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

by Serena Akeroyd

  Mia wasn’t an airhead. Even in her teen years, she’d never thought with her nether regions, and yet her mate managed to erase every thought from her head as though it had never existed.

  His body was perfection, and her biggest grievance was that he never allowed her to touch it. Save for when he hauled her into the hot springs, he maintained a distance between them that would grow irksome if it carried on much longer. Sure, he touched her here and there, with an intimacy that came from their awareness of one another, but his gentlemanliness wasn’t something she needed. Hell, she wasn’t a twenty-first century woman, but she had the ideals of one.

  She wanted cock. His cock. Now.

  And all that crap about biting and sex going hand in hand? Crap she’d shrugged off over the years? She couldn’t wait for that stuff to start happening. Remy had been handing her glasses of blood to feed her, almost as though he knew she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from taking things exactly where they needed to go.

  Irritating, yes, but also rather satisfying, for it told her that he wouldn’t be able to resist her charms.

  If a girl ever needed a confidence boost, she had it every time he fed her.

  “We’re almost there,” he assured her, after one of the Goblins at his feet grunted something that Remy appeared to understand even if she didn’t. “Look in the distance, you’ll see the visitor’s room.”

  “The visitor’s room?”

  He nodded. “This is the only place a creature such as an Elven or a Dragon may fit and be attended.”

  She blinked at that and had to hide another smile, lest the Goblins could understand English and misunderstood her amusement.

  “Calm it, wench,” he said in a low voice, but he was teasing. He knew she was amused and knew she was fighting to hide it.

  “I’m calm, I’m calm,” she retorted then peered into the distance and did, indeed, spot a regular-sized house. “Oh my God, I want to live there. It’s so gorgeous!”

  The Goblins peppering his ankles ceased their squawking and stared up at her in astonishment—so, they did understand English.

  Jesus, it was a good thing she’d watched her tongue.

  “It’s so beautiful,” she whispered, eyes widening at the sight of the chocolate box house that was fit for a human.

  These mullioned windows were colored a cheerful red and emerald green around the edges with what looked like unfurling ivy decorating the trim. The moonlight didn’t just shine against the colored glass; it sparkled and refracted, making color dart onto the cobbles. They were framed by wrought iron with a splendid dose of more curlicues and decorative swirls. The logs were longer here, naturally, to fit the dimensions of the building. But they’d been carved with figures she couldn’t make out but could see thanks to the contrast of the darker bark and the softer insides of the log itself.

  “Wards,” Remy explained as they neared the building. “To keep visitors protected and to safeguard the Goblins’ business practices.”

  Getting closer gave her no idea as to what the wards were. The figures could have been hieroglyphs, or they could have been runes. They were sylph-like figures, some smooth, others rough. Cursive and bold, others straight and thin.

  She was still peering at them when the door swung open, a simple wooden frame, and Remy guided her inside.

  She gasped again. It was like Santa’s workshop. The smell of pine was in the air as well as... She sniffed. Hot chocolate? Peppermint candy canes? She frowned, trying to discern the different scents bombarding her. Everything from sage and onion stuffing and turkey, to fruit pudding. It was a gamut of holiday smells that had her wishing she could actually eat food.

  The interior was dark and a little gloomy, but it was spared by a roaring fire. The hearth was as tall as she, and the fire would have come to her waist if she’d been standing.

  In the flames, the room was fairly well illuminated. It should have been stuffy, but instead, it was the perfect temperature. Just hot enough to add to the cozy, homey air.

  A large work surface, with more runes scarring it, had three stools around it. Two for guests and one with a kind of staircase carved into the table leg for the Goblin to reach the seat.

  She gawked at it then looked away, lest she cause offense.

  Remy wandered over to the stool and placed her down on it. The velvet padded cushion was soft against her butt, and though it had been nice being in his arms, it was nicer to be on solid ground again.

  Beside the fireplace, there was a decorative statue. It was bizarre, in truth. A cluster of gem atop gem set in gold and silver and a metal that looked to be almost white, like platinum, keeping it altogether. On the other side, there was a small desk, Goblin height this time, and shelves lined the wall with a ladder standing right in the middle for them to reach the jars filling the wall.

  “They’re Goldsmiths and potion workers,” Remy explained when he saw where she was looking.

  “Goldsmiths? I thought I was getting a dress made?”

  He snorted. “No.”

  “Then what the hell are we here for?”

  “For the best Goldsmith in the land.”

  “The comment is greatly appreciated, Sire,” a deep but somehow squeaky voice stated, breaking into their conversation.

  Mia took a second to peer around for the intruder, then remembered she was in Tiny Ville and looked at the floor.

  There, stood a Goblin. Green as the others were but his cheeks were glowing a weird white color in what she could only assume was embarrassed pleasure at Remy’s compliment—a belief confirmed when the glow died after a few seconds. The creature scurried over in a dash and scampered up the counter-ladder to sit on one of the tall stools.

  That stool was inordinately higher than hers, and when the Goblin was seated, he was actually on the same level as she was.

  Smiling at him, intently curious as to this odd little person she’d only ever heard about before and read about in books, she carried on studying him, as Remy reached into his pocket and pulled out a velvet pouch.

  The Goblin’s eyes widened with pleasure. “A great honor it is, Sire. Thank you for coming to me.”

  Remy smiled. “Your work is renowned among the six Houses, Greytook. I’d be churlish not to visit your town.”

  The creature glowed again, and he ducked his head politely. This close, and at her height, she could see his nose was shaped from cartilage. It was long and thin, spindly at the tip, and as the Goblin reached for the pouch, he almost snubbed his nose into the desk! Greytook’s eyes were black beads. Endless Stygian depths with no iris to relieve the ceaseless darkness. With the big ears, it was like looking at Yoda. Except, Yoda was bigger, and actually prettier. These Goblins, while apparently talented, were no lookers.

  Her attention switched to the stones that tumbled into the creature’s hands as he upturned the pouch.

  She gasped. “What are they?”

  They were like rough diamonds in shape, as though they were the uncut gems, yet, they glittered and sparkled as though they’d been polished.

  “Are they from your treasure pile?” she asked, touched by the gift.

  He snorted. “Those gems are not fit for your ceremonial dress.”

  Greytook harrumphed at her. “Nothing save a tear will do for court, Milady.”

  Milady? Whoa. She decided to disregard that until later and asked instead, “I’m confused. What kind of tear?”

  “That is for your mate to explain,” came the prim retort as he poked through the stones on the table. Then, he did the damnedest thing. He started sniffing the pieces.

  Honest to God, bent his nose and started snuffling at the table like he was a blind dog on the hunt for a juicy meat bone.

  Her mouth dropped open and was promptly closed when Remy nudged his finger under her chin and shut it for her. He flashed her a warning glance, and she merely ducked her head to hide her expression.

  Greytook made a happy noise, pretty similar to what the blind dog would have
made if he’d gotten hold of the meaty bone, and sat up. Then, with a finger, as spindly as his nose—of which he had only three to a hand—he started to draw a shape in the air.

  Before her eyes, light gathered and coalesced into a shape that matched the movements of his fingers.

  As she watched, a long necklace appeared. It was without a clasp and hung open at the front, almost like a scarf made out of precious metal.

  Along the chain, there were buds that appeared, ones she recognized as a fern’s fronds. They were stylized from metal into an organic form that had her gasping with delight.

  As his finger moved, more colors appeared, and the Goblin said, “Here, we’ll use gold and emeralds. At this point, diamonds. Then at the tips of the buds, the tear.” He hummed his delight. “It will be adorned to your House’s standard vest, is that to your liking, Sire?”

  “The standard vest will suit well. But make it from midnight velvet. I have a reel of it, and I’ll have one of my staff fly it over.”

  Greytook nodded. “Would you like me to scout out the gems?”

  Remy declined, “No. I have stones I wish to use. But I wanted to see your design first before I brought them over. It’s said that tears speak to you more than any other Goldsmith,” he murmured, his tone reverent with respect. “I see the chatter wasn’t a lie.”

  The Goblin didn’t demure, but he did glow again.

  “I want to use platinum for the setting,” Greytook explained, and pointed to the parts where he wished to use it. “But here, for the links, I’ll use white gold. The tear stones require white metal.”

  Remy nodded his understanding. “Whatever your eye sees fit. Thank you for taking the commission, Greytook.”

  “Tis my honor, Sire,” the Goblin said happily. Then, he looked at Mia and, almost shyly, asked, “It is to your liking, Milady?”

  Mia, who was still gawking at the illuminated drawing, which had just appeared before her eyes, whispered, “It’s beautiful.” She had no idea what the hell it was, not really. What the fuck were tear stones? But she was in awe of the necklace. It was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen in her life.

  Greytook, still beaming at her, reached forward and asked, “May I?”

  Remy nodded. “Aye. Be still, Mia.”

  She froze, shot a look at Remy as Greytook’s long, spindly finger bobbed in her line of sight. He flicked the tip forward, not stopping until it touched her temple. As he did, she flinched, and gasped again.

  In her mind’s eye, and she had no idea how the Goblin did it, the necklace appeared. Not out of light, not out of imagination, but the real thing.

  Tears burned her eyes as she looked at what, she could only assume, was the Dragon version of a wedding ring. Except it was a wedding necklace cum dress.

  Touched, her hand shot out and grabbed the Goblin’s. He flinched in surprise then relaxed when she merely squeezed and whispered, “Thank you.”

  “More than welcome, Milady.” To Remy, he said, “If you send the items over within the next few days, I shall get to work on the piece. I understand the urgency in these matters. Is Milady still suffering the malady?”

  Malady? That was as good a way as any of describing it. She grumbled, “If you’d seen him land and carry me to this house, you’d have your answer.”

  The Goblin’s eyes widened at her tone, and he ducked his head. “Her irascibility is understandable, Sire. I’m certain she will be more amenable when the bond settles.”

  Before she could take umbrage at Greytook’s excusing away her snark, Remy laughed. “I hope she’s as prickly as she is now.” The Goblin’s eyes widened in surprise, but she was too busy glowering at Remy’s wink.

  “I am here, you know?” she complained.

  He reached forward and dropped a kiss to the tip of her nose. Like that, the image in her mind’s eye of the ceremonial outfit disappeared like he’d popped a bubble.

  “I know, dearling. As if I could forget.”

  They flew to the cavern, and Mia had to admit, she was getting uncomfortably used to being dangled thousands of feet above the ground. Not the height, granted, but the dangling.

  Her legs didn’t appreciate the bizarre limpness that was only enhanced as the wind battered them like cold spaghetti, and her muscles couldn’t keep them in line. Aside from that, however, she quite liked the fresh wind in her face, and from this height, when she dared open her eyes, she couldn’t deny that the view was unsurpassable.

  In the distance, she could see the sea once more. It glittered in the moonlight. All around, similar townships to the one they’d just visited, were visible. In the darkness, they were shining beacons with dozens of pinprick lights that lit up the sky with their presence.

  It was bizarre to feel utterly alone with her mate and yet, see the signs of civilization too.

  The towns, she didn’t know if they belonged to the Goblins or Elven folk, but she was curious. Did Elven folk even live in towns?

  Somehow, she imagined them living like Dragons. In caverns or underground, maybe? She thoroughly expected them to be as weird as the Goblins.

  Creepier, in fact.

  She’d shuddered a little at the last sight of the clustered wee beasties before Remy had taken off. They’d been smaller than even Greytook, so they had to be children. The Goblin kids waved and catcalled, hollered and cheered as Remy shifted, and then, the cheers had grown even more raucous in their squeaky intensity as he took off and hit the air ducts in the wind.

  In the distance, she saw another town, but they veered left. Something about the passage reminded her of the other time she’d traveled here—she had a memory for routes and such. Sure enough, within a few minutes, Remy’s batting of his wings slowed down, and the wind buffeted them as he braked to decrease speed.

  When he landed, and carefully deposited her back on the ground, she called out, “Don’t shift.”

  He froze in place, head tilted to the side in question.

  Jesus, he was terrifying. So ugly he should have been repulsive and, yet, so beautiful and glorious too.

  She was supernatural. She knew Dragons and Goblins and Elven folk existed, even if she’d never seen them with her own eyes. Somehow, seeing truly was believing.

  He astonished her. Perplexed her. Set her afire with his glory.

  She truly felt diminished in front of him.

  This was the most regal of the Shifters. And he was hers.

  She stared at him a long time, and he stood, looking as confused as a reptile could with his high brow ridges arched and his head tilted to one side in almost feline discontent. She looked at the scales that had him blending into the mountainous background, and then, as she squinted, she saw on his chest, a faint discoloration that separated itself from the quagmire of gray.

  A play of diamond shapes were scattered among his breastbone, and as her attention was centered there, he finally seemed to catch on to what she was searching for because he spread his wings, thrusting his breast forward.

  She could have told him aloud what she was looking for, but the sight of him had rent her speechless.

  With his wings spread, he was even more majestic, and tears choked her at the glory of him. She blinked them back and focused on the pattern that would soon be on one of her legs when the muscles decided to work again.

  It was simply eight or nine diamond shapes. The diamond on a set of cards, not the gem. They were scattered together haphazardly, not conforming to any particular pattern.

  She could only liken them to the spattering of freckles on a human’s nose or the darker freckles and moles that appeared on arms and shoulders and legs from sun exposure.

  The notion tickled her, and she finally smiled. Somehow, Remy took that for the sign it actually wasn’t, and he shifted.

  She held her arms open for him to pick her up, and when he swayed her against his chest, swinging her into a comfortable hold, she pressed her face against his throat.

  “You’re beautiful,” she told him, h
er voice a whisper.

  “Thank you, dearling,” he replied, just as gently, then stunned her farther by twisting his head around so he could run the tip of his nose down hers. The gesture had a more paternal bent to it than one that usually existed between lovers, but at that moment, she’d never been more moved in all her life. Unable to speak, she shivered at the caress, then nodded, tucked herself into him, and fell silent as he begun the short trek to their home.

  He propped her on the chaise longue, when they entered the cavern, and left her for a few moments to get herself together. She wasn’t sure why the sight of him shook her. Although, maybe it made sense. The last time she’d really looked at him, she’d passed out. So the second time was bound to be equally as impressive. But still, it was like the difference between knowing aliens existed and seeing one.

  She bit her lip and stared around the cavern that was going to be home for part of her life.

  The grandeur was different to that of her Tribeca quarters. Not worse, not better. Simply different.

  Here, somehow in a craggy cave, he’d made it opulent. There were luxuries she could never have imagined. Never have foreseen in a thousand years.

  The Tribeca house was loaded with human capabilities. Human technologies.

  This cave superseded that, and though it had been her home for only a handful of nights—more than that, it had been half jail thanks to her inability to walk—she knew upon her return to the other realm, she would miss it.

  And wasn’t that confusing?

  Nine

  New York was loud. It was smelly. It was busy. And there were far too many people in it.

  He’d had Alexa pass through the realm gate and arrange for a limo to be waiting for them at the Robert Moore Water Tower—their usual meeting spot. The company was more than accustomed to the unusual request, and as they were Shifters, very few questions were ever asked anyway.