by Missy Lyons
The small fact that she would trade anything to kill Drake McAllister, even her life.
Her father falling in love with her mother, but her mother's family would never let her leave. So he abducted her, to keep her until she loved him enough to marry him. Isn't that just like a pirate? Alyssa had always thought the idea terribly romantic. But in the end he had made amends and tried to do the right thing. After her death, he came back to the small island where he took her from and made his home. He set up his offices for the West Indies Trading company.
Her father had raised Alyssa to be a bit too strong-willed and sassy for a lady of society. He had tried to correct the error of his ways after he secured his fortune by piracy. She spent the last year at Miss Montgomery's Finishing School for Ladies, in the south of France, before returning to the Island of Sky upon hearing of her father's death.
Alyssa had not met her mother's family yet. Alyssa wondered idly if things like this happened to all of them. Are curses and bad luck handed down through the generations, like some kind of hereditary disease? There was a certain unexplained power that surrounded her. Strange things just happened. Especially when she was emotionally charged, highly upset or felt physically threatened, like now.
The truth was out. It should stop him from any further plans of seduction.
Xanther accepted all that she gave him in silence, before crossing the small space to her.
He surprised her yet again when he reached for her hands. Alyssa had not remembered such tenderness for a long time. Not since her mother died. Her father loved her, but he wasn't one to get emotional or throw hugs around too freely.
It hurt less to be hardened. A pirate doesn't cry. A warrior doesn't weep. Those were not tears that threatened to overflow Alyssa Hawkins’ eyes.
"Are you really all alone in this world?"
"The Elisaid are my family now."
"No, I mean your real family. What about your parents?"
"My parents are both dead."
"I am sorry to hear that. It is one of the hardest losses to bear, losing your parents. It would have been easier for you if your mother had lived. She was a kind woman and would have taught you about your heritage."
"At least I had my father. He told me about my mother many times. Did you know my mother? You speak of her as if you knew her."
"I didn't, but I have heard of her kidnapping. She has been talked about from time to time. There was hope she had children. You are extremely lucky they didn't find her. Your father would have been killed if they had been found together. But while it mattered, we never knew who stole her away."
"They loved each other."
"It doesn't matter now. She died so young. It's why you don't know who you are."
"I know who I am. I am Alyssa Hawkins. I am a pirate's daughter and an Elisaid warrior and proud of it."
"Well, you can add one more title to the notches on your belt, Alyssa. That mark is not a mark of a servant or a slave. You have magic in your blood and it is not druid magic. Your mother gave you the gift of dragon blood."
Alyssa surmised from his face he was not joking, and shock froze her in place. His expression was far too serious. Dragon? As in wings? Scales? Fire? Hah!
"So your life servants are really dragons?"
"It is necessary to separate ourselves to live peaceably along with humans. Certain freedoms have to be limited for the safety of the clan. If we live and work together, it also limits the need for servants who would betray us. We have been hunted too long."
"I think you are mistaken."
"Don't deny me, Alyssa."
"Dragons? You can't be serious! My breath may be bad at times, but I have never breathed fire.” She laughed, trying to make light of his words.
He didn't seem to find her joke funny. He wasn't smiling when he reached for a stray curl, allowing his knuckles to graze her jaw, twirling the curl beneath his fingers.
Alyssa sighed in resignation, closing her eyes, surrendering to the delicious waves of sensations. What had come over her lately? When he touched her, it was like her brain went on an extended sabbatical. His touch caused a chain reaction.
She wanted to melt into him. He could say she was a fairy and she wouldn't care if he continued to touch her. Something had changed inside of her. Even in her denial she remembered the fire she had caused only hours ago. He called it the heat. Was that some kind of dragon thing?
Xanther was fascinated by the woman in front of him. He had misjudged her. He expected denial, fighting, perhaps even a tantrum. Yet she didn't run. She accepted his touch, even after being told her legacy. Her eyes lightened from dark chocolate to a golden color. She was completely unaware of how much he desired her. Even of her own body that drove her to accept him as her mate.
"Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” his voice purred. Xanther had dreamed of the day he would be joined with his life mate. The day his soul would cry out to be permanently joined by another. Now, here was his perfect match. Smart, beautiful, with such an independent fire and spirit. A mate that called to his deepest fantasies and she didn't know who, or more importantly what, she was.
Did she have the courage to accept who she was? Could she accept him as well?
Xanther lowered his hand to cover her heart, just above her breast. He could feel her heart quicken. Alyssa felt a slow lingering heat radiate from his touch. A fire began to unfold, not unlike what she felt on the trail.
"I feel beautiful when you look at me like that."
"Do you feel the fire, Alyssa?” His eyes danced, daring her to deny heat between them, the building pressure in her secret places.
"Fire? Like a volcano. I get hot the moment you come near me."
She wanted to feel him kiss her. She stepped closer into his embrace, driven by her own fierce ardor. An excitement she had not known was waking within her. She tilted her head up at him, silently requesting he kiss her.
Xanther wanted more than a kiss. He wanted to taste her, breathe her in, set her on fire, to take all of her in, feel her flesh writhing below him again, with a hunger that only he could sate.
He could just take her. Feed her hunger; drive her passions further until it ended in ecstasy. He knew she desired him. He could awaken her inner beast to drive her to a frenzied point where she was dizzy from the mating heat. He knew she would surrender her body to him if he seduced her.
But there was no honor in that.
Xanther groaned, pulling her close to him. He enjoyed just holding her, while he let his words sink in. He breathed her in, smelling her scent.
She smelled of need, and her desire singed him. Her innocence surprised him. She didn't even know she was coming into heat. A time when she would pick her mate.
Instinctively, she offered herself, baring her neck. Not one to deny what was freely offered, Xanther dipped low to accept her gift. He tasted her skin. Sweet, salty, a hint of sulfur and smoke. She was all that he wanted and more. His tongue flicked over the skin at her neck, moving down to the sensitive hollow in her throat, and he sucked the skin lightly there. He allowed his teeth to just graze slightly over the sensitized skin.
She whimpered before arching into him. He liked how her body responded to him like a well-tuned instrument, but still he needed more. He needed her to understand that she was his.
"This heat between us is special.” His voice was husky and low.
"Heat ... Oh yes, just give me more."
"Did you know when you bare your neck like that,” It drives me crazy, he added silently, “it is how a woman of your kind calls to her mate?"
With the lack of his mouth, the haze around her mind was a little clearer. Alyssa could focus more on his words.
"It is a symbol of trust.” His fingers brushed her neck ever so slightly before continuing. “It is the most vulnerable site of our body. Dragons spend lives searching for the other half of their soul. A few settle for something less, preferring it to the loneliness. When we find our mate, we mate
for life.
"You are my mate, Alyssa. Do you feel it?"
Alyssa shook her head in silent denial. If he didn't add that dragon part, it would have been perfect. A man to count on for life. Someone to love forever. The man could tempt the devil. To be loved forever? That would satisfy her deepest fantasies.
Pleasure and logic warred and logic was winning. It was impossible. What he was saying was so fantastic it was ludicrous. Still, she wanted to believe it. Just the idea of loving him for a lifetime. It would be wonderful! His words made her want to throw her body at the man. She only wished it was true.
What was this? Some twisted idea of a fairy tale? Happily ever after ... As a dragon?
Xanther held her close, allowing him to smell her scents. He smelled her fear, her denial. But he also smelled her desire. In time, her desire would overcome her fear. It would take awhile, but she would accept him. It pleased him to know this. He hoped he had the patience to wait.
"Dragons go into heat, when they find their life mate."
"Dragons?” It felt as if she had been immersed in ice water. The drugged effects of her mind suddenly clearing.
"You are mine, Alyssa."
"No,” she whispered in a shaky voice.
"You belong to me."
"I'm not sure I understand what you are telling me.” This time her voice was steadier and not nearly as shaky.
"Don't understand or don't want to believe? Is it so impossible to just accept things we can't see as truth? Magic is like that. What will it take to make you believe?"
"It is inconceivable."
"It is easily deduced and the logical solution, if you allow yourself to open to the possibility. Just how many times have you called on fire? Like back on the mountain pass with me?"
Xanther knew one of the quickest ways to make her believe would be to turn dragon himself. It would make her believe or run from him forever. He didn't want to lose the shaky ground he gained today. He never wanted to see fear in her eyes from what he was, and didn't trust her yet ready to accept all of it.
"Never,” she lied. The fire was never quite like that, but at least four times, she could remember where fire was mysteriously started near her.
"I could help you with your magic."
"The Elisaid couldn't help. How can you?"
"Because we are one in the same."
"What kind of magic does a dragon have?"
"It's not in spells or potions or reading the future. It's in the elements, the earth, the air, the wind, and fire."
"Dragons are myths,” Alyssa said firmly as if the words would make him see the truth. “Fairy tales that live only in children's dreams and story books. I know from experience that the happily ever after is a fairy tale too. So I don't want to hear you making false promises. I gave up the idea of love a long time ago."
Xanther fought his rising temper. Now she was denying him as a man? Would she deny the desire to mate with him as well?
She was a stubborn woman, but not stupid or completely ignorant of magic. He knew she just needed time to mull over what he said. He had known it wouldn't be easy. She was raised as human, unaware of her instincts, not even knowing her true form. In time she would accept who she was, and him. But he wasn't sure he was as patient as he needed to be.
"Most dragons have the ability to speak with animals. Have you heard voices in your head? I know you have heard the voices. You hear mine. It is because your magic is inside of you. Compulsion is how we hunt and it gets the animal to do as we wish. Do horses spook when you try to ride them? Or have you learned how to do compulsion on them yet?"
How could he know about that? Alyssa had never been able to climb onto a horse without it trying to throw her, and the voices, well ... Alyssa had been told to ignore the voices as a child. Her father had thought her crazy. Her father had told her to never tell anyone about the animals, lest they condemn her to living in a sanitarium. Still what had he said about compulsion?
"Don't deny it.” Because when you deny it, you are denying me, he added silently.
"No.” She fought to escape his embrace, pushing at his hard chest, but he would not release her.
Neither would he relent. “Have you turned yet?"
"I don't know what you mean by turn, you oaf. In fact...” She paused, looking up at him, biting back her fierce temper. Her eyes raised to meet his quizzically under his unrelenting gaze. “I don't even think I know what you meant by heat! When you said I was going into heat.... Just what did you mean?"
"You are going into a mating heat—it's an invitation to lay a claim. Your body recognizes me as your mate, even if you won't admit it yet."
"So that is what you meant when you said I was in heat? Oh my God!"
Alyssa did not wait for his reply before her temper took over.
"You scurvy scuttlebutt! You black hearted son of a.... “He felt something prick him sharply in his stomach, as he listened to his mate curse him using words that would make a sailor blush, first in English than in French, then again in English. “...if you ever think to touch me again, I will carve out your liver and feed it to the sharks!"
Truly she was not thinking when she pulled her blade. Incensed, her mind lacked the usual finesse or clearness to escape. Her anger was fueled by his ever increasing gentleness. He cradled her tenderly, all the while assaulting her with this unbelievable poppycock.
Well, that wasn't exactly a tenderness she saw in his face now. His eyes had grown darker by a shade or two. The lines to his face had hardened. No, if there was a dragon, she had just unlocked the beast from within his cage.
That last part about how he explained when she went into such a frenzied state. A mating heat, he had called it. The idea of it possibly being true terrified her. The odds of it being true were higher than she wanted to admit. Oh God, the things I wanted to do to him! Now she feared she had been pushed into doing something stupid.
From that wicked glint in his eye, he wasn't going to release her even with a knife in his gut. She was in a stalemate. She didn't want to hurt him. He wasn't backing down either. He hadn't released her, and she could feel the knife tipping into his flesh, ever so slightly. The knife pressed hard enough to cause a prick of blood, some slight pain, maybe even a little fear in someone more average. None of which was evident in his expression.
He wasn't even breathing hard. His breathing was slow and controlled. Not a trace of emotion. In comparison, her own breath came fast and hard as if she had been running.
She feared what would happen if she had given into the wakes of pleasure, the sizzling heat that had threatened to overwhelm her. Was it possible she could lose herself to him? Somehow she feared she would never be the same if she accepted his love, even if she could accept his words as true. Dragon? Bah!
"Release me!"
He hesitated before releasing her, but she didn't drop the knife. She could feel his displeasure as well as his temper rise. She was not about to back down now. She could be just as stubborn and irritating as he could.
"You won't hurt me."
"Try me."
"It's impossible for you to kill me. Just as I would never hurt you."
"It is possible to kill you. Maybe you should change that to not allowed, or not tolerable, but it is possible. Even if you call yourself a dragon, you will bleed as any other man does."
"Then kill me, Alyssa. Can you kill me because you want to kill me?” His strong hand wrapped around hers on the handle of the blade. She felt him push her hand and the knife into his flesh. Suddenly an acute pain stabbed her heart, snaking through her body clear to the blade in her hand. She drew back, shrinking from his cruel trick. The burning sensation in her hand forced the knife to drop from her hand.
"Do you want me dead so much?” he hissed.
Alyssa was trembling, shaking her head silently in denial. She wouldn't resort to tears. It was impossible, what she was feeling.
"No."
"Then why fight so hard?"
; "Just leave me alone, please.” She heard him leave just before she tasted the first of what she wouldn't admit as tears.
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Chapter 8
When she asked him to leave, she didn't mean it. She didn't want him to see her cry, but she also didn't want to be left alone to deal with this kind of pain, or heartache. Now she felt so alone and the power of her emotions hit her like a tidal wave.
Alyssa walked to the bed in the corner and collapsed there, curling up in a fetal position. Finally, she let loose the tears and the emotions she had barricaded within her. She cried for herself, for her father, she cried for the mother she had never known.
It was not fair. This world was so cruel. If only her father was alive today, how differently her life may now be. She might have been betrothed to some gentleman in England, by now, a business partner of her father's perhaps.
She would have a family of her own, lead a simpler life. She could have had a house near the ocean, perhaps a pleasure ship docked on the pier. She would have had lived a life that she liked. Life should be nothing like this.
I hate my life.
Distantly she heard thunder growl in the heavens. A storm was gathering above her and soon Xanther would be seeking the shelter of the tent; it was his tent. But she couldn't stop sobbing, the flood of emotions wracking her body. She wiped her nose with her sleeve, wishing she could stop the crying, stop this self pity, but all of her pent up emotions came flowing out.
She felt a sharp pressure threatening to crush her chest. Her breath was already ragged from crying so hard. Alyssa retreated into her mind, ignoring the physical pain and the gathering storm. It wasn't her fault.
She was locked in self-pity, and the thunder grew louder. The storm clouds were now directly overhead, the dark clouds bringing night early. The winds pushed against the walls of the tent. It was probably Alyssa's fault; she knew what happened when she released her emotions, but the grey black sorrow had locked onto her and she could not escape it now. She felt the weight of the world on her shoulders—she was always responsible, always logical, and never irrational or emotional.
