Dragon's Possession_BBW / Dragon Shifter Romance

by Isadora Montrose

  Understandably, Nicole was worried, and he had worried her more. It seemed a shame, but fear was your first defense. He had needed to make her afraid so she would prepare. What she ought to do was run. The Eldest had ordered them to guard her. Theo and the Maoris wanted him to make sure the Russians did not kidnap her. After learning what her experience with Felipe had been, he hated to frighten her more.

  Lars had known Felipe Balcazar Mendez all his life. He had admired him. He had believed him to be a fit mate for his cousin Christina of Severn, the Treasure of the House of Lindorm. Yet the entire time Felipe and his parents had been negotiating a marriage between the heir of the Duke of Estremaura and Christina, Lord Felipe had been a fucking rapist. Since April, the Lindorms had known that Felipe was a murderous thief, but this was worse. Stomach-churning worse. Chrissy had been damned lucky.

  The bleak look in Nicole’s expressive eyes when she had told her unvarnished tale would stay with him for a long time. What kind of animal sold his stepdaughter to a stranger? What kind of animal bought her? Nicole had described the sort of barbarism that modern day dragons prided themselves on having outgrown. Lars’ own ancestor Bujold the One-Eyed had had four ‘wives’ and three times that many concubines, but Lars sure as hell didn’t expect to hear that one of his brothers or cousins was raping and pillaging virgins.

  It was a good thing that the Balcazar Mendez was already dead.

  Given the circumstances of her marriage, he couldn’t blame Nicole for not wanting to tell Matteo about his heritage. But it was imperative that the boy did not walk blindly into his first shift. Not that telling him was Lars’ first priority. That was making sure the Russians did not murder Nicole and Matteo in their beds.

  Nikki was such a stubborn little thing. He dwarfed her. He alarmed her. But that cozy little armful didn’t back down. Her stubbornness was cute – although he wouldn’t tell her that. He knew enough about women to know she would take offense. But cute, curvy, and resolute, or not, those Russian bastards would do worse to her than Felipe had done. Whatever Voros and the Eldest thought, he had to persuade her to vamoose.

  * * *

  It was weird having Lars around. Weird but comforting. Was this what being married was like? Lars hung around all the time. He walked Matteo to school. That was a luxury. Matt was probably old enough to walk the half mile by himself, but Nicole had never felt sufficiently secure to let him go alone, and the twice a day trips sucked up her life. Besides, her son was blossoming in the warmth of adult male attention.

  Lars was endlessly patient with Matteo’s questions. Her son could turn a simple question into an interrogation faster than anyone she had ever met, but Lars answered the last query with as much kindness as the first. He would not let Matt have unrestricted use of his tablet, but he was willing to let the boy look long up strings of things while he supervised. And he always double-checked where her baby surfed.

  The week Lars had paid for was drifting to a close, and still the threatened Russians had not shown up. Perhaps they never would. Would Lars and his comrades just vanish as mysteriously as they had appeared? Surely they could not mean to spend the rest of their lives in dusty Santa Rosa del Pampas?

  Lars had inspected every room in the villa. He had helped her to booby trap the empty ones so that any intruders trying to come through a window would make a loud racket. “It won’t do much besides give you a few moments to run,” he warned. “It would be safer for you and the boy if you let me take you away.”

  “Where would we go?” she demanded wearily. She was tired of this argument. “Matteo has no passport. If the bad guys can find us in Santa Rosa del Pampas, they can find us anywhere in Argentina.”

  “We’re working on a refuge for you. Somewhere defensible.” His voice was pleading. “Let us keep you safe.”

  “What about Dolores?”

  “She would be safer if you were gone. Other dragons will wait for the Russians – deal with them. They would keep an eye on Dolores.”

  “But would I ever be able to return?” she asked. “I already have Tia Evita’s nephew breathing down my neck. I’ll bet Alberto Bernal would move in here the day I left. And I would never get my property back.”

  Lars balanced a metal rod on a tower of empty cans that each contained a handful screws. “What do you mean?”

  “My aunts left me this house. But their nephew Alberto has always maintained that I am an impostor.” Nicole shook her head. “Possession is nine-tenths of the law. I’ll bet that jerk would claim the villa the second I walked out, and I would have to take him to court to get it back. If I could afford to – which I can’t.”

  They wandered into Matteo’s room. Her son’s bed was made up in its usual haphazard way. Nicole controlled her impulse to straighten the covers. Matt had to be responsible for his own room. His collection of stones marched in a row in front of the books on his shelves.

  Lars inspected the glass jars gravely. This week Matt’s pebbles were sorted by size. Last week he had sorted them by color. The month before by shape. Since toddlerhood, he had been fascinated by little stones. He knew precisely how many he had in each jar, and where he had found each one.

  “Tell me about this Alberto.” Lars said as he pushed Matt’s dresser under the window so that the interior blinds were obstructed.

  His face did not change even when her story petered out. “You would be better out of this place,” he said. He arranged Matt’s bottles of stones in a pyramid on the dresser, frowned at them and settled on a less stable formation. “You better take the boy to sleep in your room. When they come in this way, there will be glass everywhere.”

  “What makes you guys so different from the Russians?” she asked Lars’ back.

  He turned so abruptly she took a step backward. The anger on his face alarmed her. But his voice was mild when he spoke. It was as if he had been waiting for her question. “The Russians are rogues, run by the biggest rogue of all. The Council of the Guild of Dragons is the governing body of all European Dragonry. We have civilized ourselves. We no longer act like thugs. We don’t attack mortals. We invest in industry and work for peace.”

  “Just a bunch of do-gooders,” she said skeptically.

  He laughed. “Not really. But compared to the bad old days when dragons plundered Europe, we are decent citizens. We brought to an end a thousand years of Dragon Wars that kept mortals cold and hungry, and ushered in the Enlightenment. Now we police our own. Because civilization is just a veneer on top of our ancient gifts. When you fly over the pampas, what keeps you from igniting the grass?”

  Nicole’s mouth fell open. “I would never do such a thing,” she sputtered.

  “Why?” His voice was as calm as if he were talking to Matt about some exotic creature they had discovered on the net.

  “For a start, it would destroy the animals that live there.”

  He nodded. “But watching them flee the flames would be amusing.”

  “Not to me,” she snapped.

  “That’s because you have compassionate instincts. You cannot understand the savagery that guides a rogue like your late, unlamented husband.”

  “Felipe was a rogue?”

  “Certainly. He bought and raped a child. He courted my cousin, even though he was married to another. He killed the Grand Duke of Juist. And that is just a small sample of his crimes.”

  “Wait a bit, I thought you told me that dragons only had boys? What cousin?” Nicole felt smug at catching Lars in an inconsistency.

  “My cousin Christina was the first daughter born to our house in seven hundred years. Felipe was chosen to be her husband.” Lars shook his head. “No one knew about you, or the negotiations would never have gotten far.”

  “Your cousin had to have an arranged marriage?” Nicole asked appalled.

  “Not exactly. But since her very existence was a closely guarded secret, the Eldest of our House chose a bridegroom his intuition told him would make her a good husband.”

  Nicol
e rolled her eyes. “You guys are from the Dark Ages.”

  “Not at all. Christina liked Felipe. They seemed well matched. But he kept refusing to set a date. Turned out he was already married.” Lars rolled his shoulders. “To you. His death leaves you vulnerable. As his widow, you can now be claimed by right of capture.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Red branded his cheekbones. “It’s an old custom. A dragon who transforms a virgin gets to marry her. And when dragoness is widowed, she goes to the first one lucky enough to seize her.” He held up one large, well-shaped hand. “It is said, that capturing a female creates a bond that lasts a lifetime.”

  “So what went wrong between me and Felipe?”

  “I don’t know. Like I said, he was a rogue. And so are any dragons heading this way. And it is not just dragons. We have been warned that there are a couple of tigers and some bears in the mix.” He moved a pace closer. His hands fisted themselves at his sides as though he resisted the impulse to touch her. “Let me get you away. Let me keep you and Matteo safe.”

  For the first time she wavered. And then she stiffened her spine and recalled how persuasive that toe-rag Felipe had been. He had virtually hypnotized her. Later she had wondered at her credulity. What made her think this silver-tongued dragon was any different?

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Given how worn everything in the house was, Lars had expected his mattress to be lumpy and saggy. But it was firm and supportive. He had slept well for the last few days. Tonight, he had opened the blinds and shutters but left the window closed against the dusty wind. He lay on the bed fully clothed, listening to the howling Zonda. Arms behind his head, he contemplated the ceiling and his Fate.

  Waimarie had ordered Lars to stand down tonight. But his eyes could not close. His room smelled of the widow. It had been a long time since he had felt such an intense physical attraction to any woman. He tried to think of Annalise, but tonight he could not conjure her blonde beauty. His mind was filled with the curvaceous charms of Nicole Estevan Y Garcia. Because she had charms. Considerable charms. Once she removed her pinafore, her generous hourglass figure and round, ripe rump were revealed. When she smiled she was pretty.

  Not that Nicole was trying to entice him. When she spoke to him her tongue was tart. Her attitude hostile. Nevertheless he could smell her sexual arousal. Even in this room, that she had only cleaned, he could still detect her alluring scent. Could Fate have sent him a second wife, a second mate?

  He had been furious at Theodor when his cousin had commented approvingly on Nikki. Even though Theo had been no more than politely complimentary. Probably what Lars was taking for proof that he had found a mate, was no more than any male dragon’s reaction to a nubile and unmated dragoness. An attraction to be resisted rather than acted on by a widower still in love with his wife.

  The staircase creaked under stealthy footsteps. The widow was going out again. As if he hadn’t impressed upon her the necessity of vigilance. Waimarie’s instructions had been plain. Lars was to guard the dragoness. She was not to fall into the hands of the Russians. He would just have to assume that Waimarie’s sentries were sufficient to guard the sprat. He got out of bed and followed Nicole out into the night.

  Winston was lurking in the deep shadows of the alleyway. He smirked at Lars, who ignored him. Nicole did not lock the wrought iron grille behind her. Lars loped after her scooter. It was second nature to keep himself away from streetlights. He ran swiftly, silently through the shadows. As he ran, he acknowledged how much the chase intensified his desire for Nicole.

  When the streets petered out into cow tracks, Lars stopped running. He undressed in a clump of towering pampas grass that even in the early spring already swayed above his head. He emerged naked from its shelter and leapt upwards with a single powerful bound. He instantly took dragon, and flew after Nikki.

  She parked in the same place she had parked before. Lars hovered protectively overhead as she removed her clothes and became a large female dragon. It was hard even for his transformed eyes to focus on her plumage. It glowed and pulsed in a most unusual manner.

  He had never seen anything like it on any dragon before. But surely he had heard about it? A boyhood lesson came back to him. Nicole might just be a plasma dragon. They were rare, but he remembered the Eldest telling him and his brothers that some of their line possessed the gift of ionizing gas. It made a plasma dragon breathe fire many times hotter than other dragons.

  Whether or not Nicole was a plasma dragon, her plumage pulsed and altered as she flew. Blue, green, violet flared and subsided. Lars had no intention of loudly proclaiming his passion, yet out of his throat emerged the anguished trumpeting of a lovelorn male dragon. Nicole spun swiftly away from him, and then returned his bugling cry with a plaintive, beckoning whistle of her own.

  She began to dance. He remembered this. Had not he and Annalise celebrated the Aurora Borealis with just such a display? Had he not waltzed through the sky with his wife until dawn came and they returned to their tangled bed? Part of him said it was wrong of him to frolic with this female. And yet he seemed to have no self-control tonight. He matched her move for move, showing her his prowess in the air, demonstrating that he was her mate.

  He was behaving for all the world as if nothing were more important than wooing this female. As if the dangers they faced were as nothing in the face of his lust. She began to imitate his aerial choreography. She mirrored his every move as if she knew it in advance. As if they were joined mind to mind. And then terror altered her scent. She took off as if all the Furies were after her.

  Lars heard himself calling disconsolately after her. At least, he had enough self-discipline not to attempt her capture. Nicole had been wounded by Felipe. She was desperately afraid. Her mind divided. He had to remember that his assignment was to protect her. If necessary, against himself. He watched Nikki return to human. By Thor, she was beautiful. Too bad those baggy jeans of hers and ancient jacket covered her beauty.

  He flew after her until her scooter passed his clothes. He landed, returned to human himself, dressed, and ran after her. And once again in pursuing her, he found his blood throbbing with possessiveness.

  * * *

  It had probably been foolish to feel that Matt was safe in the house because Lars Lindorm was there. But she had. Despite everything her common sense told her, that big blond dragon made her feel safe – sort of. These days when she felt she had to fly, it was usually because of a deeper, internal restlessness that she could not pin down. But tonight, what she felt was hunted.

  Nicole seen no one, heard nothing, as she headed out to the open pampas. She had parked the scooter in her usual spot and stripped to the skin. She took dragon quickly. The Zonda was blowing less fiercely tonight, but the wind still carried particles of sand that stung her bare skin. Not that she noticed it once she had transformed into a heavily armored reptile. She launched herself into the air seeking peace. It was elusive tonight.

  And then out of the dark night came the bugling cry of her mate. She knew what it was, even though she had never heard that song before. The bellowing tugged at her heart and urged her to seek and be claimed. But her wings had a mind of their own. They drew her away from that alluring noise and sent her swerving and rolling through the sky on wings that shimmered and billowed.

  A great shadow blanked the moon. She glanced upward. All she could see was the black outline of an enormous dragon. He bugled his desire once again. His song told her how desirable she was, how his heart yearned for hers. She darted away, inviting pursuit. Fearing capture. The big male matched her movements. He continued to call until she joined his masculine song with a feminine counterpoint of her own higher-pitched whistles. He immediately spun away and invited her to a new dance.

  In the starlight this dragon had very little color. But his scent was the scent of a dragon in his prime. Rich, potent, masculine. Her body told her that this was her mate. Her mind warned her it was a trap. She drew his scent deep
into her lungs. It was Lars Lindorm. No one was guarding her child. That faithless fool had abandoned Matteo. She executed a rapid barrel roll, electrified her wings so that they pulsed with cautionary lights, and headed back to her scooter.

  She left Lars’ dragon trumpeting forlornly and flapping his great wings in baffled dismay. He made no attempt to seize her. He circled overhead while she made her transformation to human and put her clothes back on. She tried to summon some indignation at being spied on, but the thought of his eyes on her naked female form was more arousing than frightening. Which was of course a perfectly good reason for her to be afraid. In this matter, she was confident that her intuition was no guide.

  * * *

  It wasn’t hard to catch up with Nikki. She was clearly used to traveling in the dark. Of course, the transformation to dragoness had given her better vision than humans normally possessed. But her need for silence slowed her. Lars followed her without difficulty. Stretching his legs and pumping his arms gave his body the vigorous exercise it needed after the frustration of being abandoned in the sky.

  Love was supposed to happen quickly. Lars didn’t know if this was always true. He did not remember the first time he had met Annalise. He was only three years older than she was, and his mother and hers were distant relatives. It was more accurate to say that he did not remember when he hadn’t known Annalise. But he recalled the first time he had looked across a room and known that his Annalise was the female he was going to spend the rest of his life with. Which was some time before Lady Drake had matched them.

  She had only been sixteen. And he a gawky nineteen. Newly commissioned. Splitting his time between his duties as the sword bearer to the Eldest, and the Naval Academy. Busy. Stretched to his maximum. Neither his parents nor Lord Lindorm would agree to his marrying until he was at least twenty-five. And Annalise’s parents had not wanted to agree even to that. Annalise had wanted to wait until she had finished her medical studies. So they had waited. The few years they’d had before her death now seemed all too few.