The knowledge that she was his mate had made him want to pull her into his arms and drag her to this realm. His boorishness had been a lesser evil in comparison to that.
Grimacing, he bent his head and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
She moaned, making him freeze.
Those sparkling, twinkling eyelashes fluttered again until the ice white slash that was her nightwalker’s pupil was visible.
Fear flushed across her features, then, as she saw him, truly saw him, she sucked in a deep breath and he felt her calm.
“We are mated then?” she asked, her voice hoarse.
“Need you ask?” he replied gently, a faint smile curling his lips, one she joined him in.
“That was certainly an experience.”
“One way of putting it,” he told her, quirking his brow in response. “How do you feel?”
She closed her eyes. “Strange.”
“In a good or a bad way?”
“Like I’ve been run over by a truck but as light as a feather too.”
“Well, that’s contradictory,” he teased.
She popped an eye open and glared at him. “What happened to Mr. Grouch?”
“He found his leman. No need to be grouchy anymore.”
“Did you just call me a citrus fruit? No way in hell am I letting you call me that in front of my coven.”
Her haughty retort had his lips twitching. Spelling out the word, he told her, “It’s Dragonspeak for mate.”
She rolled her eyes. “Then enunciate it better. Last thing I need is a power struggle because I let my mate give me cutesy love names.”
He snorted. “Since when was ‘lemon’ cutesy? Hell, when was it ever a love name?”
She pouted. “You know what I mean.” She struggled in his arms then grunted. “Let me up.”
“No. You’re still weak.”
“I’m in charge of my own body, buster. If I tell it to be strong, it will be.”
He eyed her a second then seeing her stubbornness, shrugged. “Alright then. You know best.”
She shot him a triumphant look, which immediately faded when his arms dropped to his sides so he was no longer supporting her. Her head rushed toward the ground, as did her legs.
He raised his hands at the last millisecond and tugged her against his chest. “Trust the male who has heard about this moment from all mated males for the past millennia.”
She whimpered. “Jesus, my head.”
“I know, that was cruel of me, dearling, but you’re stubborn. As are all female Sanguen,” he grumbled ruefully. “Better to show you rather than tell.”
She blinked up at him. “I guess I deserved that.”
“Perhaps. Your body is reacting to the mate bond’s activation. It will take a few days for you to be ready to do even the basics.”
She gawked at him in horror. “Are you being serious?”
He grimaced. “Yes.”
She hissed out a breath, glowered at him, and as he feared a tongue lashing—one of the parts of her that sadly was not affected by her reaction to his beast—she softened in his arms.
“It is not how I believed it would be.”
Her gentle whisper had him blinking. “The mate bond?”
She nodded. “I never thought on it. Never had reason to. I believed after all these years of being alone, that was it. No hope. I-I didn’t...”
“Why would you?” he asked, equally as kindly. “The bond between dragon and Sanguenna is something we keep a close secret.”
“Why?”
“Because there is little point in disclosing it,” came the truthful reply. “There is no rhythm or rhyme as to why you came into heat when a Sanguenna older than you did not. There is no rhythm or rhyme as to why your awakening would stir me and not another male.
“There are so few of you, and so many of us waiting. It is an untenable situation. The very worst.”
His impassioned reply pained her, but she had to ask, “What do you mean by ‘stir’?”
He eyed her. “I’d been asleep for a while. It kills the boredom of the passage of time.”
“For how long?”
He blew out a breath, his wariness more evident now. “Two centuries.”
Her mouth dropped open in astonishment, and she belted out a laugh. “No wonder you had no idea what a happy dance was.”
“Nay. And you will have to show me. I find myself curious as to these remarks you make.”
“When my hands and feet are on board, buddy, you’ll be the first to know how to throw some happy dance shapes.” She couldn’t stop herself from chuckling again. “This is crazy.”
“This being the situation?”
She smirked. “What else?” Then, she shook her head in wonder. “Your hair is so dark. It’s like the light won’t pass through it. Your scales weren’t dark, though. They were iridescent.”
“We are no color,” he told her. “Our scales shift with the light. It’s a form of camouflage.”
That had her hooting. “Because it’s easy to hide a ten-ton beastie.” A snort escaped her before she could contain it. “Camouflage, my ass.”
Remy studied her a second, bemused by her light-heartedness.
“What’s wrong, lizard boy?” she asked him, cocking a brow at what must have been his evident confusion.
He scowled at the nickname. “That is worse than lemon for a love endearment,” he complained, and then, when she just giggled, he continued mournfully, “You’re taking this far more cheerfully than I’d anticipated.”
Laughter burst from her. “What? You wanted me to start weeping? Screaming at the horrors the fates have handed me?”
“No, of course not,” he spluttered. Horrors?
“Then make up your mind.” She pursed her lips. “Inside, fear not, I’m quaking. My entire world just shifted on its axis, and I have no idea when any kind of normalcy is likely to make a comeback.
“On the other hand, you’re ridiculously cute, and the way I felt when I saw your beast is certainly something I want to feel again. Just, without the passing out part at the end. Plus, regardless of whether you’re a pain in the ass or not, what paranormal being doesn’t want to find that one person who they won’t want to kill after being together for a couple of centuries?”
He stared at her a second, once again bemused by her rather unique take on things. “You warm me with your romantic musings, Mia,” he ended up imparting.
“I never said I was a romantic, Remy,” she denied. “If anything, I’m a pragmatist. I never asked for this, yet I’ve been granted this gift. And yeah, I view you as the gift I know you see me as. That’s a start.” She frowned at him. “The other lemans...they make more of a fuss?”
“From tales I’ve heard, yea.”
“How can they when they’re fucking paralyzed?” she demanded, seemingly astonished by his remark.
He winced at her cursing. “As with you, their tongues are not comatose.”
She narrowed her gaze at him, then let out a hearty laugh. “Lucky for you I’m not a ball buster then, eh?”
He had no idea what a ‘ball buster’ was, but by the sounds of it, he’d escaped such a fate by his leman’s own admission.
“So, what are we gonna do?” she demanded. “Sit in this cavern all day?”
“Until you’re ready to fly. Then, we’ll head to my own cave. I can manage to fly that distance but little further.”
Her eyes flared wide. “Please tell me your cave is nicer than this crack in the wall?”
For the first time, his grin came freely. “I don’t think you’ll be disappointed.”
Chapter Four
We should have gone to Scotland.
As the air whistled through her hair, Mia tried not to look down, up, right, or left. In fact, she’d have closed her eyes if the wind didn’t seem intent on blasting against the lids and forcing them apart.
Suspended between her dragon’s claws was not her ideal method of transportation. She’
d thought cars were bad...they were nothing in comparison to this.
Oh, he’d told her that when she was better, when her limbs weren’t limp rags that did nothing more than flop around aimlessly, she could sit astride him. Ride him, even. Most lemans even had saddles, he’d assured her.
That didn’t help her now, though, did it? Dammit.
She had no idea how long they’d been flying, just knew she was cold, miserable, and her limbs were starting to come back online with an irritating buzz that spoke of onset pins and needles.
Oh, the joys.
With her bitchy frame of mind starting to piss even her off, she tried to shake it off.
Tonight was a good night.
Sure, she’d had to travel two hours by car, had had her senses implode in a conflagration of heat she’d never forget, and was now being dangled through the sky as a dragon flew her to her new home—a cavern of all things—but she had a mate now.
Yeah, he might make demands, and he could very likely get on her nerves, but he was hers.
For the first time in two hundred and twenty-four years, she wasn’t alone. The sensation was rather disturbing.
Decisions would be a shared task now.
Opinions would have to be weighed and measured before being shared.
To a creature used to being the boss, the next few months were going to be very interesting.
It was probably a good job Vampires were impossible to kill. Unless Remy decided to tip her out of their cave at high noon, only the sun would butcher her, not the drop.
Still, the drop wouldn’t be pleasant either. She clenched her eyes tighter, at the thought of his claws releasing her by mistake. What happened if he had a scratch on his nose? Or he got cramp in the bizarre finger-like digits that were tipped with craggy talons?
He held her like she was the finest treasure the world had ever known, but that didn’t stop a body from doing what it had to do.
You could guaran-damn-tee a sneeze when you had to be quiet. And a coughing fit, though never convenient, was always more probable in the middle of a busy restaurant with people glaring at you.
Not that she sneezed or coughed. But Brady did. And he tended to do it at irritating moments.
She guessed dragons would have similar body functions. Their other halves were distressingly human with human qualities and irritations.
The thought took her mind off her plight for a moment as she wondered just what bodily functions they had in common. Before she could dwell on it overlong, she felt the strokes of his wings through the air change. The sway of his body also shifted, becoming less smooth and jerkier as though he was braking.
She opened her eyes to see if there was some kind of dwelling before her, but when she saw nothing but rock, she sighed.
She’d been hoping for one of those little houses on the tip of the mountains she’d seen after passing through the portal.
Instead, he hadn’t been jerking her around. He did live in a cavern.
Sighing with disgust as he headed for a smooth strip of rock that she supposed acted like a runway, she closed her eyes again, desperate to not see the earth rushing up against her. That was one way to bring on travel sickness, and she’d already passed out in front of him, was currently enduring a bizarre paralysis of the nervous system, and the last thing she wanted was for him to hold her hair as she puked.
That was if she could even puke.
She’d never done it before, but then, she’d never had reason to.
As the ground rushed toward them, evident from the change in air swells, the movement of his wings had turned jerky. She felt her stomach start to gurgle. Just as she feared she could puke, he landed.
The jostle shot through her limbs, sending sparks of electricity down to each extremity. The pins and needles that had seemed to be onset, were very much on. She yelled as they buzzed up and down her body like a wave of electricity intent on fucking with her nerve endings.
Her yell turned into a yowl. “Oh my God,” she cried out then whimpered when the beast carefully placed her on the ground, and within seconds, Remy towered over her.
“Mia?” he demanded, getting down on his knees. “What’s wrong?”
“Pins and needles,” she gasped, closing her eyes against his beauty. It just wasn’t fucking fair that in the first few hours of being mated to him, for-freakin’-ever, he’d seen her utterly discombobulated. So uncomposed that it was shameful.
Tears pricked her eyes. The one male for whom she wanted to look beautiful, she was a train wreck.
“Dearling,” he whispered softly. “Why are you crying?”
“Because I’m a mess,” she gulped out, wincing as the wave of mini electric shocks seemed to hit a peak before finally settling down.
He sighed. “If you are, then it is my fault.”
There was no arguing with that. She popped open an eye to glare at him and closed it, as misery welled inside her as the pins and goddamn needles started up again.
“Come, a hot bath will ease your aches.”
“Only if you intend on getting in with me. I can’t drown but being held under water for an hour isn’t pleasant either.”
He frowned at her. “Why would I drown you?”
“Duh, lizard boy. I can’t sit up by myself. I’d sink under the surface.”
He smirked. “I wasn’t unaware of this, sweetling,” he told her silkily. “But I had feared you wouldn’t appreciate my presence in the bathing chamber.”
She huffed as he lifted her into his arms like she weighed nothing. From this height, she took a second to peer around the clearing. Rock, rock, and more rock.
It didn’t matter if it was the pretty, glittery stuff. It was all mountain.
She was going to live in a mountain. Literally in it.
After years of the hippest neighborhood in Manhattan, she was going to dwell in a cave like a monster in a scary story.
As he lugged her down a small path, which had been worn down over the years, she lifted her arms and hung them around his neck. When she did, their eyes caught.
“They’re working again!” she cried out, relief filling her at finally having sensation back in her upper body.
He smiled. “I told you it wouldn’t last long.”
She concentrated hard on her feet. “I think they’re coming back online,” she told him, scowling down at her Louboutin-shod feet. The boots covered her from toe to calf—no amount of staring was going to help her see her toes.
“I’m sure they are, dearling,” he told her soothingly, as he ducked his head, and they wandered into a shadowy hole in the wall.
She shuddered. Creature of the night, she may be, but she was used to the finer things in life.
If he wanted her to live here, then the ‘front door’ needed some major work. As did the rest of the place if grunge, caveman-serial killer’s-paradise was his idea of interior decoration.
Dreading what she was about to find, she blinked as they walked down a tunnel, which had a light glowing at the other end.
Faintly relieved, she lifted her nose as she scented a bizarre odor. It was salty and sweet, somehow tinged with ‘green’. She knew colors didn’t smell, but the freshness in the air was astonishing. The deeper down the tunnel they passed, it should have gotten murkier and danker. Instead, it got lighter. The air felt cleaner.
When they made it to the end, Remy murmured, “Our home, my leman.”
So saying, he turned so that she could see the cavern before her. And what she saw, surprised the shit out of her.
Open plan had nothing on this baby.
The size of a football pitch, at least, from one end to another there was something that grabbed her attention.
From the honest to God hot springs to the east, to the wall of flowers to the west. North housed shelf upon shelf of books. South, by the tunnel, was home to a seating area the size of a basketball pitch. If that didn’t stun the shit out of her, bang in the middle was a huge pile of treasure.
> She gawked at it then gawked harder. “What the hell is that?” she squeaked.
“My bed,” he told her easily, stepping inside now she’d had the chance to look around.
“Your bed?” she squeaked again. “You sleep on diamonds and rubies? Have you any idea what that bed is worth?”
He shrugged dismissively. “Wealth matters not in this realm.”
“Doesn’t it?” she retorted. “I’d never have guessed.” She shook her head in astonishment. “Isn’t it uncomfortable?”
“Not in my other form. That’s how I sleep usually.”
“I’m not sleeping on lumpy gems.” Then, she winced at her shrewish tone. She really wasn’t trying to be a pain in the ass, but somehow, that wasn’t working out too well for her. Ruefully, she confessed, “I’m sorry about all the shrieking. This is coming as a pretty big shock.”
His lips twitched. “Fear not, dearling. We’re all entitled to a stay of grace.”
The wicked twinkle in his eye had her grinning. “I think I might like you, mate.”
His smile grew, and it was tinged with pride. “I think I might like you, leman.”
They stared at each other for a handful of seconds until that strange heat started to gather between them. He broke the connection by looking away, clearing his throat, and as he strode toward the eastern side of the cavern, gallantly announced, “I promised you a bath, leman.”
“I didn’t realize it would be in my own personal hot spring.”
His lips twitched. “Any dragon over the age of five hundred knows life is unbearable in a cavern without a hot spring.”
Her eyes widened at that. “Just how old are you? I mean, you mentioned the Vikings, for God’s sake.”
He grimaced. “Too old for you, dearling. But I’m keeping you,” he teased, holding her tighter to his chest.
“I feel like the deal is sealed. So, no take backs. No matter how much we piss each other off,” she retorted, teasing him right back. Good for the goose and all that.
His grin told her he liked her spunk—good job. She didn’t know how to be any other way.
“I can’t believe this is your home,” she stuttered as she passed a chaise longue that looked like it belonged in the Moulin Rouge. Beneath it lay a glorious Persian rug. As she glanced around, she saw more delightful rugs, obviously ancient and worn in areas of heavy traffic. It added warmth and color to the massive space.
Christmas: Dragon Style (The Sanguenna Chronicles Book 1) Page 4
