“I feel like the deal is sealed.” What had happened when she saw his Dragon had been beyond unique. The heat, the link… Incomparable and irreplaceable. “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 thing. She didn’t know how to be any other way.
“Take backs, no, but while the mate bond has begun to form, it isn’t fully in place yet.”
Her brow puckered. “Truly?” What was developing between them felt like it was still new, not fully born as yet. So his words came as a relief—her instincts were on point.
He dipped his chin. “Aye. But we can speak of this later. You must bathe and then rest. Your body, whether you choose to believe it or not, requires both.”
“What happened when I saw your Dragon?” she whispered, his gravity seemed out of place at that moment, so it affected her to hear it when there’d been a playfulness about him as he revealed the cavern to her.
“There are different phases in a mate bond’s development. The beast triggers the second phase.”
She eyed him. “You’re not going to tell me any details yet, are you?”
“Not until you bathe.”
“Do I stink or something?”
Her demand had him snickering. “No. You’re the one who spoke of pins and needles.”
“They’re gone now,” she chided. “Come on, Remy. I’m an adult. A Sanguenna. You can trust me—”
His scowl was instantaneous. “It isn’t about trust. It’s about your health. I have been guided in these matters since I was old enough to learn what a leman was. You are my priority. Your health, your welfare and well-being. You’ve already traveled farther than you ought in your state, and I felt you shivering in my claws during the flight over here. I didn’t even know Vampires could feel the cold.”
Her eyes flashed at that. She cleared her throat. “Yes, well…” No way was she going to admit she had a fear of heights when he was a Dragon. Flight and height pretty much went together like a Chanel suit and an LV purse. Desperate to change the subject before she admitted to such a childish fear to a male who’d been around since the Dark Ages, she stuttered, “I-I can’t believe this is your home.” It was no word of a lie as they 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.
Whether he thought her change of subject abrupt or not, he merely corrected, “Our home.” His generosity made her cheeks bloom with heat.
As she was wondering how on earth he managed to transport all this stuff here, to her left, they passed a desk that, along with the treasure pile, looked like it belonged on a pirate ship. Books were stacked on it, some up to breast-high on her. All around it, on the floor, were more tomes.
In fact, wherever she looked, apart from the hot springs, which they were nearing, there were seating areas gathered together and all of them were loaded down with books.
As they arrived at the water line, he bent down and helped her onto the verge. There was a shoreline against which the water lapped. It was crystalline, so pure she could see the sand beneath it, and she ached to feel that grittiness between her toes.
“Do you want my help with undressing?” he asked, his voice husky.
After seeing two hundred years, modesty wasn’t high on her list of characteristics. “I can manage the top half, but could you help with the boots?” She grimaced at the suede which hugged her knees. “They’re difficult to get off on a good night.”
He smirked, but complied. He lifted one leg, propped it against his shoulder, then sought the zip. As he did, he rubbed his hand down the length of her calf, up to her thigh, and down again until he found the toggle of the zipper.
She gulped as he pulled it down, revealing the bare skin beneath. She shuddered as, having hit the end of the zip line, he traced his fingers upward. She’d been leaning on her hands, but the tickling touch, so sensuous and innocent, had her losing control of her neck. Her head tilted back, and she moaned at the exquisitely simple sensation.
“You like that, my dearling?”
She groaned and kept her head flung back. “Which part of this looks like I don’t?”
He chuckled. “A man likes his ego stroking from time to time.”
At that, she tilted her head forward and caught him square in the eye. “I’ve always been better at stroking other things.”
It was his turn to groan. “Witch,” he declared as he tugged off the stiletto boot and carefully placed her foot on the ground.
They both eyed her pedicured toes, and she tried, in vain, to wiggle them. With a gruff sigh, he traced the arch of her foot. “Fear not, sweetling. Sensation will return to you soon.”
Had her hands not been working, she’d probably have been in outright panic mode. But as they were, and as he was being such a sweetheart, and because his touch felt like heaven and was utterly distracting, she couldn’t find it in her to stress out.
Something in itself that was a novelty.
Brady would say she was the Queen of Stress—not that she agreed.
He gifted her other leg with the same treatment, making her shiver with the simple trace of the rough pads of his fingers against her tender skin. By the time both boots were off, she was shaking again.
“Can you arch your hips?” he asked, his voice hoarse from excess emotion—it was enchanting to see he was as affected as she by the barely there caress.
She nodded and lifted her butt off the ground. He leaned forward and grabbed the skirt of her dress and tucked it higher. She sank back down the instant the fabric was free of her weight.
“Arms up,” he told her gruffly, and she complied, letting him tug the expensive silk overhead.
He hissed at the sight of her lingerie. Black lace, it was peekaboo and sexy, and she was so damn glad she’d worn this set tonight and not settled for something less glamorous as she usually did.
With it being the first night of decorations in the nightclub, she’d been feeling festive.
Thank God for Christmas, she whispered inwardly.
“Lady Mother, you’re a sight for sore eyes.”
His handsome face was rigid as he looked her over. He seemed almost mad, but she knew his tension stemmed from arousal.
An arousal that couldn’t be quenched with half her body still paralyzed.
“Do we consummate the bond?” she asked huskily. “Like regular Shifters?”
He blinked at the question and, then, after toeing off his shoes, tugged her into his arms once more before wading into the shore of the hot spring. Carefully setting her down in the shallows, she shuddered as the warm effervescent liquid immediately worked its magic on her comatose legs.
“You just ruined your suit,” she chided as he stomped back to the shoreline.
“I can buy more,” he dismissed.
“Still, it’s a travesty mistreating fine tailoring like that.”
He snorted as she turned around to study him. Watching him undress was a perk she wasn’t going to miss out on. He shrugged off the sports coat then the tie. His massive but nimble fingers worked on the buttons of his cuffs. Once free, he shrugged it off and dumped it on the ground. Next came the hide belt, followed by his trousers.
Within seconds, and without an ounce of sensuality to the act, he was naked.
Standing before her in all his might, she was hard pressed not to gawk.
This magnificent creature was hers.
She felt like swallowing her tongue was an imminent possibility, but only fear of looking more like a fool in front of this God kept it in check.
When he waded through the water to reach her side, he murmured, “Do you want to go deeper?”
She blinked at him. “The way you look, I’d love to,” she told him true. “But
I’m not entirely sure if I’m up to that yet.”
He smiled at her, the gentleness stunning her as he murmured, “Come, we can tease and entice as we learn each other. But the water will do you good. It has healing properties.”
He helped arrange her still lax legs and held her thighs to his hips as he stepped further into the water. The nudge of his shaft against her core was a constant reminder, and they both had clenched jaws by the time he was standing in the spring at waist height. Of course, the fact he was nearer seven feet meant that she was almost totally submerged.
She’d never trusted anyone with herself like this. Letting him carry her over acres and acres the way he had, as they flew to his cavern and, now this, trusting him to keep her safe while she was at her most vulnerable were unheard of for her.
The trust was something that astonished her, and as she tested its bonds, she let herself float back. His hands tightened on her thighs as she let her head relax into the surface, splaying her hair and submerging her ears in the warm bubbles.
She sighed, uncaring that she was giving him quite a show. At that moment, the sense of peace filling her was more priceless than even the Dragon scale her Sister Sanguenna had so coveted.
He moved her about the water, twirling her in its fizzy depths. When her ears grew tired of being waterlogged, she reared upright and set her hands on his arms. Clinging to his biceps, she murmured, “You don’t answer my questions, do you?”
His eyelids fluttered to half-mast. “The important ones, I answer.”
She snorted at that. “What about the one about your age?”
“Irrelevant,” he told her, tongue definitely in cheek.
“How are we going to learn more about each other if we don’t talk?”
He snorted. “When you have centuries together, learning about one another isn’t a difficulty.”
As he waded a little deeper into the water, she cut him a glance. “Remember, drowning me won’t shut me up.”
For a second, he froze then bellowed out a laugh. As his chuckles died down, he shook his head at her. “Leman, you are certainly unusual.”
“Damn straight,” she told him, shooting him a wink before tumbling back into the water once more and letting it cascade overhead.
Five
“Remy? Sire? ’Tis I.”
“I, as well, am here, Sire.”
The words were hollered down the tunnel, and they had Mia, who’d been tucked on a very comfortable chaise longue, bolting upright. Remy, seated on the floor, had his back to the chaise with his legs prostrate before him, but she saw the tension in his shoulders come and go.
“Who’s that?” she asked softly, then frowned at her hushed voice in her own home and, louder, demanded, “Aren’t you going to let them in?”
“Enter.”
The single word was like a foghorn. She wasn’t sure how he’d projected so damn loudly, but her ears rang with it.
“Jesus, warn a girl,” she chided, holding her hands to her ears to stop the incessant chime, which seemed to still be reverberating around the cavernous chamber.
And this was way more than an echo.
He shot her a sheepish look. “Sorry. It’s an Elven spell.” He got to his feet in a sleek maneuver and walked over to a craggy outcropping that acted as a privacy screen.
He appeared seconds later with a shirt covering his dreamy pecs and a scowl on his brow.
Perfect timing too, as their uninvited guests’ steps sounded in the tunnel. Another piece of Elven magic she assumed, considering she was closer to the hot springs than the entrance, and she could hear the tap of the strangers’ footsteps over the faint gurgling of the pool at her back.
A man and woman appeared in the doorway, and at the sight of her, their eyes flared wide. She felt ill at ease laying the way she was on the chaise longue. After a night and a half here, her legs still weren’t online, so she was stuck whether she liked it or not. And she didn’t. Not one bit.
Remy didn’t step toward their guests. He went behind Mia and rested a hand on her shoulder.
It was a statement. A declaration. One that had her flushing with pride.
“What do you want?” he demanded as he beckoned them forward with a wave of his free hand.
They scrambled forth, the man staying quiet as the female murmured, “Sire, it is Georgios. He is being difficult again.”
Mia peered up at her mate and saw his lips firm in irritation. “I thought I dealt with this last time.”
“You did,” the male replied, looking at her as he spoke. “He woke up.”
The simple reply had Remy hissing. “I thought I told you to let him sleep until his leman stirred?”
The female shrugged. “Perhaps that is why he is awake.”
“Or mayhap you bargained for a dodgy potion from one of the Goblins,” Remy said disgustedly. “Need I do everything myself?”
“That’s hardly fair,” Mia inserted, grabbing all of the room’s attention with her words. “You’ve been sleeping yourself. You can’t bitch about how your commands are undertaken if you’re not there to oversee them.”
The woman flashed her a look of gratitude. “Your grace,” she murmured, sweeping low into a curtsey that had Mia’s eyes widening. She was used to formality, used to the ultra-courtesy required at Vampire court, but she’d never had someone curtsey in her presence.
The male bowed low, bending at the hip and not stopping until he was at a right angle. The depth of his bow was as stunning as the woman’s curtsey.
“This is my leman,” Remy said sourly. “Dreconis Mia.”
She shot him a look at that, and lacing their fingers together on her shoulder, dug her nails into the back of his hand—she’d never agreed to dump her surname.
“Larissau Alexa,” the woman said.
“Orgullosson Eirik.”
Mia nodded at both of them in greeting. “It’s a pleasure, Eirik, Alexa.” Wondering why they switched surname with forename, she shoved that aside and asked, “This Georgios, what kind of trouble is he making?”
“Dearling, you’re still recuperating from the bond. I’ll deal with this.”
She dug her nails deeper into his hand. For whatever reason, he’d failed to tell her he had power in this realm. That had to be the only explanation why these two had come to him.
“All I can do is sit. If I can sit, I can listen. If I can listen, I can think. Talk,” she growled, aiming the words at Eirik whose cheeks flushed at her attention.
Whether in anger or dismay, she didn’t know, but he shot her mate a look. Remy must have nodded because Eirik said, “The usual. Petty squabbles with the Goblins. He’s managed to annoy one of the Elven High Lords. Never mind the skirmishes he’s had with his neighbors over territory.” Eirik shook his head. “He seems determined to annoy as many as possible.”
“Sounds self-destructive to me,” she remarked. “If the potion you gave him was supposed to keep him under until his leman stirred, why doesn’t he go and search for her?”
Alexa hunched her shoulders. “We do not know.”
“Even though he was drugged, he has to know the reason for his awakening was his leman’s onset heat, right?” she asked, confused.
Eirik shrugged. “We would assume so.”
“Don’t you think it’s weird that the guy hasn’t immediately gone on a hunt for his leman?” To Remy, she asked, “What was the first thing you did after you woke up?”
He wafted a hand. “Aside from the practicalities, I immediately set out on my hunt for you.”
“Did those practicalities involve pissing off Goblins and Elven High Lords? Enquiring minds would like to know,” she said drily.
He rolled his eyes at her sarcasm. “No. I hunted, ate. Made sure my House was in order then set off for the other realm.”
Made sure his House was in order?
Somehow, she knew he wasn’t talking about dusting and vacuuming the cave.
She narrowed her eyes at the slip and de
termined to ask him about it later. “Well then. It’s weird, right?”
“I don’t disagree,” Alexa stated. “But that doesn’t help us at the moment. Self-destructive behavior or not, it’s causing strife within the Houses. Strife we can ill afford.”
There was backstory here, backstory she was in the dark about, and if there was anything she hated more, it was being in the dark. Ironic considering she was a nightwalker… Still, she’d been here less than thirty-six hours, so she couldn’t expect to know everything about the new culture she found herself in, but Remy was intent on her doing little more than relaxing—of those thirty-six hours, she’d been asleep for three-quarters of them, and had awoken on this chaise longue where she’d dozed off.
In the hours she’d been awake, they’d spoken of their parents. Sires were important in all supernatural cultures, and it wasn’t unusual to do this, but all the while, she’d been chomping at the bit to know more about him. His people.
Now, after a few minutes of speaking with Eirik and Alexa, she was learning there was a hell of a lot she needed to find out.
Still, if he had power, he’d have to get used to sharing it. Mia was a good Sanguenna, and she wasn’t about to give up having some power just to be the ‘little woman.’
Perhaps he sensed her agitation, for Remy separated their fingers after he squeezed them, moved around the chaise, and sat at the foot beside her legs. From the formal position of before to this more relaxed one, it told her Remy didn’t stand on ceremony with these two. Something he merely confirmed when, seconds later, he waved a hand indicating Alexa and Eirik were to do the same, and they took seats in two armchairs, perching on the edge like they were waiting for orders and would depart immediately to obey.
Remy set his elbows on his knees, as he pondered the problem, and Mia watched him try to come up with a solution.
When he stayed silent, she queried, “Is anyone aware of exactly why Georgios might be acting up?”
Alexa grimaced. “Madness runs in his family. His father murdered his leman after accusing her of adultery.”
Coven: (A Steamy Dragon Shifter/Vampire Romance) (Dragon Bound Book 1) Page 6
