Dragon's Baby

by Juniper Hart

  They had spent a night together, many years after their first meeting. Ivy thought it would deepen the bond between them, ground it, cement it.

  She had been wrong.

  It didn’t take long for Ivy to realize that she was the new joke. Larkin carted her around for show and used her as a way to get what he wanted from her father and other members of the pack. Sly and conniving, he managed to secure a successorship for himself while single-handedly demoting Ivy to nothing more than his assistant.

  When Ivy had tried telling this to her father so that he would see the kind of manipulating bastard Larkin was, her father would just smile and pat her head.

  “You’re overreacting,” he would say, and then he would turn to Larkin and ask how he was doing.

  Falling for Larkin had ruined Ivy’s life and poisoned her pack. She would have to start over, and she had. At least, she had thought so.

  “Is there something you want?” Ivy demanded, ready to hang up.

  “Your father says you haven’t been answering his calls,” Larkin answered. “I said I’d talk to you about it.”

  “I’m not your responsibility anymore,” Ivy snarled through gritted teeth.

  Larkin laughed, and the sound made Ivy clench her fist. “As far as the pack is concerned, you are my mate. This ridiculous behavior of yours reflects poorly on me, so I suggest you improve your attitude.”

  “Oh, go to hell!”

  “Oh, no, no, my dear,” he said, as if he were talking to a child. It made Ivy’s blood boil. “You will not be rude to me. I hold your life in my hands. Never forget that.”

  As much as Ivy wanted to deny it, Larkin was right. He had the money and power to drag her back to the family home by her hair if he wanted to act on his threat. She would never truly be out of his reach, no matter how much and how far away Ivy ran.

  “Be a dear,” Larkin continued, “and call your father, will you? Ciao.”

  All the anger Ivy had been suppressing bubbled up to the surface. She screamed and punched the wall with her fist, making a small crack on it. Her knuckles were barely scraped.

  She forced herself to take a deep breath and slowly exhale it. Ivy leaned back against the wall and pressed her phone to her chest just as the screen lit up with a new message.

  It was a picture from a number she didn’t recognize.

  “I didn’t think you’d be back in Houston so soon,” Ivy said as she scooted into a booth. Harley had called her, asking to meet her at a café, and while she had been ecstatic to hear from him again, now she was growing slightly worried. Harley had been… acting strange. He wasn’t looking at her. He kept shifting in his seat. He turned his coffee cup around in his hands a few times.

  “What’s your last name?” he asked, still avoiding looking at her.

  Ivy frowned in confusion. “What?”

  Harley sighed and lowered his voice.

  “I heard that you’re a member of the White Rabbits,” he said, and Ivy felt the color drain from her face. “Is that true?”

  “That’s… complicated,” Ivy mumbled.

  “How so? You either are, or you aren’t.”

  Ivy knocked her fist against the table, trying to contain her frustration. “What if I used to be?”

  Harley still didn’t meet her eyes.

  “Look at me,” Ivy said. “If you’re going to talk to me, then look at me.” He finally turned his gaze back to her, his eyes serious and intense on hers. “Why are you bringing all this up now, anyway?”

  Harley ran a hand down his face. “Because I’m from Birch City.”

  Ivy’s eyes widened, and her fingers tightened around her own cup of coffee. Perfect. Just perfect.

  “Ortega or Arco?” she asked. Those were the only two packs in Birch City, and if Harley was a lone wolf, he wouldn’t be interested in the White Rabbits. He had to belong to either.

  “Arco,” he answered.

  “By blood?”

  “No. My mother moved to Birch City after my father died. Then we joined the pack.”

  Ivy leaned back on her seat. Going out with a werewolf from an enemy pack was dangerous, but if Harley had asked to meet her here despite his suspicions, and if he hadn’t walked out on her after finding out who she really was, that meant he was willing to make… whatever was going on between them work.

  “Well, it could always be worse,” Ivy said, trying to lighten the mood. “You could be an Ortega.”

  Harley sighed. “I used to date an Ortega.” He cracked a smile, and Ivy started laughing, the tension between them apparently forgotten.

  “So, how long are you here for?” Ivy took a sip from her coffee.

  “Just for the weekend,” Harley said.

  Ivy could work with that. A weekend was more than enough for her.

  The hotel room they picked this time was much more spacious. Even the shower was big enough for two, which meant that both Harley and Ivy could shower together.

  “What do you say?” Harley asked, wrapping his arms around her and kissing the top of her head.

  “I’d love to,” Ivy answered.

  Harley pulled her into the shower then turned the water on. He stood between Ivy and the quickly warming jets. His arms were still wrapped around her, and when Ivy looked up at him, she noticed that he was staring at her intently. She couldn’t exactly read the expression on his face.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Harley seemed to realize he had been staring, because he smiled and shook his head to himself. “You’re really here.”

  “Well,” she said with a giggle, “yeah. I am.”

  “I’m just…” The knuckles of one of his hands caressed her cheek, and Ivy leaned into the touch. “I’m just happy that you’re here—that I get to be with you again.”

  When he leaned down to kiss her, Ivy’s arms snaked around his neck, pulling him close to her. She threaded her fingers through Harley’s dark hair, leaning back against one of the shower walls and tugging him forward so that their bodies were still pressed together. Ivy moaned as Harley began to rub his erection against her slit, wanting him to be inside of her again, wanting him to fill her the same way he had during their first night together.

  Harley grabbed her thighs and lifted her legs off the ground, pinning her against the shower wall, his member rubbing against her, and Ivy’s arms tightened around his neck. She was so wet already that Harley easily pushed inside her, the head of his erection brushing her bundle of nerves. His thrusts were slow and deep, and combined with the building steam in the shower, Ivy began to feel lightheaded. She pulled Harley even closer, his body keeping hers pressed against the wall, her voice growing louder and higher as he continued thrusting into her center.

  Ivy felt her release approaching, and she buried her face on Harley’s neck as her climax overtook her.

  Ivy wrapped her hair in a towel before getting into the bed, snuggling into the crook of Harley’s elbow, his arm wrapping around her shoulders.

  “This isn’t going to be easy, you know,” she said. “Not if they find out that you’re—”

  Harley kissed her forehead. “Well, then we make sure they just don’t find out.” Ivy’s expression was still full of worry, because Harley kissed her temple. “Listen, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  “It’s you I’m worried about,” Ivy insisted. “I’m safe. They’ll think I’m going through a phase or something and just slap me on the wrist. But you’re an outsider. They won’t care about what happens to you.”

  “Ivy,” he said, and the way he spoke her name made her feel like she had nothing to worry about—like they were both safe. “It’ll be okay. I promise.”

  Ivy sighed and cuddled closer to him. There was no use in continuing that conversation, and she might as well stop worrying so much about it. “So, what are we doing tomorrow?”

  “We should probably get some fresh air, right?”

  “Absolutely,” she said. “I told a couple of friends I would go see them
at a Roller Derby match tomorrow.”

  Harley nodded. “We could go to dinner afterwards, if you’d like.”

  “Sounds great,” Ivy agreed with a smile.

  4

  Harley wasn’t sure exactly what to expect. He’d never been to a Roller Derby match before. He was under the impression the venue would be something like a big warehouse with a worn out old rink in the middle. The actual arena was a two-story building that looked a lot like a small civic center or hockey stadium. Just inside the double doors, there were big banners hanging up for each of the home teams. The people in the crowd milled around with nachos and huge Styrofoam cups.

  He couldn’t stop glancing around the building. He felt like he was a little boy in a giant toy store.

  Their seats were only a handful of rows away from the floor. Ivy settled in and put her feet up on the seat in front of her. She turned to smile at Harley, and he felt his skin tingle.

  “Which of these teams are we here to see?” he asked, holding a cup of beer in his hands.

  “The Prima Bloodyrinas versus the Murder Dolls,” Ivy said.

  “Which team are your friends on?”

  “Actually,” she told him, laughing, “I have a friend on each team.”

  Harley smiled back at her. “Good thing you brought a date, then. I can help with half the cheering.”

  Out on the floor, women in red uniforms and roller skates started to line up.

  “What team is this one?”

  “The Prima Bloodyrinas,” said Ivy. “My friend Bridgette is number twenty-seven. Each player gets introduced by the announcer, though, and they all have ballet-themed nicknames. Bridgette’s is Black Swan. Oh, look, there she is!”

  Twelve girls in red uniforms lined up under the spotlight to wave at the crowd. Each one of them took a bow when the emcee introduced them to the spectators. When Bridgette’s name was called, Ivy stood up to yell and scream and wave her arms at her. Harley found it incredibly endearing.

  “Okay,” he said with a chuckle, “I guess I’ll cheer for your other friend. Which one is she?”

  Ivy sat back down, laughing. “The captain from the Murder Dolls, number thirteen, Molotov.”

  Harley frowned. “Like the cocktail?”

  “If you knew her,” Ivy told him, “it would make sense.”

  The announcer introduced all the ladies in black who were stepping into the rink. When the captain skated forward to take a bow, Harley stood up and cheered for her.

  “Wow!” Ivy cried, and she sounded pleased. “You’re pretty into this already!” Harley took his seat again and leaned closer to Ivy.

  “Okay, so what happens next?”

  Ivy put her feet back on the seat in front of her. “Well, they play in groups of five. Only one person on a team can score points each round, but the rounds are pretty short. So they’ll start skating, and the point maker will try to lap the other girls of the opposing team—”

  “But the other girls try to stop her, right?” Harley interjected.

  “Right,” she replied.

  Although Harley still didn’t entirely understand the mechanics of the game, he cheered whenever the Murder Dolls scored and booed when the Prima Bloodyrinas did, earning a playful shove from Ivy each time he did. The Prima Bloodyrinas ended up winning the match, and Harley treated Ivy to their next round of beers.

  As the game finished and he and Ivy walked back to the atrium, she leaned against him.

  “Do you want to go see your friends?” Harley asked her.

  “Oh, no,” Ivy answered, sighing tiredly. “I don’t feel like waiting. Sometimes they do autographs before they have to change, and it could take forever.”

  He laughed, leaning his head on top of hers. “Hungry, I take it?”

  “And looking forward to being alone with you again.”

  Harley bit back a grin. He was glad he wasn’t the only one who kept thinking about the two of them being alone in their hotel room again.

  Outside, everything was damp. A brief shower had come through during the match, but no one had been able to hear it over the cheers and music from the match. Headlights reflected off of puddles, and the air had gotten noticeably colder.

  “Come on.” Ivy reached out for Harley’s hand, interlacing their fingers together. “I think I want soup.”

  Before Harley could reply, he heard a voice say, loudly and bluntly, “Bunny!”

  Next to him, Ivy’s entire body tensed.

  Ivy’s head snapped around to see Larkin standing under a street light. He was smoking a cigarette and staring at her. He looked just like she remembered him: his short blond hair was perfectly moussed in place. He wore a sweater vest, slacks, and a necktie to complement his nouveau rich look. He could very well be mistaken for some polite, dapper librarian, rather than the murderous loan shark Ivy knew he was.

  Harley turned to her. “Do you know that guy?”

  “Yeah, I…” She had to keep Harley and Larkin as far away from each other as they could. She didn’t know how Larkin had found her or what he was doing here, but she had to get rid of him. “This—this’ll just take a minute, okay?”

  Harley glanced from her to Larkin and then back to her. “Okay.”

  Ivy squeezed his hand and rushed over to Larkin, fuming all the way.

  “What are you doing here, Larkin?” she spat, glaring at him. He flashed her a toothy smile that she wanted to punch off his face.

  “I thought I would give you the opportunity to apologize in person.”

  “Apologize?” Ivy repeated in disbelief. “For what?”

  “You were so rude to me before,” Larkin said. “Those things hurt me.”

  “I called my father,” Ivy continued, ignoring him. A heartless bastard like him had no feelings. “What else do you want from me?”

  Larkin grabbed her by the wrist, firmly holding her in place. “I thought I was clear earlier when I asked for an apology.”

  Ivy’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sure you want to do that?” She looked down at her wrist, and all she wanted to do was rip his fingers off her one by one. “You might have better standing than I do in my father’s eyes, Larkin, but when it comes to sheer strength…” Her eyes flashed gold for a moment, and the hand Larkin wasn’t gripping tightened into a fist. “I’m sure I could take a mutt like you any day.”

  Before Larkin could react, Ivy had punched him in the face. He stumbled back, and he slightly let go of her wrist. For Ivy, it was enough, because she pulled her wrist free of his hold and pulled it back to punch him again.

  She was too slow. Larkin was already throwing a punch of his own, but then he was struck again, and when Ivy turned to look at the second attacker, she saw Harley waving his hand, as if the hit had hurt him.

  “Are you okay?” Harley asked her while Larkin staggered to his feet. Ivy nodded in response.

  Larkin spat out a bit of blood before touching his now cut lip, which started to bleed. He looked up at Harley and then at Ivy, a wicked smile spreading across his mouth.

  “Bunny! You’ve found yourself a beau?” He stood up straight to look Harley over. “A rebellious young wolf with no future…” He turned his cold eyes to Ivy. “Just like you.”

  Larkin turned around and walked away without saying another word.

  The way back to the hotel was quiet, neither of them saying a word. Ivy wasn’t in the mood for a proper dinner out, so they instead ordered everything to go and returned to the room they had gotten for the weekend.

  They sat on the floor, eating in silence. Harley hadn’t mentioned anything about Larkin or about how fast the situation had seemed to escalate, and Ivy appreciated it, but she knew she couldn’t avoid the conversation forever.

  “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

  Harley turned to her, and he looked confused. “What are you sorry for?”

  “For what happened,” Ivy said.

  He looked down at his food container and didn’t add anything else. Then he started to talk,
but he did so in a way that sounded like he was choosing his words carefully.

  “So,” Harley began. “Who was that?”

  “Larkin,” Ivy muttered, the name tasting like bile on her mouth.

  “Is he a member of your pack?”

  She sighed and ran her hands through her head. “It’s… kind of a long story.”

  “We have time,” Harley said, offering her a small smile.

  “He, um…” Ivy took a deep breath. “He joined our pack when I was a kid. I started liking him… then he became my dad’s favorite. Now I hate him, and yet my dad loves him. It’s…” She exhaled in frustration. “It’s really annoying, more than anything else. And to make matters worse, Larkin has practically convinced the entire pack that he’s my mate, but he probably just thinks of me as a way for him to stay close to my father. I don’t know why, though—my dad has always said my uncle will take over after him.”

  She heard Harley inhaling sharply, and when she glanced at him, he was looking down at his food container again.

  “Does he show up a lot like that?” he asked, his voice low.

  “No,” Ivy said. “This is actually the first time I’ve seen him in years. I was as surprised as you were.”

  “So why do you think he was there tonight?”

  Harley was looking at her now, and Ivy could do nothing but shrug her shoulders.

  It was a reminder, she thought, that as long as I’m still here, he holds my life in his hands.

  She didn’t dare say any of that out loud.

  Harley and Ivy stood in front of the cab that would take Harley to the airport. She hugged him as tightly as she could, and he did the exact same thing.

  “Do you really have to go?” she asked him, her arms wrapped tight around his chest.

  Harley kissed the top of her head. “Unfortunately, yes.”