Banning (Dragon Guard Berserkers Book 1)

by Julia Mills

  “Mate,” the dragon’s rumble was ominous as he blew smoke from his snout and pushed his heavy body against the confines of Banning’s mind.

  Picking up the pace, the scent of the woman the Universe had made for him growing stronger with every step, the Guardsman turned down a dark alley, beginning to jog as he admitted to himself with a whisper, “I would give every coin that has ever been thrown into my fountain for just one touch of her silken skin or to hear my name upon her lips.”

  But wishes and happily-ever-afters are for dreamers, not dragons made of bronze…

  Chapter Four

  Pulling into the garage just as the bright green numbers of the digital clock on the dashboard changed to twelve o’clock midnight, Mimi breathed a sigh of relief when the large aluminum door hit the concrete, leaving the outside world behind. Closing her eyes and letting her head fall back, the young psychiatrist enjoyed the peace and quiet that can only come from being completely, blessedly alone.

  Her dreams, or dream to be more exact, the same one she’d been having every night since making a wish in the fountain, gently flowed through her mind as she hummed the tune of the song that had been playing when she’d danced with her very own Prince Charming. Once again, she felt the cool breeze as he led her onto the terrace, bathed in the fragrant aroma of fresh flowers, and became mesmerized by her escort’s handsome features highlighted by the glow of the full moon above.

  Adrift in her dream world, content to float on the clouds of hallowed escape comes from completely giving one’s self over to a fantasy, Mimi’s eyes flew open and she jumped forward in her seat, bumping the horn on the steering wheel and hitting her head on the visor above.

  “Ow!” She yelled, rubbing her aching head. “What the hell?”

  The echo of the car horn still bouncing off the block walls of the garage combined with the snarls and barks of the next-door neighbor’s dog gave Mimi the perfectly dreadful lead-in to a good old-fashioned migraine.

  “The Murphys must’ve forgotten to let Corky in,” she mused, opening the door and climbing out of her car. Heading for the side exit, Mimi stepped outside, opened the gate connecting her yard to her neighbor’s, and called, “Come here, Corky. Come to Mimi, you silly boy.” Making the kissy noise, she added, “Quiet, Corky,” like Carla Murphy had instructed and walked toward the still growling dog.

  She could feel a combination of anger and excitement racing through the pup as she knelt, patted her knee, and once again called him to her. “Come on, Corkster. Come see Mimi.”

  Turning his head side-to-side, looking at Mimi and wagging his tail then back at the thick hedges at the side of his yard to growl, Corky reminded her of a spectator at a tennis match, his head bobbing back and forth to keep up with all the action. After a few seconds more, the Boxer/Chow mix the Murphy’s rescued from the ASPCA nearly ten years ago, finally gave in and came running to her. Licking her hand and rolling on his back to have his tummy rubbed, Mimi swore the goofy dog was smiling.

  “You’re such a silly boy,” she cooed. “What were you barking at? Huh, Corky? What do you think is out there?” Petting under his chin, she added, “You’re gonna have the whole neighborhood awake. Well, everyone except your mommy and daddy,” she chuckled. “They probably have their hearing aids turned off.”

  Standing up, Mimi pulled the cell phone from her coat pocket, pressed a button on the screen, and turned on the flashlight. Shining the beam along the tall greenery, she searched for what had upset the pup, with the hopes it wasn’t anything more than a racoon looking to raid the garbage cans.

  Giving up after her third pass, she turned back to Corky and sighed. “Well, I can’t find anything, Mr. Barky Pants.” Patting her thigh, she called, “Come on, I’ll let you in. It’s way past your bedtime.”

  Approaching the Murphy’s back door, taking the keys from her pocket, Mimi’s fingers had just touched the cool metal as the sound of dried leaves cracking under a heavy foot stole the breath from her lungs. Standing as still as a statue while Corky snarled and sped toward the sound, Mimi counted to three before slowly turning around.

  Once again shining the light of her phone into the darkness, Mimi leaned forward, squinting in an attempt to discern what was real and what was shadow. Scanning the landscape, her eyes landed on Corky, his tawny-colored fur a beacon against the dark green of the grass and the elongated images cast by moonbeams shining through the shrubs. Pawing at the ground, the dog flung clumps of dirt and grass between his hind legs before throwing back his head and howling like the coyotes Mimi had heard in the desert.

  Timidly sliding her foot off the first step and then the other, Mimi carefully placed one foot in front of the other, calling out in the sternest voice she could muster, “Who’s there? Show yourself!”

  Her shout caused Corky to once again bay at the moon, as if he, too, was telling the intruder to reveal himself. Creeping forward, her arm outstretched with her phone acting as a shield of light, Mimi opened her mouth to issue another warning but instead screamed at the top of her lungs when a voice shouted, “Who’s out there? I’ve got a shotgun and I know how to use it.”

  Tripping over her own feet, the soles of her shoes slippery from the dew on the grass, Mimi found herself falling forward as she did a rapidly spinning about-face. Falling face first toward a pile of soil for the Murphy’s garden, visions of a broken nose and two black eyes flying through her mind, Mimi could only close her eyes and hold her breath.

  Momentarily blinded by the huge lights flooding the yard with a blinding, white glare, and adding a whole new level of discomfort to her present catastrophe, Mimi toppled to the ground, her arms flailing, her phone flying, and a shriek of, “Don’t shoot, Mr. Murphy!” flying from her mouth.

  Throwing her hands out a split second before she hit the dirt, Mimi narrowly missed having a mouthful of top soil as she groaned, “It’s me, Mimi.”

  “Mimi?” The elderly gentleman’s gravelly voice broke through the dog’s barking. “What are you doing out there at this hour?” Right before ordering, “Quiet, Corky. Hush it up.”

  With the canine’s bark still echoing in her ears, Mimi rolled onto her back as the screen door behind her opened then immediately slammed shut. Wheezing, still trying to catch her breath, she coughed, “C-Corky was-s out.” Stopping to take a gulp of fresh air, she added, “I…I w-was t-trying to p-put him in.”

  Rapidly blinking her eyes, trying to focus around the black dots dancing before her, Mimi pushed up to a sitting position just as Ralph Murphy appeared at her side, shot gun in hand, and asked, “You okay, girlie?” Reaching with his free hand, he nodded. “Come on, let me help ya’ up.”

  Gladly taking his outstretched fingers, Mimi held tight as the retired Army Colonel pulled her to her feet and looking to his dog commanded, “Come, Corky.” Then looking at her asked, “You sure you’re all right?”

  Wiping the dirt and grass from her long beige trench coat, Mimi blew out a breath and explained, “Yes, sir. I’m fine.” She looked to the side and spotted her phone. Walking toward the device, she went on, “I’d just gotten home and Corky started barking. I figured he’d unlocked his doggy door again, so I came to put him back in the house.”

  Bending down, she picked up her phone, wiped the screen on her pants leg, turned and continued as she walked back toward Mr. Murphy and his furry friend. “I was just about to unlock the back door when I heard something that sounded like a footstep just over there.” She pointed to the far corner of the yard. “The Corkster heard it, too, because he took off like a flash, snarling and howling.”

  She knelt and scratched under the dog’s chin. “And well,” she chuckled, “you know the rest.”

  Glancing over his shoulder before giving Mimi a single nod, Mr. Murphy stated, in his usual matter-of-fact way, “Thank you, Mimi. I’ll be sure Corky’s door is locked tight and set the alarm.” Pointing toward her home, he added, “You need to get in out of the cool air, young lady. I’ll watch until you’
re inside.” He patted the butt on the gun hanging over his forearm. “Thank you, again.”

  “You are very welcome,” Mimi smiled, giving Corky another pet before standing up and heading toward her house.

  Walking through the side door of the garage, she turned and waved. “Thank you, Mr. Murphy. Take care. Tell Carla I said hello.”

  “I sure will. See you soon,” he answered as Mimi shut and locked the door.

  Walking around the hood of her car, the young woman got her briefcase from the backseat and shuffled into the house. Dropping everything on the kitchen table and eagerly shedding her coat, which landed haphazardly on the back of the closest chair, Mimi crossed the room, turned on the tap, grabbed a glass from the cupboard, and filled it nearly to the rim.

  Drinking it down in one gulp, she stared out the window, glass still in her grip as she reviewed the events of the evening. Turning to put her cup in the dishwasher, Mimi stopped dead when a hand came over her mouth, yanking her back against a brick wall of muscle and heat.

  Holding her breath, afraid to breathe, the hair at the back of her neck stood on end and goose bumps covered her body as soft, warm lips touched her ear and a low rumbled whisper commanded, “Do not scream. I will not hurt you.”

  Then just like all the leading women in every old movie she’d ever watched with her mom and Lillie, Mimi fainted.

  Not, my finest hour…

  Chapter Five

  “Best laid plans of dragons and men…” Banning took liberties with the Robert Burns quote as he held the woman he now knew as Mimi close to his chest. Scaring her not once, but twice, had never been part of his plan. Neither had been being seen, but he’d achieved both in a matter of minutes.

  What a cockup, Banning, my boy…

  Lifting her into his arms and following the intoxicatingly soft aroma of warm vanilla and fresh picked peaches, the Guardsman was drawn to her room like a moth to a flame. Her scent calmed both man and beast, restoring not only their faith in the power of the Universe, but also their belief in Fate and Destiny. Gently laying her in the center of the bed and carefully taking off her shoes, the dragon made his mate as comfortable as possible before covering her with a fluffy, flowered coverlet.

  Captured by the sight of her, unable to breathe, Banning’s hand reached for her of its own accord. The tips of his fingers softly caressed her cheek, the electricity of their connection shooting up his arm and down his spine, his dragon groaning low in his throat. Myanna, he blessedly now knew her name, truly was the light of his soul. There was no sense denying it or trying to escape it. She was the single most important reason for his very existence…without her, the Guardsman had no doubt he would simply cease to exist.

  Sure, his father and the Elders had told him how life-altering finding his mate would be, but Banning had been young, impetuous, and quite frankly, a right foul git. His giant ego, fed by his own aspirations of glory, had not only led to his downfall, but that of his Clan. He had failed those who meant the most to him, but he wouldn’t fail Myanna.

  “I may not be able to spend eternity by your side, but I will do everything in my power, use every drop of magic I possess, give my very life, to save your mother and make sure you find happiness, bualadh mo chroí.”

  “Banning?” Myanna’s whisper, his name on her lips, reached right into his chest, wrapped lovingly around his heart, and marked both man and dragon as her own.

  Following the brilliant white glow of the mating bond anchoring his soul to hers, the Guardsman let his mind join with his mate’s, feeling the missing part of his very being slip into place like two perfectly cut pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Keeping to the shadows, watching her dreams unfold, Banning was pleasantly surprised to find Myanna fantasizing about him, the setting almost identical to a ball thrown in the dragon’s honor by his parents mere days before the battle with the witches.

  Giving in to the need to be more than a spectator, the Guardsman joined with Mimi’s vision of him, his heart beating so loudly it nearly drowned out the music of the stringed quartet…

  Looking into her hazel eyes, so full of adoration and trust, Banning was lost to the visions of a future he would only ever experience in a fantasy world of their own making. Following the progression of her dream, one he could tell she’d relived time and time again, the Guardsman rejoiced in the sound of their hearts beating as one. His dragon roared in his head, plumes of smoke and flames of excitement filling his mind’s eye.

  “Aye, Gerallt, mo Dragon. Our mate is even more spectacular in person.” The Guardsman’s words drifted to the Dragon King with whom he shared his soul. “Enjoy her company while it lasts, for you know we cannot claim her. Our Myanna deserves all the happiness in the world and we shall not stop her from having it.”

  Shoving all thoughts of anything but his mate in his arms and making the most of the time that he had with her, Banning danced his lovely mate onto the terrace and lifted her into his arms.

  “Where are you taking me, mo ghrá?” She chuckled, looking up at him through her long, dark lashes, the flush of excitement coloring the apples of her cheeks as she spoke the language of his kin.

  “Somewhere away from prying eyes, mo stór,” he quickly answered, using his preternatural speed to whisk his Beloved to the farthest corner of the garden where the violet bougainvillea grew tall upon their trellises.

  The second he knew they were hidden, Banning slipped his arm from under Myanna’s legs, her body sliding against his as he memorized the seductive curves of her oh-so feminine form. Pulling her tightly to his chest, the Guardsman’s lips immediately found hers, the molten desire he’d just barely kept at bay bursting forth, fueling the fire of their embrace.

  Demanding entrance, Banning growled, his hands sliding down the tight bodice of her evergreen gown as Myanna opened not only her lips, but her heart and soul to him. Fisting the thick silk of her skirt and the mass of petticoats, the Guardsman sought to touch all of his mate, mark her with his scent, make her his for evermore.

  Pulling his lips from hers, he smiled as she moaned at the loss, the need to taste every inch of exposed skin driving his every thought and action. His lips danced down the gloriously soft column of her neck and his teeth nipped at the top of her shoulder, every caress moving him closer to his true destination.

  Following the glittering jewels adorning her neckline with his teeth and tongue, Banning growled low in his throat, his knees nearly buckling and his cock straining against the brass buttons of his fly as his lips landed upon the bounty of her breasts being offered up so perfectly by her form-fitting corset and revealing cut of her dress. Her fingers dove into his hair, fisting the long, wild curls and pulling tighter the more attention he paid to her décolletage.

  “Oh, yes, my love,” she moaned, her body, although hidden underneath her clothing, rocking against his, coming together with him, the sensation so heady Banning felt as if he was flying without his wings.

  Stepping back, mesmerized by Myanna’s kiss-swollen lips and the love shining in the depths of her heavily-lidded eyes, Banning wasted no time stripping out of his long waistcoat, throwing it onto the ground, and placing his Beloved tenderly upon the jacket. Following her, unable to be anywhere but by her side, the Guardsman’s lips immediately found hers, picking up where they’d left off.

  Arousal thickened his blood, growing by leaps and bounds every time their tongues met in a dance of fire and fury promising the ecstasy only true mates can ever experience. Myanna whimpered, her nails biting into his shoulders as he delved farther into her, fanning the flames of desire.

  The perfume of the flowers all around them paled in comparison to the scent of his mate’s arousal. Grabbing the hem of her skirts, Banning’s hand skimmed the creamy flesh of her legs, the lace of her knickers tickling the palm of his hand as he teased the trembling flesh of her thighs.

  Slipping through the open fabric at her center, the tips of his fingers touched her tight curls, wet with her arousal. No longer able to
contain himself, Banning’s thumb and forefinger massaged her throbbing clit as Myanna’s hips pushed against his hand, trying to force him where she needed him most.

  Tearing her lips from his, she gasped, “Please, Banning…please. Love me, make me yours forever more.”

  Unable to resist her pleas, wanting to watch Myanna’s beautiful face as she reached her climax, Banning thrust his two middle fingers into her. The feel of her body stretching to accommodate his digits, the walls of her body massaging and flexing was deliciously maddening, the Guardsman’s desire to make love to his mate overwhelming.

  Pulling his fingers back until they almost fell from the haven of her body, Banning pushed back into her body, repeating the movement over and over as Myanna met his every drugging move with a passion he’d only before imagined. Bending the tip of his fingers in a come-hither motion, taunting the tender bundle of muscles he knew would drive her wild, the dragon smiled as his mate wailed his name, her nails raking down his back, ripping the woven cotton of his shirt.

  Pushing her higher, the tide of her orgasm rising like the waves of a tsunami, Banning’s attention was pulled from his mate as a sharp, continuous alarm refused to be silenced. A sense of dread filled his being a split-second before the bubble of Myanna’s dream exploded.

  Using his magic to conceal himself, Banning took a hasty step backward as Mimi shot up from bed, grabbed her phone from the bedside table, and screamed, “Oh my God, no!”

  Racing out the door and down the hall, the invisible Guardsman followed his mate, her voice rising with every hurried step.

  “LILLIAN!” she shrieked, crossing the threshold into her mother’s room then yelling into the phone, “Emergency services! My mother’s stopped breathing. We’re at 1016 Woodward Ave. Come now!”

  Banning watched his mate climb onto the bed, preforming chest compressions on her mother as a gray-haired woman with kind eyes came running into the room, demanding, “What happened to the ventilator? Why is it off?”