by Zoe Chant
They both collapsed back on the bed, still joined. Despite Dai’s weight on top of her, Virginia felt as light and weightless as ash on the wind, utterly consumed by pleasure.
After a moment, Dai let out a long sigh. “I never want to move.” Nonetheless, he rolled, sliding out of her. He spooned her against his chest, curling around her protectively. “But my shoulder’s seizing up. Sorry.”
“I’ll forgive you,” Virginia said, without opening her eyes. “Just this once.”
He smelled of clean sweat and wood smoke, the heat of his body against her back as comforting as a log fire in the depths of winter. Something snagged at her slowing mind.
“Hey,” she mumbled drowsily. “What was it you wanted to tell me?”
If he answered, Virginia didn’t hear. She fell into a deep, contented sleep, and didn’t dream of dragons.
Chapter 6
When Dai had been a young kid still getting to grips with his dragon, he’d been expressly forbidden to practice fire-breathing. Naturally, this had meant he’d regularly snuck out of the house when his parents were asleep to do so. Whenever his experiments had gone terribly wrong—as they had more often than not—he’d always tried to preemptively put his parents in a good mood by bringing them breakfast in bed the following morning. The bigger the field he’d accidentally torched, the more lavish the breakfast he’d prepare. His mother claimed that to this day, the sight of a plate of bacon and eggs brought her out in a cold sweat of dread.
Dai was currently wishing that Virginia owned a bigger frying pan.
He cursed himself as he flipped the bacon. All his good intentions, all his practiced control—it had all gone up in smoke when she’d touched him.
Yes, his inner dragon agreed happily.
In contrast to Dai’s grim mood, his dragon sprawled in luxurious contentment, as smug as a cat in a sunbeam. As far as the dragon was concerned, the only thing that was wrong was that he was out here instead of still in his mate’s bed. Even now he could be awakening her with kisses, running his hands over the lush curves of her hips—
Dai shook his head, forcibly thrusting the alluring daydream out of his mind. The dragon was a creature of instinct, unable to think beyond seizing what it wanted, but his human half was not so fortunate. He felt like a little kid again, waking up to the consequences of his nighttime transgressions in the cold, harsh light of day.
I should have stopped. I should have told her what I am. She wouldn’t have wanted me if she’d known. I betrayed her trust. I betrayed her.
Dai sighed, steeling himself for what he knew he had to do. I have to tell her. Straight away, as soon as she wakes up. No matter what the consequences.
He stared down at the frying pan. Maybe I should make some pancakes too.
He could tell the instant Virginia awoke by the way his inner dragon was suddenly on full alert, straining eagerly like a dog on a short leash. He heard the bed creak as she stretched, then the sound of her bare feet on the floorboards. He didn’t look round, delaying the inevitable moment by as long as possible.
Virginia’s hands slipped around his hips, rucking up his T-shirt. All of his stomach-churning dread melted away at the simple warmth of her skin against his.
“I had this crazy dream that I was rescued from a dragon by a hot firefighter who’s amazing in bed.” Despite her bold words, her touch was a little hesitant, as if she doubted her welcome. “And now it turns out he can cook, too. I hope I never wake up.”
“Good morning,” Dai said, turning around in her embrace to catch her in his own arms.
With a tiny sigh of relief, Virginia melted against him. For a moment, all he could think about was how right she felt, how perfectly their bodies fit together.
Then his guilt reared up again. I’m not worthy to hold her. I shouldn’t even touch her.
Nonetheless, Dai didn’t release her. He couldn’t bear her to think for even one second that he didn’t want her, or that she was just some casual one-night stand to him.
“I hope you’re hungry,” he said into her ear.
“Ravenous,” said Virginia. She leaned round him to peer into the pan. “Okay. Let me clarify that ‘ravenous’ doesn’t mean I can eat six eggs. I hope you’re hungry.”
“Actually, yes,” Dai said apologetically, releasing her.
Turning back to his cooking, he slid two eggs onto Virginia’s plate, and the rest onto his own. Shifting burned a lot of energy. He added the bacon to the plates, having some difficulty finding space for it next to the eggs, fried bread, sausage, and grilled tomatoes. “It was a busy night.”
Virginia raised her eyebrows, a teasing smile tugging at her lips. “Due to the fire or the dragon?”
Dai put a finger under her chip, tilting her face up for a long, deep kiss. “Neither,” he breathed.
Releasing her again, he picked up the plates. He tilted his head in the direction of the dining table, which was still piled with papers and archaeology tools. “I didn’t want to move anything you were working on, so I didn’t set the table. Where do you want to eat?”
“Oh, don’t worry, there’s nothing important out here.” Virginia cleared a space by the simple expedient of sweeping an arm across the table, jumbling papers into haphazard drifts. They sat down, and for a few moments were both fully occupied shoveling food.
“Dai,” Virginia said, when they’d both taken some of the edge off their hunger. She kept her eyes on her plate. “I have to tell you something. I haven’t been entirely honest with you.”
Dai, who’d finally worked up his nerve and opened his mouth to say the exact same thing, found himself totally nonplussed. He blinked at her across the table. “Oh?” he managed to say.
Virginia toyed with her fork. “You know last night, when I told you I hadn’t taken anything from Bertram?”
It took Dai a moment to cast his mind back to their earlier conversation, what with the much more significant events that had occurred later. “The dragon? Yes. Though he thinks that you did.” Virginia looked at him quizzically, and Dai clarified, “I talked to him last night, at the scene. He was, ah, angry.” He reached over the table to put his hand on hers in reassurance. “Don’t worry, I’ll sort it out with him. I’m sure he’ll be back in control of his dragon by now, and able to realize he made a terrible mistake.”
Virginia bit her lip. “The problem is, I kind of did take something.”
Dai sucked in his breath. “Something valuable?”
She nodded. “Not directly from his hoard, mind. But...I found a valuable historic artifact on land that his family owns. Under British law, they’d be entitled to half the value of the find.” She paused, then added, reluctantly, “Actually, in this case, probably the total value. I didn’t have their permission to be metal-detecting there. Anyway, I was thinking about what you said, that if I’d taken something it would cause ‘complications with draconic law.’“ She made air quotes with her fingers. “Is this a complication?”
Dai leaned his chair back on two legs, frowning as he thought. The situation wasn’t clear-cut. If Virginia had directly stolen from Bertram’s hoard, technically Dai would have had to return the treasure or risk being declared a rogue and hunted down by other dragons.
But since the treasure had just been on Bertram’s land...it could be argued that the other dragon hadn’t actually claimed the treasure itself, leaving it fair game for anyone else, human or dragon. Of course, it could also be argued that the land included any artifacts hidden within it.
Dai had a nasty feeling he knew which way Bertram would argue.
He sighed. “Unfortunately, yes. Possibly.” Catching sight of Virginia’s frightened eyes, he thumped the chair back down again, leaning across the table to catch her hand. “No. No, it’s not a complication, in that I am not going to let any dragon lay so much as a single claw on you. I am going to keep you safe, Virginia. I swear to you, I will keep you safe.”
Virginia squeezed his fingers. “I know you want to.
But safety isn’t everything.” Her jaw set in determination, though her eyes still betrayed her apprehension. “I’m not giving Bertram my find, even if it means he’s going to come after me. But I don’t want to put you in danger too.”
“Danger is just a standard day at the office, as far as I’m concerned,” Dai said with a wry smile. “Don’t worry about me. You take care of your job, and I’ll take care of mine.” Letting go of her hand, he picked up his fork again. “Which is to protect you from dragons.”
Virginia pushed bacon around on her plate, frowning a little in thought. “About that. Is Bertram going to keep trying to steal the artifact back, even after I’ve handed it in to the proper authorities? A find like this is legally classed as Treasure, so it belongs to the nation. Would he try to break into a museum collection?”
“No, I doubt he’d be that foolish. This Bertram might be willing to risk snatching something from you in a deserted field at midnight, but he’d be in serious trouble if he tried to steal from a museum.”
Virginia looked relieved. “You have no idea how glad I am to hear you say that. I was starting to wonder how good the British Museum’s anti-dragon defenses are.”
“Oh, anything in there belongs to the Queen,” Dai said around a mouthful of breakfast. “No one is going to interfere with her hoard.”
Virginia’s fork froze halfway to her mouth. “The Queen is a dragon?”
“Um. Probably best if you forget I said that,” Dai said. He waved a hand. “Anyway, the point is, dragons aren’t allowed to go around smashing their way into museums—or banks or shops, for that matter. The Parliament of Shifters—a sort of government—comes down very hard on that sort of thing. Dragons are too powerful and dangerous to be allowed to run riot.”
“So once I’ve reported my find and had the site properly declared an area of historic interest, Bertram will have to give up?” Virginia asked.
“Unless he wants to find himself branded a rogue. And trust me, he won’t want that. My team would have free license to hunt him down, as would all the other dragon-hunters nationwide. He’d have to flee the British Isles entirely.”
Virginia beamed. “Then all I have to do is make a few phone calls, and—oh, damn.” Her face fell. “It’s Sunday. I won’t be able to get hold of anyone until tomorrow morning.” For some reason, she cast a worried glance in the direction of the bedroom. “That gives Bertram a whole day.”
“Then I won’t leave your side for a single moment,” Dai said firmly. “If Bertram wants your find, he’ll have to get through me.”
Abruptly, Dai’s dragon reared up in his mind, roaring a challenge. At the same instant, the front door flew back on its hinges with an ear-splitting crash, revealing a tall, slender figure in a pale grey suit.
“That could be arranged,” said the other dragon shifter.
Chapter 7
“Bertram,” Virginia spat. Dai was already on his feet, interposing his body between her and the dragon shifter. “What are you doing here?”
“Mainly, being appalled.” Bertram came through the doorway as though forced to step into a swamp, glancing around her small apartment with a look of disdain. His nose wrinkled as his gaze fell on Dai. “Really, Virginia? I had such low expectations of your taste, and yet you still manage to disappoint me.”
“You are trespassing,” Dai said. His voice had dropped into a deep growl, with a distinct feral edge. He stalked toward Bertram, every muscle in his shoulders and arms tense and ready. “I think you should leave now.”
Even though Bertram was at least four inches shorter and a good deal lighter than Dai, he didn’t back down. Then again, he could turn into a fifty-foot dragon, after all, so Virginia supposed he had no particular reason to be intimidated by the firefighter’s greater size. He met Dai’s eyes coolly, lifting his chin a little.
“I possess a flawless four carat princess-cut diamond,” Bertram said, his own voice holding a hint of contained snarl.
Virginia blinked, but Dai halted as abruptly as if he’d just run into an invisible wall. His back straightened. “I possess an unworked nugget of Gwynfynydd gold, exceedingly fine.”
Bertram’s lip curled. “Hah. I possess four ingots of pure gold, each one a kilogram in weight.”
“What’s going on?” Virginia asked, looking back and forth between them.
The two men ignored her. They circled each other like cats preparing to fight, eyes fixed on each other.
“I possess a choker containing a dozen matched rubies of exceptional quality, set in platinum,” Bertram declared.
“I possess a flawless five carat cushion-cut emerald, surrounded by twenty diamonds, set in gold,” Dai countered.
Okay, Virginia thought in bemusement. Either firefighters in Britain are paid much better than they are back home in the States, or there’s a lot Dai hasn’t told me yet about his family.
She didn’t dare interrupt again. The mounting menace between the two men was almost visible, like a heat haze in the air between them.
Bertram sniffed. “I possess a flawless eight carat emerald, mounted in platinum. Are we going to continue to trade mere baubles, or do you have even a single item of real worth?”
Dai set his shoulders like a boxer entering the ring. “I possess a silver chalice, set with cabochon rubies and worked with gold, over six hundred years old.”
Bertram waved dismissively. “I possess a complete set of ten nested golden bowls, exquisitely chased, which I took myself from the burial chamber of King Cynewulf of Wessex.”
“You do?” Virginia exclaimed.
Dai’s jaw tightened. “I possess...the torc of Dafydd ap Llewelyn, first Prince of Wales.”
“You do?” Virginia said again.
“I see.” Bertram’s eyes narrowed. “And that is your greatest treasure?” His lean form angled forward, poised for Dai’s answer.
Dai’s own shoulders relaxed slightly, as though he felt he had the upper hand at last. “It is.”
“Oh, well then.” All the tension went out of Bertram’s body. He threw back his head, letting out a disdainful laugh. “I’ve barely even got started. I have nineteen gold torcs, some worn by kings so old their names are barely remembered. I have so many gold and silver coins from barrows, I can sleep on the pile full-length without even having to curl the tip of my tail. Little red, you could not even begin to imagine the scale of my hoard. Do you concede?”
Dai’s face was rigid. “I concede.”
“What on earth is going on here?” Virginia tugged at Dai’s arm. He felt like an iron statue. “Dai?”
Dai breathed out, looking down at her. Though his expression was still tightly controlled, some sixth sense told Virginia that he was mentally cursing himself. “You know the way that a lot of animals don’t usually straight-up fight each other, because there’s too much risk of getting seriously hurt? Like, say, sheep.”
“Sheep,” Bertram said. “Really?”
“In mating season, rams show off their horns to each other,” Dai said to Virginia, ignoring the interruption. “The ram with the biggest, most impressive horns gains dominance over all the others. Rams are big, strong animals who could seriously hurt each other in a real fight. Comparing horns lets them avoid that.” He gestured from himself to Bertram. “Dragons do something similar, except instead of comparing horns, they compare hoards.”
“Thankfully,” Bertram murmured, idly turning a hand so that the light flashed from his heavy gold signet ring.
“So the dragon with the biggest, most valuable hoard is the boss?” Virginia said, looking from Dai’s unhappy expression to Bertram’s smug one and back again. “But...you just have dragon blood, because of your ancestor. Surely this doesn’t apply to you?”
“Oh?” Bertram looked sharply at Dai, who glowered back. Virginia had an odd impression of some unspoken communication flashing between them. Abruptly, Bertram laughed again. “Indeed. Dragon...ancestry.” A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “My. Well, I s
uppose that is true. And you certainly aren’t a proper dragon.”
“Dragons have very strong instincts about dominance and submission rituals,” Dai said tightly. “They have to, otherwise they’d all have killed each other off long ago. I can’t help having those instincts too.”
Virginia’s heart sank. “Which means?”
“Which means that I am dominant over him, and he is thus bound to obey me,” Bertram said. His smile widened. “For example, I could order him to leave the city, right now.”
“Go ahead and try it,” Dai growled. He took a step closer to Virginia. “You’ll find that there are some instincts even stronger.”
“Mm.” Bertram’s gaze flicked from Dai to Virginia and back again. His lips pursed as if he’d bitten into a lemon. “How tiresome. But it is an inconvenience rather than an obstruction.” He tapped his forefinger thoughtfully against his chin. “Ah, I have it.” He pointed at Dai, his tone turning formal. “Daifydd Drake, by right of dominance I lay this restriction on you—while you are in my territory, you must appear as you do now.”
“What? Wearing jeans and a T-shirt?” For a moment, Virginia was perplexed—then she realized that Dai probably didn’t usually fight dragons with his bare hands. “Bertram, you can’t do that!”
“I can, and indeed, I have.” Bertram cocked his head at Dai. “Haven’t I?”
Dai’s face was expressionless, but his green eyes blazed with fury. “You are dominant over me. Don’t think that means I won’t punch you in the face.”
Bertram raised an eyebrow at him. “A threat, from someone who isn’t a dragon shifter? I suggest it would be wise to keep silent, little red, and let me talk.” He cast a sideways glance at Virginia. “Unless you want me to...talk.”
Virginia had the nagging feeling that she was missing about half of the conversation. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
