappeared. I never saw them alive again. Before I took Thanatos’s life, he told me—hell, bragged—that he’d chained them to walls deep within the mountain and had slit my mother’s throat. She’d died a slow death, and my father died, a little at a time, with her.”
Skylar closed her eyes against the pain bracketing his mouth and flaring blue fire in his eyes. “Gods above,” she whispered.
She forced herself to look again, just in time to see his bitter smile. “The gods had nothing to do with that night. I found their ashes…eventually.”
Skylar placed her hand over Ladon’s heart, which beat steady and true beneath her palm. His loss, or at least the discovery of the truth, had to be as raw as her own mother’s death.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly.
They lay there in silence, in perfect understanding. These horrendous acts had made them who they were and brought them here. That didn’t lessen the pain any, though.
After a while, Skylar turned back to her side with a huff. “Why haven’t we heard?”
“They’re waiting for Brock’s Curia Regis to gather,” Ladon reminded her. “It may be hours yet.”
“Yeah.” Skylar sighed. “Waiting still blows.”
A possessive hand snaked around her waist, pulling her up against her mate’s chest. “There are…better ways we could spend this time.”
His warm breath stirred the air at her ear, and she had to contain a shiver. He’d been doing this to her for three days. Touching her. Taunting her. “You really are power hungry, aren’t you?”
“This has nothing to do with power and everything to do with honesty. I’ve said it. Hell, I’ve shown you more than I’ve shown anyone.”
She knew he didn’t mean sex, but the way he’d let her in. Even so, he ground his hips into her backside, making it impossible to deny the hard shaft of his erection pressing in to her.
“Why can’t you admit it? Say you want me.”
Every nerve in her body throbbed. Tell him. Tell him. Tell him. That’s what her body was chanting.
“I just need three little words.”
Five hundred years of running from them, fearing them, hating them…and then Ladon Ormarr. Gods she wanted to say it, give in to him. But when it came right down to it, she was just plain scared. The people she loved died or were in constant danger. And admitting wanting him was only the first step. He’d want more. So would she.
What if that admission solidified their bond? The risk to her family, the risk to his people. Right now one of them could die and not take the other.
Admit it. You don’t want to kill him if you go, a small voice whispered.
“Why can’t we just fuck and call it a day?” she gritted. Then she pressed against him, craving the contact. “I need the distraction.”
“I’m a distraction now?” Only he didn’t sound offended, more amused.
“We’re sitting ducks with this plan. Kasia could die. I could die… You could die.”
The hand teasing little feathered touches over her belly stilled. “You’re afraid for me?”
Skylar scowled her frustration and didn’t answer.
Ladon was quiet for a long moment, and Skylar wished she was facing him, so she could see his eyes, try to discern his thoughts.
Suddenly he moved. Skylar gasped as he flipped her to her back, settling between her legs before she could stop him, that hard shaft pressing in a spo
t guaranteed to drive her crazy. “One distraction coming up. Tonight only.”
About damn time, both body and mind screamed.
With agonizingly slow movements, Ladon worked her shorts down her legs, levering her up as needed until she was bare beneath him. Never once did he remove that bold gaze from hers, and damned if she wasn’t wet, just from being the center of his focus in such a direct way. Days of craving built up, then denied, also had her blood pumping. And he had yet to truly touch her.
With her bared to him, he pushed his own boxers down, then positioned himself. He paused at her entrance, and Skylar couldn’t hold back a whimper of need.
Please don’t let him stop.
His smile held a sliver of amusement. “This one is to take the edge off. Next round, we’ll take our time.”
“Uh-huh.” Not exactly a snappy comeback, but she was too focused on the end game to bother with snappy.
“No arguments? No demands?” he teased, slipping the tip in but stopping.
Damn insufferable man. Hooking her legs around him, she surprised him with a sudden move that flipped their dynamic, putting her on top. As luck would have it, he didn’t pull out of her with the movement. Taking advantage of the leverage she now had, Skylar sank down over him, working him into her with fast, shallow strokes until she’d taken every inch of his throbbing cock.
“Fuck,” he groaned. He grasped her by the hips in a hard grip and ground up into her. “You feel so good.”
So did he. Skylar rocked her hips, dropping her head back to revel in the sensations bombarding her body. In seconds, with hardly a touch, she was already balanced on the precipice of an orgasm. He filled her, stretching her in the most delicious way.
She rocked her hips again, loving the sound of his groan. “What was that about a quick one to take the edge off?”
She was tempted to tease him, like he’d been teasing her for days, but her body needed release more than she needed to retaliate. Undulating her hips, grinding into him, she set a pace guaranteed to help her with her problem.
That hard, deep blue gaze trained on her did the rest, more of a turn-on than she’d ever be willing to admit. His hands, traveling with such possessiveness all over her, only added to the pleasure.
Even so, the speed with which her orgasm built shocked her. She’d hardly gotten started before that telltale tingle started at the base of her spine.
“Oh gods,” she moaned. Her breathing hitched, panting out of her in sharp puffs as she tried to hold it back. Just a little longer.
“Skylar.”
She couldn’t deny the command in that dark voice, dropping her head to look him in the eye.
“Come now.” Using that bruising grip on her hips, he slammed up into her.
Her traitorous body listened, tumbling into that sweet oblivion as sensation burst through her in shuddering waves. She allowed her mind to spin away, aware of how Ladon swelled inside her before shouting out his own release, which only spurred hers to continue on.
She’d hardly floated down from that high when suddenly, Ladon whipped her top off, then rolled so that he was above her. He settled between her legs, still embedded inside her, semi-hard. Somewhere in those moments, he’d also removed his shirt.
“You move quick for such a big man,” Skylar half grumbled.
“Next time we go fast and hard, I’ll go at dragon speed. Sort of like your own personal vibrator.” Ladon grinned.
A full-on grin, maybe the first he’d ever given her. Despite the scar down his face—which she had to admit she’d sort of stopped noticing—he suddenly turned from harsh to something rather beautiful. Skylar sucked in a sharp breath but allowed her gaze to drink him in like this. With a fascination she didn’t want to quite cop to, she trailed her fingers down the ridge of scar tissue.
“What happened here?”
“Thanatos gave me that. Blew fire directly into an open wound. He should’ve killed me.”
Thank the gods that didn’t happen.
She couldn’t face the way her heart clenched at the thought of never having even known this man. It meant too much. He was coming to mean too much.
The rare times in her life when she’d allowed herself to picture the man she’d mate, assuming stupidly, though in a vague sort of way all those times that she’d care for him, she’d pictured a guy who would be the yin to her yang. Easy where she was intense. Fun where she was too focused. Someone to force her to lighten up, to take some time, to take fewer chances.
Ladon was none of those things. If anything, he was the male version of her multiplied. Maybe that’s why they seemed to understand each other—
No. She didn’t want to allow her thoughts to go down paths she couldn’t finish. Not until this was over.
Pushing all these serious thoughts away, she shifted beneath him, running her foot down the back of his muscled calf. “Maybe we should try that vibrator thing now?”
“Uh-uh.” He shook his head. “I told you. This next one will be slow. If I don’t get to claim this body for a while—seeing as you could give unicorns lessons in stubborn—I intend to savor every inch of you tonight.”
A gush of warm wetness seeped from her, and Ladon grinned again. With aching slowness, he slid out then back in.
“Already?” She cocked her head, though her lips twitched.
His gaze dropped to her lips and her heart fluttered inside her. “Kiss me.”
The words were a command, only before she could obey, he lowered his head and claimed her for himself.
Skylar closed her eyes and sank into the kiss, the feel of him against her, his scruff rough against her cheeks, his thickening cock growing even harder.
Ladon lifted his head and trailed the back of his hand gently down the side of her face. “You taste of cloves and smoke, like your scent. Intoxicating.”
Her heart clenched in reaction to his look and touch and words. More than that, though…
I genuinely like him.
Not exactly a revelation, like the knowledge had snuck up on her slowly. But, in general, she didn’t like anyone except her sisters. And sometimes not even them.
Words trembled on the tips of her lips. She should tell him. He’d been honest with her.
After the battle. Don’t risk the bond or you risk killing him.
She settled on that decision and let go, leaning into his touch. His hands were trailing over her, his lips not far behind, even as he slowly moved inside her. And she lost herself in the man who’d become her mate.
Best distraction ever.
…
Meira stared at the stony face of the man in front of her and allowed shock to settle in, taking up residence inside her in the form of a pit of writhing anxiety in her very core.
“Are you sure?” she asked through lips too tight, refusing to work properly.
Over a year with Carrick and she trusted no one better. She needn’t have asked, but she had to. Because what he’d just said made no sense.
“I’m sure,” he said in the scratchy voice all of his kind seemed to share.
The gargoyle stood resolute in front of her, currently in his human form, though his other form still showed through in a jaw and a visage that appeared etched from the very granite that he became at will. Meira would consider him handsome, in an intense sort of way, with his dark gray hair and eyes, and those chiseled features and body. However, she’d seen him in his guardian form only once… That had frightened her enough that she’d never seen him in quite the same light.
As the leader of his Chimera—which she’d originally thought referred to his family grouping, but lately suspected it meant his kingdom or realm—Carrick had not shown surprise when she materialized in front of him the day her mother died and sent her daughters to the four corners of the planet. He’d kept her secret and safe, and only in these last m
onths, she’d finally started to relax her guard, that coil of anxiety loosening inside her.
Until this moment.
Both Kasia and Skylar mated to dragon shifters? How? By their will? Were they forced? If the mating was successful, what did that mean? Would it work differently, since there were four of them now, and not just one? Would any shifter do? Or had her sisters found their destined mates?
“Kasia and her mate are at Store Skagastølstind now.”
The royal home of the Gold Dragon Clan of shifters? “Why?”
Carrick’s expression, like all gargoyles, didn’t do anything. Not in a way she could see, anyway. “Her mate is apparently the rightful king. He’s gone to claim his throne.”
What? The blasting roar of the red bastard who’d taken her mother’s life echoed through her mind, a memory so real, she almost covered her ears. How could her sister mate his kind? It couldn’t be willingly.
“What of Angelika?” she asked.
“Still no sign of her.”
Mama. What am I supposed to do now?
A shard of pain at that brief thought of her parent sliced through her heart with the unerring accuracy of an assassin’s blade, and she stuffed that thought and the pain down deep where it couldn’t get out to hurt her more.
Still, the question wouldn’t quit echoing through the hollows of her mind, still empty from the shock. She wasn’t brave, like Kasia, or a fighter, like Skylar. Even Angelika would probably know what to do now. But Meira had always been the more cautious of her sisters.
More afraid, she taunted herself.
“Thank you for letting me know. I…need to think about this.”
Carrick dipped his head in a smooth, rather formal nod. Living here had been like going back in time, when men were chivalrous and women delicate creatures to protect. Enslave, if you asked Skylar, whose independent nature had chaffed under such a restrictive era. A time Meira’s romantic heart yearned to return to. She’d liked being protected, cosseted. Did that make her weak? Or wrong?
