“They lend protection.” He headed toward the center of the cave where he crouched, rubbed some rocks together and started a fire in a small rock-rimmed pit. “Come here, Shannon. Warm yourself.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t use magic to start that,” she said as she joined him, glad for the warmth. She was soaked, and her teeth were starting to chatter. “But at least wood was conveniently waiting for you.”
“Again, something we can probably thank my aunt and uncle for,” he said as he stood and eyed a nearby woodpile. “Unfortunately, it seems I can no longer use my magic in Helheim so I cannot warm you that way.” He grabbed a few furs off the huge bed in the corner and returned. “We need to get you undressed.”
“Do we?” She couldn’t help a small smile. “I’m not sure that’s such a great idea considering where we are.”
“No matter how many furs I put around you, you will not get warm wearing those wet clothes.” He dropped the furs and came close. So close her breath caught. “Let me help.”
All she could do was smile and raise her arms as he pulled her shirt over her head. For some reason, she had never felt anything as erotic as the way he peeled off her wet clothing. How sensual it felt as his warm hands trailed in the wake of the wet material. How the friction of their weapon-roughened texture set her icy skin on fire. Then how his pupils flared as he drank in the sight of her.
Her mind might be telling her this wasn’t the best time for sex, but her body disagreed. And besides, technically she was dead which meant she would likely be passing on soon. So why not enjoy intimacy while she could?
“No,” she whispered as he leaned over to get a fur to wrap around her. “I’m warm enough right now.” And so aroused it hurt. “Your turn.” She found it just as erotic to undress him. The way his wet, muscled flesh became more and more revealed in the firelight. The heavy erection that told her he wanted her just as much as she did him.
Again, she couldn’t help but appreciate his form. He was beautifully made. His hard body chiseled and carved to perfection from years of fighting. Random long-healed battle wounds slashed here and there down his chest, abdomen, and arms. Though barely visible to the eye, she felt their slight ridges. As she did, flashes of how he had received them arose in her mind. All the battles and skirmishes.
“So many of them,” she whispered as she trailed her fingers over the tribal markings across his chest. “These symbolize your dragon wings, don’t they?”
He nodded, his muscles tight as he let her explore. As he watched her enjoy him. And she did, thoroughly, as she continued her way down his body and fell to her knees. He wrapped his hands into her hair and groaned as she took him into her mouth. Nothing aroused her more than looking up and seeing his eyes half-mast in ecstasy as she pleasured him. She enjoyed tasting him. Pleasing him. And she didn’t stop until he flung his head back, trembled and groaned her name as he released.
His breathing remained harsh and ragged as he sank to his knees too. She had questions for him. Things they needed to discuss. But as he cupped the sides of her neck and his lips brushed hers, she forgot what they were.
All reasonable thought fled as his eyes burned with fire and he pushed her back onto a fur. Then it was pure sensation as he tasted and stroked every last inch of her. Pleasure rocketed through her with every nip of his teeth and flick of his tongue. She grew so hot and needy it almost felt like her blood was boiling.
By the time his lips closed over hers again, she was well beyond desperate.
“Matthew,” she whispered between kisses. “Please.”
The next thing she knew, she was flipped on her hands and knees. Yet he still didn’t give her what she needed but continued exploring, kissing and worshiping every little part of her. By the time his tongue trailed up her spine, she had already released several times. Now she was shaking and barely able to hold herself up.
Yet still, she wanted more.
She needed him inside her.
“Please,” she begged.
Matthew brushed aside her hair and kissed the back of her neck before his mouth came close to her ear. He didn’t say anything. Not yet. Instead, he wedged her legs further apart and pulled her back against his chest. She groaned with relief as he held her close and worked his way into her. Not surprisingly, he only made it halfway before she locked up and another orgasm ripped through her.
He didn’t thrust deeper but held her close and stroked between her legs to elongate her release. Dragon mates or not, he was damn good at this. Not just the pleasuring part but making her feel beautiful and desired. Most men weren’t capable of bringing it all together so well. Perfecting not just the art of sex but lovemaking.
All the while, she could see them in the shields. The intensity and pleasure on his face. The bliss softening hers. How good they looked together. Complimentary. When his eyes met hers in one of the shields, she knew he felt the same.
Once her release started to wane, he fully entered her.
He held her like that, unmoving, for several moments, his head bent close to hers, his warm breath fanning her cheek. As if he was cherishing the moment. Holding onto it. And he was based on the emotions washing over her.
His emotions.
How impressed he had felt when she shifted into a dragon.
How enraged he became when he watched her die.
Then there was the heartbreak and anguish. The blind desperation to reconnect with her. Find her. Be with her even in death. That’s when, as if the gods heard him, or more likely a demi-god uncle, he faded and ended up in Helheim. Back to where the dart brought him.
Back to her.
“I love you, mate,” he murmured, his voice soft, the dragon flickering within his steady gaze.
“I love you too,” she whispered and tilted her head back, so their cheeks brushed against each other. Nuzzled. Like him, she could feel what they had. Not just now but before. In another life. “And I’ve missed you.”
He dropped a kiss on her cheek, then temple before he shifted just enough to let her know he was desperate for her. That he needed to keep moving. She understood and rolled her hips back in invitation.
Matthew released a low growl of approval before he began thrusting.
She was so sensitive at that point every move he made sent sharp shivers of pleasure through her. The more she cried out, the faster, and more passionately he thrust. When she sensed him fighting his dominant nature, that of the dragon, she growled, “No,” and fell to her hands again, then her forearms.
Clearly pleased with her submissive offering, he released another low growl, gripped her hips and increased his pace. For a split second she could have sworn she saw flashes of wings and scales and talons in the shields. Some black, some emerald green. Yet a blink later they were gone, and nothing but the impassioned vision of two humans mating remained.
That was the word that came to mind.
Mating.
Not making love or having sex.
As if he sensed it or saw it as well, Matthew’s fervor only increased.
And so did hers.
By the time he thrust the final time and pressed deep in release, both were making animalistic sounds of pleasure. Part roar, part growl. Shannon climaxed so hard, she blacked out. Or so she assumed because when she awoke, they were spooning and Matthew was sound asleep.
She turned and stared at him for a long time, admiring his features, more so how they relaxed when he slept. His lips were curled up slightly as if he were on the verge of a smile. As though he couldn’t help himself. She had only caught him smiling a few times since all this started and the remarkable transformation only added to his looks.
It had stopped raining and if she wasn’t mistaken, only a few hours before sunset.
At some point, Matthew had built a makeshift rack then hung their clothes by the fire. Shannon carefully pulled away, pleased to find her pants and shirt dry as she dressed and eyed their surroundings. Again, she got an overwhelming sense of
loneliness and knew it was Matthew’s residual energy from the other side.
She had just crouched at the shore to splash water on her face when something caught her attention. A tall gash in the rock. Curious, she grabbed a torch from a wall bracket, lit it on the fire, and then ventured in.
The further she walked, the lighter she felt.
Somehow, this had been a lifeline for him. Soon enough, she discovered why when images started to appear. Carved into the rock, they depicted various things, but all of them had one thing in common.
Håkon.
She held her torch up to one and ran her fingers over a depiction of him holding hands with a redheaded woman as he showed her drawings on another cave wall. Samantha?
“Yes, that is your sister.” She almost jumped out of her skin—or ethereal body—when Matthew’s deep voice rumbled behind her. She hadn’t heard him approach let alone sensed him. “You startled me,” she gasped as their eyes met. “Way to sneak up on a girl.”
“I did not sneak up,” he murmured as he reeled her closer. “You were just deep in thought.”
“I was,” she conceded. Her breath caught as he took the torch then kissed her. Not a light, fleeting kiss but one that said he missed her in the short span they had been apart. By the time he was done, her knees were weak and her breathing choppy.
“What is this place?” she finally managed as her eyes returned to all the images of Håkon.
“It is like the tunnel Bjorn created between his lair, and my son’s so that Håkon could visit him when he was lonely,” he said softly. “I created this one after Sigrunn died so I could visit Håkon without him knowing.”
“And the images?” she said, pained for him, sorry that he felt he had to stay away. That had to have been so difficult. “What are they?”
“Where Bjorn’s tunnel is full of images he carved to keep Håkon’s memories of his time with Sigrunn and me fresh, these are images I created of everything that has happened to Håkon since Sigrunn left.” His eyes went to the one she had been touching. “That’s of Håkon showing Samantha Bjorn’s images.” He clenched his jaw, clearly trying to fight emotions. “I created these to feel like I was with him more often and so that he might someday look at them and know that I never stopped caring about him.”
Her chest clenched. How thoughtful…and sad. “That’s really touching, Matthew.” She took his hand and offered a warm smile. “You draw well.”
“No.” He shook his head and managed a guilty grin in return. “Bjorn does. Sven does. But not me. Mine are made from dragon magic.”
More and more, she was catching glimpses of what she suspected was the ‘old’ him. Laughter in his eyes. A charming smile hovering just beneath the surface.
“So Håkon doesn’t know about these?” Her eyes met his. “How did you keep them from him considering how connected we dragons are?”
“No, he never knew. Nobody did.” He shrugged. “Though we’re closely connected we can shut off our thoughts from one another.” They continued walking past endless images. Moments Håkon had experienced over the past two years. “When I wasn’t with him, which was more often than not, I followed my kins’ thoughts and memories to create these.”
“And how did you hide this tunnel?” she asked as they exited the other side and moved into another lair. Håkon’s lair. “I would’ve thought Bjorn at the least would have detected it.”
“No.” He shook his head. “This was once my lair. That allows me and my dragon a certain power over it. A connection. My kin, including Håkon, would not see the tunnel if I did not want them to.”
She was surprised when red skirted her vision as her eyes swept over the cave. Not only that, she was shocked by the acute sense of jealousy she felt.
“You brought Sigrunn here too,” she murmured. “This was your family’s lair.”
Of course, he did. She had been his wife. The mother of his child. But that didn’t stop Shannon’s inner dragon from feeling a variety of inappropriate emotions.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered and headed back down the tunnel, frustrated with her strong response. “I’m not used to my dragon—”
Before she could get the next word out, her back was against the wall, and he was cupping her cheek, his words soft. “It’s all right, Shannon. You are allowed to feel the way you do. I felt it too when I was around Anthony.” His brows lowered in frustration, and his voice deepened. “We were mates before. Dragon mates. And we had a family. You and I. So no matter how well it worked out in this life with our partners, we are allowed to feel rage and jealousy.” He shifted closer, his gaze only intensifying. “Do you understand?”
She did. Because she clearly saw the pain in his eyes and though he would never say it, the distrust he felt toward Anthony. The anger he experienced knowing Anthony had been with Matthew’s mate and had Matthew’s daughter. And she didn’t blame him. It was strange that Anthony had desired her in one life and got her in another. Stranger still, that they had Emily, the reincarnate of her and Matthew’s daughter.
Yet they both knew it was behind them now. They would likely never get an explanation for any of it if there even was one. What mattered now was that they had come back together.
All four of them.
And that had to mean something. That this might just end well.
She was about to reply when a strange look crossed over Matthew’s face. A second later, she felt what he did as he pulled her after him.
Something was coming.
Or someone.
The last thing she expected to see was Emily’s Viking boat coming ashore. More so, who manned it.
Matthew.
Just like he had been in Maine when he jumped aboard.
A little boy.
Chapter Sixteen
MATTHEW HAD NO idea what to make of himself.
Literally.
After all, it wasn’t every day that you met yourself at a younger age. This was the boy Shannon had seen in Maine. The reason she knew he was a reincarnate and still had one foot in each world.
The boy said nothing, only gestured for them to get in the boat.
“Should we?” Shannon murmured. “What if it’s another trap?”
“I don’t think it is.” His eyes went to the Laben-rune glowing on its sail. Now, in this place, he understood. “There’s a protection spell weaved into that sail.” He kept her hand in his as they headed for the boat. “And it’s powerful.”
Little Matthew said nothing but sat patiently as they joined him. Shannon sat next to him and Matthew across from them as he took up the oars and started rowing.
“Thanks for coming to get us.” Shannon offered little Matthew a warm smile. “Where are we going now?”
He gave no reply, just stared in Matthew’s general direction as though waiting for something before his eyes fell to Shannon’s pocket.
The one that held Emily’s snow globe.
Within moments, the wind caught the sail, and they started moving. So Matthew sat on the other side of the boy and started manning the rudder. The boat was large enough that they didn’t have to worry about balancing the weight.
“I think he wants Emily’s keychain,” she whispered. “What should I do?”
Matthew wished he had the answer. “What are your instincts telling you?”
Shannon’s eyes held his for a moment before they went to the boy and she pulled out the snow globe. Her voice remained soft. “Is this what you’re looking for?”
His eyes brightened, and he nodded.
A strange sensation rolled through Matthew as he peered more closely at the globe. Was he mistaken or were they inside of it? All of them sitting in this very boat on the ocean. No sooner did he think it than his mother and father materialized on the bench across from them. They were transparent and gazing at the sky.
His father’s magic was at work. He recognized it.
This was the night Matthew had been conceived.
“Those are your pare
nts, aren’t they?” Shannon whispered. “Raknar and Veronica.”
“Yes,” he murmured. “I think we are seeing a glimpse into their past. They are much younger.”
Her eyes followed theirs, and she whispered, “Oh, wow.”
At first, it was just a brightening of the flickering stars.
Then something started to happen.
Movement.
Something started to take shape and shift across the sky from left to right, north to south. A long trail of warriors raced after hounds and horses.
“It is the Wild Hunt,” Raknar murmured to his mother. “Odin’s hunt.”
Like his mother’s, Shannon’s eyes widened as the long band of warriors turned and raced from the mountains in their direction. While they saw them as solid people, he knew his parents saw them as entities.
“Holy crap,” Veronica whispered and grasped his father’s hand tighter.
“Don’t be afraid,” he murmured. “They but pass over. When they do, you may see…”
As they flew overhead, stars seemed to scatter everywhere, falling, drifting, hovering around them. Matthew smiled at his mother’s thoughts. She felt as though they were suddenly sitting inside a magical snow globe. Better yet, that they were sitting high in the sky and part of the stars themselves.
Little did she know how close she was to being right.
Then he realized what else she was experiencing.
The sudden smell of sweetness in the air.
How enthralled she became by the featureless spirits passing over.
Matthew closed his eyes, caught by the feeling that he was there. One of them. A spirit floating overhead. Images started to slam into his mind. A dark night. His mother screaming in denial. Somehow he knew where he was. The twenty-first century. He was young. Very young. And strangers had just stolen Veronica’s car with him still in it.
Then everything spun out of control.
Lights flashed.
The car flipped.
That had been the night he died in his previous life.
A blink later, he was standing on the side of an unfamiliar road watching a car pull out of an apartment complex. Why was he here? Then he knew. This was Erica’s place and the car pulling out was Anthony’s. As if he knew Matthew would be standing there, Anthony looked directly at him, took his hands off the wheel and nodded.
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