by Alisa Woods
Did she really want to walk into all that?
But her father was one of the most powerful witches in the city. Even if he wouldn’t help her, he might know someone who would.
“You don’t need to be afraid,” Cinaed said, his voice low as he stood patiently by her side. They were just out of line-of-sight of the receptionist inside the door of Urban Damon, holding back while Rosalyn got her bearings.
“They’re powerful witches,” she said, given him a sideways look. “I’d be crazy not to be afraid.”
Cinaed smirked. “I wouldn’t recommend going in without me if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m no prince of the House of Smoke with magical fae powers, but—”
“Wait, what?” She frowned. “I thought you guys were just dragons.”
His smirk gentled into a smile. “I’m an ordinary dragon, but the House of Smoke’s royal blood contains fae magic. Even I don’t know the extent of their powers, but the long-ago union between the Queen of the Summer Court and a devilishly handsome dragon resulted in fae-enhanced magical blood that still pumps through their veins.”
Rosalyn lifted her eyebrows. No wonder her mom healed so fast.
Cinaed tipped his head. “Though I’m merely a blue dragon, fear not, my lady. Every dragon has access to stronger magic than even the most powerful of witches. You’re safe with me. But I’m guessing that’s not why we’re still standing in the hall.”
Heat rushed to her face. “No, you’re right. So what if my warlock of a dad threw me out when I was ten, and he’s moved on with his life to a new mate and some other kids? This is just business, right? I’ve got something to offer him.” She gestured to her purse of dragon blood—Leonidas’s blood. Not only dragon blood but apparently part fae. And she would use it to save Leonidas—or at least try. “My father should recognize a good deal when he sees it.”
Cinaed nodded. “As you wish, my lady.”
She scowled at him. “Seriously, what is it with this my lady business? You really need to knock that off.”
He grinned. “Yes, my lady.”
Her shoulders dropped. “Oh, for the love of—”
The ding of the elevator interrupted her. Rosalyn had a surge of crazy irrational fear it might be her father, all of a sudden, appearing out of nowhere… but it was just Leksander.
He shuffled out of the elevator in a weird way, throwing a glance behind him.
Cinaed looked a little panicked. “My lord, I didn’t realize you were—”
Leksander cut him off with a wave of his hand, then he looked to Rosalyn with an intense expression. “What are you doing here?”
She clutched her purse to her chest—would he try to stop her? That didn’t make any sense. “I’m just trying to help Leonidas.”
Leksander scowled and threw another look behind him to the empty hallway. What was that about? Then he turned back to her. “You might want to ask him first.”
Then, out of thin air, a giant dragon filled the hallway.
Rosalyn shrieked and stumbled back. Her legs quivered, suddenly weak. Cinaed caught her before she fell.
“It’s all right, my lady,” he whispered in a calm voice.
She wrenched out of his hold and backed up even further. What the hell was this? Were they going to feed her to him? Was this all a setup? Her heart was pounding out of her chest.
It was definitely Leonidas in his wyvern form, glistening with bronzed scales, rough with ridges that protruded from his head. Long daggers for teeth. A tail that flicked back and forth, alternately screeching against the metal of the elevator and scraping lines into the wallboard on the opposite side of the hall. There was no sense in running. He could lunge and snap her in half before she got three steps.
She finally found her voice. “What the fuck?”
Rosalyn, it’s just me, a voice said inside her head.
“Ah!” Her body jerked. Holy fuck! She balled up her fists and glared at Cinaed. “What’s going on?” she demanded.
I’m right here, Rosalyn. And if I wanted to hurt you, you’d already be dead before I decloaked. The words bounced around inside her head, but the tall, bronze dragon at the end of the hallway didn’t move. He just stood there, his long serpentine neck bumping his head against the ceiling. He lowered it, so his eyes were at the same level as hers.
His eyes. They were the same brilliant blue, alive with intelligence and humor and smoldering sexiness. The same eyes that gazed into hers through a long night of lovemaking. That shudder of recognition—seeing the man inside the beast, even just for a second—left her feeling dizzy. She leaned a hand against the glass wall entrance to Urban Damon.
“Are you reading my mind?” she asked. Could he tell she had seen him—truly seen him? Inside. The contrast between seeing him like this and knowing he was trapped inside but still the same man who made love to her… it left her even more unsteady than the mindreading.
No, but I imagine you regret answering that WildLove ad right about now.
A smile fought its way onto her face, just a small one, but somehow it washed the dizziness away. And the residual fear. “It wasn’t all bad.”
His head bobbed up and down, and the small huffing sound that came out of him… was this how dragons laughed? She watched, fascinated, as a small tendril of blue fire drifted from his nostrils. He was truly frightening to look at—all gnarled ridges and razor-sharp talons gripping the carpet—but there was a certain magical beauty about him. The bronzed scales that gleamed with an amazing luster in the natural light. The elegant curve of his neck. The enormous power of his body, dominating the hallway yet holding back. It was held back, she realized, only by the kind-hearted intellect of the mind inside.
Rosalyn pushed away from the glass and edged forward. Leonidas’s intelligent blue eyes locked with hers as she slowly stepped toward him.
“My lady, I don’t think—” But Cinaed was cut off by another handwave from Leksander.
She only noticed them out of the corner of her eye because she was locked into a staring match with Leonidas. His eyes went wider, and he leaned back as she approached, but he had nowhere to go—he was at the end of the hallway, up against the window.
When she got closer, she couldn’t hold his gaze any longer—he was too tall. She stepped up to his body and slowly reached out a hand to the shimmering bronzed scales of his skin. “You’re so warm.” The words were a breath as much as speech.
She felt something rumble inside of him, but she wasn’t afraid. Strangely, not at all.
Dragon blood has a certain fiery quality to it. His words were calm in her mind, but she could feel the shudder going through his body.
She backed up so she could see his face again. His snout was out of reach. He just looked at her outstretched hand for a long moment, then slowly dipped his head down. She avoided the dagger teeth that protruded from his mouth like they couldn’t be contained—the tips looked as sharp as hypodermic needles. She ran her fingers along the tiny bronze scales of his face and up to the bony ridges that framed it. They were rough but burned with the same heat as the rest of his body.
A screech of metal made her jump—but it was just his tail hitting the elevator again.
I can’t tell you… Leonidas paused, and his tail stilled. I can’t tell you to stop, Sweet Rose. I don’t have it in me. But you really should… I can’t be certain… He was struggling, and she’d entirely forgotten herself. This man was in love with her, and she was tormenting him by touching him, just to satisfy her own curiosity.
She scuttled back. “I’m sorry.” But she didn’t retreat too far. She wanted him to know she wasn’t afraid of him. “But I trust you, Leonidas. You would never hurt me.”
He said nothing with that strange mindspeak in her head, just looked at her with eyes that held an ocean of sadness. Her heart was breaking anew for him.
She cleared her throat. “Why are you here?”
The real question is, why are you here, Rosalyn? He peered at her with his blue eyes. I’ve
tried a hundred ways to break the curse. It can’t be done.
She scowled at him. “Maybe the hundred-and-first try is the ticket.”
He cocked his head in an almost comical kind of way. You really want to do this?
She glanced at the still-closed door of Urban Damon. “Yes.” Then she faced him. “Although I’ll admit to being a little less nervous, now that you’re here. Cinaed says you have some fancy magical powers.”
I’ll never let anything harm you. Small dragonfire wisps leaked from his mouth.
She gave him a sharp nod. “So, we go in, and we ask for help to break the curse. I offer them your blood, and you can offer… I don’t know, protection? Not to turn them into fiery crisps?”
If they can break this curse, they would win the favor of the House of Smoke forever. Leonidas ducked his head down again, lower so he could peer into her eyes. And I want you to be the one to do the magic.
“Me?” She looked at him like he was crazy. “I don’t know anything about—”
You’re a powerful witch, Rosalyn. His mental thoughts cut her off. You’re just untrained. But you have a strong lineage behind you. You’re my best bet for tapping into that magical power you possess by birthright.
Birthright. The word resonated through her, and she had to admit it excited her. It was what she’d wanted—what she’d been fighting for all along—and if she could help Leonidas at the same time… “Okay.” She wrestled with whether that made her a terrible human being or not. But she wasn’t human—she was a witch. This was what she was meant to do.
“All right then,” Leksander said from behind her. Was he listening in on Leonidas’s thoughts? She wasn’t clear on how that worked, but the other two dragons seemed to have followed along just fine.
“After you, my lady.” Cinaed gestured to the door. “We’ll be right behind you.” He smirked and glanced at Leonidas. “Having a wild beast in our midst might help with negotiations as well.” He looked like he was ready to laugh but was holding it in.
Sweet magic, what was she getting herself into? Rosalyn squared her shoulders and held her head high as she marched to the glass doors of Urban Damon and pushed her way through.
Leonidas was clearly the heavy in this situation.
After he had scared the shit out of the receptionist, she’d summoned Rosalyn’s father—Silas Damon—from the back of the coven’s office. He’d tromped out into the reception area with arrogant fury on his face… which quickly died as soon as he saw Leonidas and his wyvern form. His bulk took up most of the well-appointed entryway to Silas’s little business. Cinaed and Leksander flanked Leonidas, slightly in front of him. Rosalyn stood in the middle, facing her father with a lifted chin and a defiant look. Leonidas only could see her from behind—that gorgeous red hair of hers tumbled down her back, hiding most of her body language. Her cute little bottom was tucked into a skirt that was short enough to reveal her long legs. That he was noticing such things… his wyvern seethed under the surface, lusting for her even more than he did as a man. Leonidas worked to repress that, shoving his wyvern deep inside so he could give Rosalyn all his focus in this moment when she faced the man who cursed her mother and threw her out as a child.
She was so brave. And he was incredibly proud of her.
Silas had finally recovered from his shock enough to speak. “What is the meaning of this?” The stench of fear was on the man. Leonidas reached out to taste the power of his magic. He was strong, just like Rosalyn’s mother—Leonidas’s read on her lineage had been true. But the ice-cold look Silas was giving his own daughter with those brilliant blue eyes, just like hers, made Leonidas want to flick his tail around and just wipe the man out. Or at least take out a chunk from somewhere.
“Hello, Father.” There wasn’t even a tremble in Rosalyn’s voice. So fucking hot. Leonidas had to wrestle against the need to go to her.
“Rosalyn.” Fear made Silas’s voice sharp and demanding, but the fact that he barely acknowledged her as a daughter was crawling underneath Leonidas’s scales. How could any man treat his own daughter this way? Leonidas couldn’t help the low growl that rumbled in his chest.
Silas flicked a worried look at him, then back to Rosalyn. “All right, I get it. You’re here, and you have some kind of demand to make with your…” He sneered in Leonidas’s direction. “Beastly friends.” He glared at her. “Out with it. What do you want?”
Rosalyn took a moment to answer, long enough for the slow curl of her delicate fingers into fists. A black despair ripped through Leonidas. All he wanted was to kick that guy’s ass then take Rosalyn into his arms and comfort her from the damage this asshole was doing—damage he had done to her over her entire life. But Leonidas was stuck in this wyvern form and could do none of that.
Not that she couldn’t handle it—he had no doubt she would—but that didn’t erase his desire to hand Silas his head.
Rosalyn finally spoke up. “I need you to teach me how to break a curse.” She glanced back at Leonidas, and just for a brief moment, he could see the fierce determination in her eyes. It made his heart swell. She carried that sweet gaze back to her father again. “Long ago, this dragon prince of the House of Smoke was cursed by a witch. It was a death curse forged with love, and it doomed him to this form. I want to undo it.”
The look of weary confusion on Silas’s face was almost comical. “What business is it of yours what happens to the dragons?” He pushed back the chin-length black hair that had fallen in front of his face.
“He helped me,” Rosalyn said, but it sounded forced. Almost angry. “I’m returning the favor.”
Silas leaned back and gave Leksander and Cinaed a pinched look. They both were still, silent with their arms crossed, their own hulking presence adding to the tension. To Rosalyn, her father said, “Your debts are not mine to pay. I owe you nothing.”
Rosalyn’s hands flexed and curled again.
That was it. Leonidas was taking a bite out of that fucking warlock.
But before he could put that thought into action, Leksander spoke up. “The House of Smoke will look favorably on your coven if you assist in this endeavor.” His voice was almost as icy as Leonidas’s cold fury. “The reverse would also be true.”
Silas’s pale face went one shade more white. “I see. So, no negotiations after all.”
“There might have been, if you weren’t such an asshole,” Cinaed said, his voice light but with a growl under it. “Hear the girl out. You’re not winning any father-of-the-year awards in this, but if you play it right, you might be able to keep your slimy little business.”
Rosalyn’s hands relaxed a little, and Leonidas wished he could speak up as well in her defense. But his function was to be the menace in the room. For the moment, he was glad his wyvern form was extra intimidating, more so even than his normal dragon.
“I see.” Silas scowled at Rosalyn. “What if it can’t be done? Dragon magic is supposed to be so powerful,” he sneered. “What makes you think I can do something they cannot?”
“There are… extenuating circumstances,” Rosalyn said, but the confidence in her voice was gone. “Anyway, what do you have to lose?”
He narrowed his eyes at Leonidas. “Apparently, quite a lot.”
Suddenly, another witch burst through the doors to the rest of the Damon coven. Her tailored suit was fire-engine red, and her black hair flowed to her waist. She was beautiful like any other witch, but the family resemblance was obvious—she must be a Damon.
Her eyes went wide with amazement, taking in Leonidas’s form filling up the room. “Holy mother of magic…” she whispered.
“Guinevere, we’re in the middle of something here,” Silas said, irritation springing to his voice.
“I heard…” She turned her amazement to Silas. “The stories are true!” When she looked back to Leonidas, her shock was quickly tempered by a burning curiosity. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit, dragon prince?”
Silas squeezed his eyes s
hut and muttered a curse under his breath.
If Leonidas could’ve laughed in dragon form—a true laugh, one that didn’t have dragonfire leaking from it—he would. Instead, he ventured to speak to her… to see if it would win her over or scare her off. My name is Leonidas Smoke, and I am a dragon prince of the House of Smoke.
Her mouth dropped open, and a light laugh escaped her before she clapped her hand over her mouth.
Silas scowled and dashed a look between her and Leonidas. “What?”
Rosalyn tossed a glance over her shoulder that said what are you doing? But there was also a smirk on her face. She turned back to Silas. “They’re telepathic when they’re in dragon form,” she informed him like this was the most casual of facts.
Silas went two shades more white. “You mean they—”
“Oh, yes,” Rosalyn said, nodding sagely. “They can definitely read your thoughts, daddy. So don’t be trying to hide anything from us. It’s not a pleasant process having your thoughts scrubbed like dirty laundry. I wouldn’t recommend tempting him to search through your mind.”
Cinaed moved a hand up to cover his mouth, no doubt to keep from busting out laughing. Leksander was holding it together pretty well. But Leonidas decided to just let loose with his huffing dragon laugh—half roar, half dragonfire, all scary as fuck.
Silas stumbled back a little and braced himself against the receptionist’s desk.
Leonidas’s laugh tempered into revulsion. This guy was a piece of work.
Guinevere Damon seemed not so much scared as intrigued. “Well, brother?” she demanded of Silas. “Give the dragon what he wants.”
Silas cleared his throat and straightened up from the desk, putting on a good show of bravado following his weak-ass cowardice. The man flat-out disgusted Leonidas. For a number of reasons. He almost wished Silas would turn them down, just so Leonidas would have an excuse to take a bite out of him. But that wouldn’t get Rosalyn what she needed—someone tutoring her in the magical arts and bringing out her true witch.
Silas visibly swallowed. “Yes, of course, we would be happy to assist in any way we can. Where shall we begin?” He plastered on the most disingenuous smile Leonidas had ever seen.
