The dragon man, whose name she hadn’t even bothered to learn yet, sat up and planted a foot onto either side of the lawn chair before his eyes found her. She was surprisingly aware of her hair as it fell the length of her back, as though she could feel his phantom fingers moving through it. She desperately wanted to turn inside and wrap it into a bun before coming back outside.
Instead, she held her place. “Look. I thought a lot about what you said last night.”
“Is that so?” He rubbed a hand over his face. His stubble had grown long over the night.
She nodded. “You’re right. We… we aren’t thinking about what we’re doing, about how many others it could hurt. What my boss wants me to do is too dangerous.”
It helped that she was sprinkling her words with the truth as she knew it. This mission was far too dangerous, but she knew that it would serve their end goal. She just hoped that it worked as Everett promised.
The dragon man narrowed his eyes at her. For a moment, she was worried that he wouldn’t believe her. Finally, he nodded. His head fell into his hands. He dragged them across his stubble as he looked back up at her. She could feel something stirring inside of her that she didn’t understand. It was an unfamiliar feeling, much like having another entity moving inside of her own body. It stretched and reached for the dragon man sitting on her porch.
She frowned as her center of gravity leaned toward him. He saw the expression on her face and slowly stood up. Gentle hands touched her shoulders before she fell over. The dragon man helped her regain balance, an easy task since the entity stopped moving once he was near.
“Are you alright, Rhiannon?”
She jerked herself from his touch. The entity inside of her swirled and lurched again, but she held her ground. She held a hand to her forehead.
“Rhiannon?”
His voice made her head spin faster, but when she opened her eyes and saw him, the whole world seemed to shrink until it contained only him. It made her angry. What was wrong with her? Yet, despite the ire that she aimed at him he remained concerned for her. Worry softened the darkness in his eyes and his hands hovered near her in case she needed him.
Why did a dragon have to be so… nice? She’d been taught that they were brutes. They were senseless killers that hated humanity. Why couldn’t this be true of him, too?
“I think you need to lay down,” the dragon man decided. He scooped her up into his arms before she could protest.
“Don’t you dare,” she growled. “Put me down!”
The feeling inside of her settled down even though she was furious. Perhaps it was her anger that burned it away. Hoisting her coffee high, she rolled out of his arms once they were inside. The drink sloshed on the floor, but her feet landed flat.
The dragon man sighed. “There’s clearly something wrong with you. Can’t you just accept help when it’s offered?”
“I told you to put me down. You didn’t listen.”
He threw his hands in the air.
“I’m not someone you need to take care of. I’ve been fine on my own for this long.” She straightened herself and swayed slightly. “I need to eat something. That’s my problem. I’m just lightheaded because there’s nothing but caffeine in my system.”
“I make a mean waffle,” the dragon man said before turning on a dime and heading toward her kitchen cupboards.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she shouted after him.
“Making you breakfast since you seem incompetent to take care of yourself. I’m rather famished myself.” He glanced over his shoulder at her as he crouched near the open cupboard. “You wouldn’t want me getting hungry with just the two of us in this small house, would you?”
Rhiannon expected a spike of fear to shoot through her. Instead, warmth filled her core, heavy and expectant. It threw her for a loop. This was the oddest morning she’d had since Raphael walked into the college’s GOE office. Weirder, even.
The dragon man pulled a mixing bowl from the cupboard and hunted through her pantry for ingredients. She was self-conscious for a moment, knowing that it was sparse. Still, he came up with what he seemed to need. Not that she would know. Most of what she ate came from a box or takeaway. Wilson hadn’t been the best role model in that regard.
Resigning herself to her fate, she fell into a kitchen chair and watched the dragon man move around the kitchen. He was graceful, for such a giant brute.
“Is there anything I can call you besides asshat or squatter since you slept on my back porch?”
“What is asshat for?” He laughed as the whisk in his hand moved with alarming speeds.
“For being you,” Rhiannon said.
He glanced over his shoulder and the spark in his eye made her breath catch. “It’s almost like you’re getting to know me better. I’ll have to tell my family that one. I’m sure they’d love to use the name, too. You, on the other hand, can call me Gareth.”
Gareth. It suited him, she thought. Before she knew it, Gareth set a plate full of raspberry waffles and breakfast sausage before her. Butter and jam followed it. She could barely believe that there was a dragon making waffles in her kitchen.
He was even serving her. And she let him.
Chapter Four
Gareth pulled out a chair beside the cranky woman and sank into it before reaching to claim a waffle for himself. He’d been pleasantly surprised to find a waffle iron in her possession after seeing the state of her pantry. But, as he snuck a glance at her, he was truly confused by her.
The scent that touched his nose on the porch told him that the female dragon he’d found the night before was nearby. It wasn’t until Rhiannon lost her balance and lurched toward him that he realized that the scent was coming from her. It confused him. This anger filled creature was no dragon. Of that, he was sure.
She worked for GOE. Despite their connection with the white dragon, she seemed to have a deep-seated hatred for his kind that clearly stated she was not a dragon. He should have picked her up, put her on the soft surface of her couch and left when he could. Instead, his first instinct had been to feed this waif of a monster beside him.
When she emerged from her house earlier in the morning, her words had held a touch of sincerity. He wanted to believe that she saw the truth in his words and that she would put an end to her boss’s madness, but it was hard to believe. Rhiannon was a good soldier and a good soldier followed orders until oblivion.
It made him sad more than anything. He expected to feel anger and frustration, but when he looked at the woman in her pajamas with her hair loose and free around her shoulders, he couldn’t help but feel sorry for the fate she was marching toward.
“What are you staring at?” Rhiannon asked between mouthfuls of waffle.
He let a small smile touch his lips for a moment. “Did you mean what you said this morning? That you will try to stop your boss’s plans to fake a terror attack?”
He hoped that his words held weight, that she could feel it as much as he did. What her boss wanted to do was a horrible, desperate thing. It would cost them the lives of not only dragons, but humans if they weren’t careful. Gareth didn’t want anyone to die.
She regarded him as she chewed. He thought he could see a soul behind her dark eyes, but he very well could have been wrong. All he wanted was the chance at happiness. But, that rug had already been pulled out from under him. The best he could do now was keep his family safe.
“I will try,” she said, her voice small.
Gareth nodded. He stood and brushed loose flour from his shirt and jeans. The best he could do now was return to the territory and tell his leader what he’d learned. Perhaps, if they tried they could put a stop to it if she didn’t.
“You’re leaving?” Rhiannon asked. Her eyes widened as if her words surprised her own self.
He nodded. “You and I aren’t meant to be under the same roof for very long. We’re more likely to kill one another than to get along. It’s time I should be going before we bur
n your house down.”
He didn’t say that he’d like to burn the house down with their passionate love making. He didn’t say that he wanted to know what kind of fire burned inside of her to make her so dark. Instead, he told himself that he was being a self-destructive idiot. Laying with a GOE agent was surely suicide, no matter how much she intrigued him.
***
Gareth parked his truck outside of his leader’s cottage home. It looked human and normal, even in the wilderness that was Snowdonia. Maggie was nowhere to be found, her life too busy for a woman her age. Drystan, on the other hand, moved a bit slower and more precise.
The dragon in question was working in a tool shed behind the cottage. The smell of fresh cut wood filled the air.
“I must say that I am okay with some of these inventions of technology that my mate has brought to me,” Drystan said without turning around. He was holding a nail gun in his hand, nailing together pieces of wood that Gareth couldn’t decide would end up making.
“She does spoil you,” Gareth agreed.
“And, it seems, that the new exception regarding Territory restriction has spoiled you. I know that you spent the night off the Territory while the humans are in an uproar over what happened. You also smell of woman, but not sex. Do I have to warn you of the trouble you could not only bring upon yourself, but upon your family if you are not more careful?”
Gareth let out a breath. He’d been expecting this. Drystan was a level headed, honorable man, but he was also their leader for a reason. The older dragon slowly turned to pin Gareth with burning eyes. The nail gun was clenched in his hand, the plastic groaning beneath his strength.
“I followed the female GOE agent last night,” Gareth confessed. He wouldn’t tell him of the female dragon scent he found. Not when the scent came from the GOE agent. It had to be wrong. It was a fluke that didn’t need Drystan’s attention.
“I see that she didn’t succeed in killing you,” Drystan said. “You certainly didn’t charm her. I doubt the woman would fall for charm even if you had any. What made you spend the night with her? Do not lie, I can smell her all over you.”
“I overheard her partner pass on orders from her boss, the man that kidnapped your son’s mate. They want to destroy one of their own buildings and try to blame it on us.”
Drystan’s eyebrows rose. “You didn’t return with this information immediately?”
Gareth felt the fire inside him reach higher. He knew that he was moments from smoke leaking from his nostrils. Why couldn’t his leader trust him? Why couldn’t he be proud of him for trying to protect them?
“My hope was to convince the woman to try to stop it from happening. I thought… I thought that maybe she would have a conscience, but I fear that I might have been wrong.”
Drystan sighed heavily before closing the space between them. With his head bowed forward, he let a heavy hand fall onto Gareth’s shoulder. His fingers pressed into Gareth’s shoulder almost painfully.
“Perhaps you have the right intentions for once in your life, but you do not have what it takes to act upon them.” Drystan’s hand moved to the back of Gareth’s neck in a tight brace. His head rose to meet Gareth’s eyes and the younger dragon could see the flames of anger in them. “You have wasted your life sleeping and drinking your way through your years. Do not think to act in this dire time without consulting me ever again. You are mine to command and mine to keep safe. If you are out and about while the Guardians are looking for any reason to hurt our own, I cannot protect you. If that woman turns on you and hurts you it makes me look bad. Do you hear me?”
Gareth swallowed the ball of fire that was lodged in his throat. Scorching air seeped from his nostrils, but he nodded. There was a reason that Drystan was his leader, but Gareth was a part of this family. He had every right to put his life on the line in an effort to protect them. He wished that his leader could only see that. Instead, he thought of how he looked to the world.
He was concerned with his honor.
Gareth ducked out of his leader’s grip, unable to form words. Instead, he walked away. His efforts weren’t appreciated. He was just Drystan’s silly nephew. As much as he wanted to punch something in that moment, he pulled it back and told himself he would do better. He would stop GOE from implementing their attack.
It didn’t matter if it cost him his life.
Chapter Five
Day and night, Rhiannon waited for the call that would spur her into action, but nothing came. She sat in the hearings like a good little soldier and went to the grocers like she was supposed to, but the anxiety of not knowing what to do was building inside of her. Things were not looking good for Wilson in the hearings. No one truly believed the story that she and Everett were weaving. Perhaps they knew Wilson all too well.
Perhaps this was the end of her career.
It meant that she was getting out of bed later and later in the day. That morning she’d gotten up after eleven and barely dragged herself to the shower.
She sighed and turned off the water. Steam filled the room as she stepped out of the shower. She wiped the mirror and looked at the woman in front of her. She had dark, mysterious eyes. Tendrils of almost black hair snaked over her pale skin. The stark contrast made her look almost alien. She wondered what her parents looked like. Wilson hadn’t been able to give her any family photos when she was old enough to wonder what they’d been like.
He simply told her to look toward the future. Not the past.
She looked to the small scar in the soft skin of the inside of her arm. Wilson told her that it was from a surgery she needed after her parents died. He didn’t go on to explain what it had been for, holding onto his forward-looking motto. Rhiannon had never wondered about it before, but these days she had too much time on her hands.
She often found a slight discomfort in the scar. Almost a burning sensation, but she never payed any attention to it. Without anything to occupy her mind she seemed to notice it increasingly more nowadays. Had it always burned this much? She couldn’t remember. She reached with her opposite hand and touched a fingertip to the small, white scar. She ran her finger up and down the scar, trying to summon memories. What happened to her? What happened to her parents?
Her heart skipped a beat when she pressed into the scar. There was something hard beneath the press of her finger. It was tiny, almost imperceptible. Her throat became tight when she realized what that meant. There was something inside of the small scar. How had she not noticed it before? She’d always thought that the surgery had been to fix something. Maybe she’d broken a bone or suffered a deep cut when her parents tried to protect her from the dragons that killed them.
Swallowing hard, she wrapped a towel around her body and went in search of something sharp. She was sick of her questions remaining unanswered as she blindly followed orders. She needed things to be out in the open if she was going to keep going forward with everything Wilson asked of her. That meant she needed to know what was in her arm.
It had been there for over thirty years. Her stomach turned when she thought about what it was going to take to get it out of her. It was still close to the skin, she thought, since she could feel it with the tip of her finger. It would only take a small incision from a sharp knife.
After claiming a tactical knife from her bedroom, she returned to sit on the edge of the bathtub. She held the tip of the knife to her skin and waited for her heart beat to calm before pressing it in. The pain was sharp and hot. It was nothing compared to what the woman she shot must have felt, she told herself. Pain is nothing.
The sharp knife slid across her skin. The skin parted and welled with red blood. It was nothing new to her. She’d seen her fair share of cuts and bruises and broken bones in the line of duty. Sucking in a shaky breath, she reached for the tweezers next to the sink. Dipping them in rubbing alcohol just to be safe, she paused, knowing how much this was going to hurt.
The thing that she pulled from her shaking arm made her heart stop.
It clattered to the floor, leaving a trail of blood as it skittered across the white floor. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. She didn’t want to admit what it meant.
Her stomach rolled and she stumbled toward the toilet before she dry heaved. There was nothing inside of her stomach to throw up, but that didn’t stop her fear from causing contractions in her diaphragm. Tears slipped down her cheek.
No.
Rhiannon felt something inside of her stretch and fill imaginary space in her mind. She caught flashes of scales and dark, gold eyes.
This wasn’t right.
She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and turned toward the implant laying on the floor. With a shaking hand, she reached for it. The tiny strip of silver was engraved with delicate knot work. The other side had the name of a medical company on it.
Silver. There had been a silver implant in her skin.
A voice growled in her head as she looked at the implant. Rhiannon scrambled to her feet. She ran from the room, but the growl followed her. It was inside of her.
This could not mean what she thought it meant. There was no way.
She was a dragon.
***
Gareth sank into the folding lawn chair on Rhiannon’s back porch. There was nowhere else he could go that would get him closer to the problem at hand. If she hadn’t already enacted their foolish attack, then if he stayed close by he would know when it did happen. At the very least, he would keep her out of it altogether.
He was oddly concerned with her safety, no matter how much she brushed him off. She was a tough and faultlessly loyal woman, but he didn’t know if anyone had ever looked out for her before. He felt as though her boss led her into hell simply because she would follow blindly.
His head shot up when he heard the sliding door open. Standing in the doorway, white as a sheet and smeared with blood, was a haggard looking Rhiannon. He lurched to his feet, sending the folding chair tumbling backward. He raced to her, hands already searching for the source of the blood.
The Dragon's Mate Page 27
