Fire in His Fury

by Ruby Dixon

  For a moment, I lose myself. I give in to the fires and let them consume me. Hatred and rage thunder through my mind and I feel it ripple over me like a palpable force. There is nothing here except the need to kill and hurt, like this world hurts my spirit.

  But…

  There is no pale-haired, fragile mate in the rage. There is no delicate hand touching mine. No soft sounds coming from her throat when I touch her, no pleasure-scent when I lean close.

  It is for those things I will stay, even though the fires call at me. I force myself to focus on her, to close my eyes and concentrate on her scent. The fires in my mind recede, the need to hurt and destroy tamping down.

  For now, it is enough.

  I bring my frustration and rage back under control and return to her side. She watches me with worry in her gaze, and I caress her cheek. Her mind is closed when I reach out to her, as it always is, and I bite back my frustration.

  Soon.

  9

  AMY

  Sam’s rage is palpable.

  I’m losing him, I think. He’s been pretty “with it” for an unmated dragon, but I can tell his hold is slipping. As the hours go past, he gets twitchier and the black creeps into his eyes a little more. I know it’s just a matter of time before he goes completely insane once more and then I don’t know what I’ll do. There are times he seems to be okay and times that he stares off at the shadows, as if seeing something that isn’t there. It’s a little creepy and more than that, it’s alarming.

  If he completely loses control, I can’t defend myself. I’ll be toast.

  It’s definitely a concern. There’s part of me that thinks he wouldn’t harm me because he wants me as a mate, but then he gets that wild-eyed look on his face and zones out, and not even talking to him can reach him. This morning, I found him staring out the window, unmoving and unblinking. It was like he was in a trance, and when I crept up to see what was going on, his eyes were completely black. I went back to bed and hid under the blankets despite the stuffiness of the room and waited.

  It took him forever—hours, maybe—to snap out of that. I wish I had a watch so I could time it, but all I know is that it went on far too long. During that time, if I spoke or made any noise, he didn’t move. It was like he wasn’t there.

  It’s the unpredictability of his personality that worries me. If he’s not in his own mind, how will he know not to hurt me? Am I going to get the blank zombie this day, the bloodthirsty killer, or the affectionate dragon-man who wants a mate? I wish I’d thought to ask Claudia more questions about how she and Kael got together so I’d know how to handle this.

  I think of how unprepared I was for all of this and could just cry.

  Today, Sam seems to be with me. Mostly. He had a bad morning, but right now he peers over my shoulder and watches me as I dig through one of the maid carts I found down the hallway, looking for anything to eat. There’s nothing, of course, but I do find fluffy towels and fancy soaps and shampoos.

  And that reminds me that the shower just might work. I’ve held off on using it because Sam’s been unpredictable, but as sweaty hour after sweaty hour passes, I feel more and more grimy. Of course, I know that going to take a shower will mean that Sam is going to follow me in, because he doesn’t like for me to leave his sight. That’s just another reason I’ve put it off. I’m not sure I want to put it off for much longer, though. I can practically feel my stink following me like a cloud. If dragons are driven by scent, I don’t think I’m going to be safe for much longer if I smell strongly.

  I’ve got no perfume to disguise my scent, either.

  I collect a few of the soaps and shampoos and bring them back to the penthouse. If I can’t cover my scent with perfumes, maybe I can scrub it away. I set my things in the large bathroom, turn the water on, and light a candle so I have some light. The shower runs dirty and reddish for a moment, then begins to run clear, so I let it run for a few moments, adding my soaps and shampoos to the lip for such things inside the shower itself. Sam follows me in the bathroom, because of course he does, and the dragon-man sniffs at everything I touch. He finds the candle amusing, snorting loud enough that he almost puts the flame back out before pushing it aside and picking up a towel. He rubs it against his face, then tosses it to the ground as if it’s garbage. With a tiny sigh, I pick it up again and neatly fold it. “That’s not for you, it’s for me.”

  He moves closer as I speak, his eyes flicking with gold as if the sound of my voice pleases him. He reaches out to stroke my cheek, and I let him, as long as his eyes remain more gold than black. I don’t return the favor, because I don’t want to get distracted away from my shower. When he lowers his hand, I take his wrist and point into the penthouse, then lead him out of the bathroom.

  Sam follows me easily…at least until I indicate that he should stay, and then I whirl and head back into the bathroom as quickly as I can, locking the door behind me. “Quick shower,” I call out in my happiest voice. “Be right back!” It won’t be a hot shower, but I don’t care. A nice cool trickle of water over my skin sounds wonderful right now.

  I hear the dragon-man growl on the other side of the door, and the entire thing shakes, the knob twisting. When it doesn’t open, he snarls louder, and the entire door shakes on its hinges from the force of his rattling. “Just a minute,” I say in my cheeriest voice. This is going to have to be the world’s quickest shower, because he’s not going to let me leave his sight for a second. “You know no one’s in here,” I say in my most soothing tone, even as I slip my shoes off and slide my arms underneath my T-shirt to pull off my bra and panties. “It’s perfectly safe, Sam. Don’t worry, okay?”

  His low snarl turns to a bellow of rage, and the moment I let my panties slide to the floor, a fist crashes through the wooden door. I gasp, stumbling backward as the entire thing shudders, and when he pulls his arm back, a large panel of the wood falls to the floor. Sam glares through the shambles of the bathroom door at me, and then proceeds to finish breaking it until he can walk in.

  “Seriously?” I ask, frustrated. I lean over to scoop my panties up off the ground. “You couldn’t let me have five minutes alone to get clean? You—”

  I break off in shock as he snatches my panties from my hand and lifts them to his nose.

  Oh my god. I’m so embarrassed. I stare in mortified horror as he takes a deep breath of them. They can’t smell…good at this point. But he doesn’t care, it seems. As I watch, his eyes go completely gold and he gives me this intense look that makes my body react. Nervous, I tug at the hem of the T-shirt I’m wearing, trying to make it long enough to cover all of my parts. It does, but just barely. “Can I have those back, please?”

  The dragon-man lowers them from his nose, but instead of returning them to me like I’ve asked, he begins to loop them around his wrist, next to the worn scraps of fabric he wears on his arm all the time.

  I grab his hand, surprised. “What are you doing?”

  He gazes at me, eyes flooded with both black and gold equally, his expression on the edge. I feel this intense frustration rolling off of him, and as I glance farther down, I notice he’s completely erect. There’s no mistaking his reaction. The smell of me has turned him on. I guess I’ll let him keep my panties, if…

  Hang on.

  I turn his wrist and angle his hand toward the candlelight, because I want to get a closer look at that worn fabric he’s wearing. It’s gray and tattered from sun exposure, but when I touch the fabric, it feels familiar. I run my fingers along the elastic, and then I see it—a tiny bow, like the kind a girl has on her panties.

  These are my panties. The ones I left behind for a dragon to find.

  I gasp, looking up into Sam’s eyes. “You’re the one that found them? It was you?”

  He reaches for my face with his free hand, running a knuckle along my jaw in the barest of caresses.

  I’m shocked to my core. All this time, I thought the other dragon was the one that had been meant for me. That he was
my mate and Sam had killed him. It turns out I’ve been horribly wrong. Sam’s the one that found my panties and came looking for me. The other one must have just happened to pick up my scent at the right time, and Sam killed him for trying to steal me.

  It wasn’t murder, not really. It was Sam defending his territory.

  And his territory is me.

  “This is the weirdest thing to get emotional about,” I tell him, even as my eyes well up with tears. “But you’ve always been looking for me, haven’t you?”

  “Aahm,” he murmurs, and I don’t even mind those enormous claws that skate over my skin. This is my dragon mate. This is the one I wanted to find me.

  He did, and I’ve been holding him at arm’s length the entire time, and all the while he’s been losing sanity with each and every moment that passed. I feel so guilty.

  “Oh, Sam,” I whisper, and put my arms around his waist, resting my cheek against his chest. He’s so warm and vibrant, and I can hear the rumble of pleasure low in his chest as I touch him. This doesn’t negate the fact that Sam’s a killer, of course. But I feel like I understand him better now. And it feels like we have a bond somewhere in there, beneath all the crazy.

  He puts his arms around me, his hands moving over my back, his rumble of pleasure fierce.

  I let out a blissful sigh. This isn’t quite how I dreamed things would turn out. My version was far more romantic—and childish—than this. I thought he’d be a prince come to rescue me, but instead he’s a wild-eyed berserker. Instead of making me afraid, though, the fear is turning into something else—a desire to help him. I’ve seen glimpses of the real Sam behind all of the fury and the frustration. He’s caring and devoted.

  It’s just that he’s being swallowed up by crazy Sam who breaks down doors and snaps necks.

  “What do we do to help you?” I ask, rubbing his back. “How do I find what Claudia did to break through?”

  Sam rumbles low in his throat and his arms tighten around me. Suddenly, I’m cuddled up against his massive erection, pushing against my stomach. Oh…the press of it against my body makes me feel a little shivery and aroused. I’m also acutely aware that I’m wearing nothing but a T-shirt, my panties and bra gone. It would take nothing for him to strip the shirt off of me and…

  I quiver at the thought, feeling vulnerable and anxious and excited all at once. I don’t know if it’s safe to do anything with Sam until I figure out how to settle his mind, though. Until I can forge that bond that Claudia did with Kael. I get a mental image of Sam wrapping his hands around my neck and snapping it like he did to the other dragon, and I shudder and pull away from him. “We’ll figure this out,” I promise him. “For now, I should probably shower.”

  I detangle myself from his grip, but he catches my hand, unwilling to let me go far. I chuckle at that, but I’m also flattered he wants me so much that he can’t stop touching me. “I can’t shower with you holding my hand,” I tell him, but I notice that his eyes are almost pure gold at this moment, and he looks relaxed. The crazy goes away when he focuses on me, I think. I consider the shower, and the dragon-man at my side. His hair looks like a disheveled mess, and mine probably doesn’t look much better. “Want to come and shower with me?”

  I figure it can’t hurt for both of us to soap up as long as I wear my T-shirt. It’ll do his mind good, I think, to clean up. Maybe it’ll make him remember his humanity.

  Don’t kid yourself, a little voice inside my head says. You want to see where this goes.

  Okay, so maybe I do. What virgin hasn’t dreamed of doing arousing things with the right guy? Of being caressed and petted and slowly made love to? I’m not sure I’m ready for all of that yet, but I’m attracted to him and we’re here alone and there’s a lovely shower running and…

  And I’m not going to deprive myself, I decide.

  So I move forward, toward the shower, and keep holding his hand. He follows me toward it, his brows furrowed as if he can’t quite figure out what we’re about to do. I push the glass shower door open all the way, then run my free hand under the water. I was hoping it’d be bitter cold to cool my flushed skin, but it’s lukewarm. That’s all right, then. It’s running clear and I can’t wait any longer.

  I step under the spray and can feel the grime of the last few days running off of me. I gasp with delight, freeing my hand from Sam’s to wipe water out of my eyes. It feels wonderful and I wave him in. “Come on. You’ll like it.”

  His eyes narrow at my playful tone and then a moment later, he’s in the shower with me. The spray isn’t big enough to hit both of us at the same time, so I move backward a little to share. My foot skids on the slippery tub and I nearly tumble down, but he grabs me just in time.

  And then I’m pressed up against his body, and we’re both wet.

  I suck in a breath, completely aware of how we’re plastered against each other, and the wet fabric of my T-shirt doesn’t feel like it’s any kind of barrier. I can feel the heat of him through the thin material, can feel the way his body moves when he slides a strong arm around my waist. I can practically feel the rumble start in his chest when he begins that strange dragon-ish purr.

  This is…far more intense than I imagined. I put a hand on his chest and push back, trying to get space between us. Sam isn’t allowing it, though. One big hand plants on my butt and cradles me against him, and there’s a look of fierce pleasure on his face, his eyes liquid gold.

  Our mouths are so close together I could swear he’s about to kiss me, and in that instant, I want it so badly I can taste it. I lift my chin, hoping he’ll close the distance between us, but he only rubs his nose against mine. Oh, right. Claudia mentioned that Kael didn’t know what kissing was when they met. How did she train him? How can I show Sam when I’ve never been kissed myself?

  But…surely it can’t be that hard, can it?

  I put a hand to his neck and pull him down, just a little, until he leans in. Then, I very gently brush my lips over his. It’s nothing more than a mere flutter of contact, but I can feel his body tense against mine in response. I move back, studying him, and his eyes are bright gold, his lids heavy. He presses his lips together, as if trying to taste me on his mouth, and then leans in, asking for more.

  My heart pounds, and I gaze up at him, fascinated by the expression on his face. He looks as turned on as I feel, and when I part my lips, he reaches for my face and caresses my mouth with his fingertips. One claw dances close to my nose and when he touches me, it scratches my face.

  “Ow!” I back away, pressing my fingertips to my nose. There’s a tiny bit of blood on my hands, but it doesn’t seem like a big scratch. It stings, but I suppose that’s one of the dangers of kissing a dragon.

  Sam stares down at his claws, his nostrils flaring. His eyes go black and a moment later, he bites one claw off, then another, spitting the broken tips aside as he watches me. I’m surprised he’d do such a thing, and the way he’s looking at me—so very intense—makes me shiver. It’s as if he’s getting rid of his claws to prove something to me.

  When the last one is bitten off, he flexes his hand, eyeing his shorn nails. The look he gives me next is downright determined, and he moves forward and pulls me against him once more, grinning. He sweeps his fingers along my jaw, apparently pleased at how he can touch me without his claws in the way.

  And oh, I’m really liking that smile on his face. It’s making me weak in the knees.

  He pulls me in closer, one hand at the small of my back, and then brushes his lips over mine. A tingle of response moves through me like lightning, making me squirm. It’s shocking how such a small act can make completely different parts of my body light up in response. It’s like I feel his kiss deep between my thighs, in a place only I’ve touched.

  I whimper and press my lips to his, parting mine so we can make the kiss deeper. I timidly stroke my tongue into his mouth and I can feel his jolt of response. He growls again and then his hand digs into my scalp, pinning me against him as he sl
ides his tongue against mine with enthusiasm. I've never felt anything like this. It's slick and hot and intimate, and every time his tongue brushes mine, my entire body prickles with awareness. It's both too much and not enough all at once. I try to break the kiss in case he doesn't like it, but he slants his mouth over mine, his tongue tangling anew. With each touch, it's different. I want to never stop. My arms twine around his neck and I don't care that I'm pressing my wet, nearly naked body against his. I don't care that he's totally naked and a dragon-man. I don't care about anything other than the feel of his mouth on mine. Over and over, our tongues lock and mate, and I realize in the dim fog at the back of my mind that I'm making soft little noises of pleasure with each stroke of his tongue. This makes me think of…other things. Deeper things.

  The enormous “thing” that's pressing up against my belly.

  Sam growls low in his throat even as we keep kissing, and one hand slides along my wet thigh, then moves under my shirt. He groans when he cups my bare butt, as if just now realizing that I've stripped off almost everything. I'm incredibly aroused and wet, too. Kissing him has made heat pool between my thighs, and I feel like squirming against his hard body just to try and squeeze out a bit more pleasure from our touches.

  “Aahm,” he murmurs, and licks my mouth with that incredible tongue of his. Oh. Oh. It's like he licked me…lower. And suddenly I want that. My cheeks flush bright red at the thought, because I'd never be bold enough to ask for such a thing, but I'm going to think about it forever now.

  “Sam,” I whisper. I slide a little closer to him—and get a faceful of his wet hair when he dips his head to kiss my neck.

  That startles me, and I half-giggle, half-sputter.

  He lifts his head and the moment is broken. I smile at him as he gazes at me, and brush the long strands of hair back from his face. With his crazy lion's mane of hair wet, his horns are that much more prominent, frilling his brow kind of like how they frill his brow when he's in dragon form. It's fascinating to see. “Maybe we should wash up before we waste more water.” When he doesn't respond, I pantomime washing and pick up a bottle of shampoo, then demonstrate. “See? You put this in your hair and it cleans it.” I add a dollop to my own hair and then begin to scrub, and I can't help the sigh that escapes me. This is definitely good shampoo, and my hair's filthy.