Coven: (A Steamy Dragon Shifter/Vampire Romance) (Dragon Bound Book 1)

by Serena Akeroyd

  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, but her voice was wistful. “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 appeared to pain her, but prompted her 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 stunned him by belting out a laugh. “No wonder you had no idea what a happy dance was.”

  “Nay. You will have to show me. I find myself curious as to these remarks you make.”

  She sputtered out a laugh. “When my hands and feet are on board, buddy, you’ll be the first to know how to throw some happy dance shapes. Not that I’m exactly renowned for them,” she ended drily.

  “I am not Buddy, Mia. I am Remy,” he told her softly, fervently. Needing to hear his name on her lips without scorn and with her fully accepting of his claim. The ease in that acceptance did not come as a surprise. She was born for him as he was for her but that didn’t mean he wasn’t grateful.

  Maybe she understood that, maybe his need echoed or resonated in her, for her lips twisted again and she whispered, “Remy, this is crazy.”

  “This being the situation?”

  “What else?” Then, she shook her head in wonder as her eyes drifted over him. “One glimpse of the Dragon and now I’m a different person.”

  “Nay,” he breathed, staring down at her with as much wonder as was on her face. “This is the woman you were always supposed to be, and at this moment, I have become the male I’ve been waiting so long to become.”

  Her jaw tensed a second and a flash of tension had him wondering what she was thinking, but she whispered instead, “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. “Camouflage, my ass.”

  Remy studied her, bemused by her sudden light-heartedness when he was feeling anything but light. Every single piece of information his father had given him about this momentous occasion was whipping through his mind as he beheld her, and, the truth was, he didn’t want to get anything wrong.

  “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 stunned him by gifting him a bubble of laughter that was as intimate as a caress to the cheek, continued mournfully, “You’re taking this far more cheerfully than I’d anticipated.”

  More 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 if at all possible. 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 a 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 going to do?” she demanded. “Sit in this cavern all night?”

  “Until you’re ready to fly. Then, we’ll head to my 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.”

  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.

  Sure, he’d told her that when she was better, when her limbs weren’t limp rags, she could sit astride him. Ride him, even. Most lemans 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 the onset of 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 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 become a joint 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 thing Vampires were impossible to kill. Unless Remy decided to tip her out of their—yes, she’d morphed into a whole different collective now—cave at high noon, only the sun would butcher her, not the drop.

  Not that the drop would be fun.

  There were better ways to have a laugh. Especially as she had a teensy weensy fear of heights…

  Not that she’d told h
im that.

  A nightwalker had her pride, after all.

  Still, 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 a 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 while Murphy’s Law didn’t affect nightwalkers, daywalkers weren’t so fortunate. Brady tended to be plagued with such issues. And usually at delicate moments where politesse was vital. Like at a council meeting when silence was expected save from the speakers, for example. Only last year, he’d cascaded into a flurry of sneezes that had had the entire room gaping at them.

  She guessed Dragons would have similar body functions to daywalkers. Weren’t both their other halves distressingly human with human qualities?

  The thought took her mind off her plight for a moment as she wondered just what bodily functions they had in common. She knew Shifters were possessive, annoyingly so, therefore she couldn’t imagine him wanting her to feed from anyone else. In turn, that made her think more about Brady and her position as Sanguenna. Before she could dwell on it overlong, before the threads of stress could overtake her farther, 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 in the throes of decelerating.

  She opened her eyes to see if there was some kind of dwelling before her, but when she came across nothing but rock, she sighed. There was only so much of an endless mountain vista one could look at without getting bored.

  In truth, 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 puke.

  She’d never done it before, but then, she’d never had reason to. Having traveled first class since she was a child, be it in a carriage or a private jet, her life had been easy in that sense. Born to rich parents, into a wealthy coven, she’d lived well and had lacked for nothing.

  Nothing save this.

  Whatever this was.

  A connection? A link? Neither word seemed to fit the overwhelming rightness that was blossoming inside her. Where, before, there’d always been cold, now there was heat.

  Glorious heat.

  She just hoped it didn’t start cooking her.

  As the ground rushed toward them, evident from the change in air swells, the movement of his wings turned jerkier still. Thoughts of travel sickness reappeared as 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 each extremity. The pins and needles that had seemed to be stirring into action, were suddenly very much there. 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 onto 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—was that not the direst of ironies?

  “Dearling,” he whispered softly. “Why are you crying?”

  Somehow, his tenderness in the face of his earlier arrogance hit her harder than anything else. “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—was it a coincidence that she felt better now she was in his arms?

  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 underwater 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 because my arms don’t work.”

  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… Whatever she’d envisioned for her future, it certainly wasn’t that.

  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. She lifted her arms! Their eyes caught and held as she cried out, “They’re working again!” Relief filled 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. It should have gotten murkier and danker the deeper down the tunnel they passed. 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 field, 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 court. If that didn’t stun the shit out of her, bang in the middle was a huge pile of treasure. It belonged in a story about pirates and their plunder—that was how big it wa
s.

  She gawked at it, then gawked harder when, turning her head to peer at it, it seemed to grow even larger. “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.”

  When she took in the sight before her, of the craggy hot pools that beckoned her with its siren song, she stuttered, “I-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 his phrasing. “Exactly how old are you? I mean, you mentioned the Vikings back in my office, for God’s sake.” Yeah, that hadn’t escaped her attention.

  Sugar daddies took on a whole other concept in the supernatural world, and she was hardly young herself. Still, curiosity prodded her to ask.

  He grimaced. “Too old for you, dearling. But I’m keeping you,” he teased, holding her tighter to his chest.