Fire in His Fury

by Ruby Dixon

  “Of course.” She reaches up and caresses my jaw. “I just miss my sister and want her to know I’m happy and safe.” Memories flash through her mind, and as they do, I see other golden-skinned drakoni males there. I growl low. It does not matter that she is mine and the others are mated. I know her request is a simple, logical one. She wishes to see family, that is all. But this is all too new and I am too territorial. Just the thought of bringing her in range of those males so they can breathe in her scent is enough to make my mind blister.

  My arms tighten around her protectively and I hold her tight against me. I am not a good male, my Amy.

  “What are you talking about, Rast? You’re wonderful.” Her voice has a hint of shyness as she says my name, but I can feel the pleasure she does when she says it, and it makes my cock ache. Was ever a male so lucky?

  I am possessive. The thought of taking you near other males—even mated ones—makes me want to attack them. I clutch her tightly to me. Perhaps that will go away in time, but for now, I…cannot take you home. You are mine and mine alone.

  I feel her sadness ripple through her and it just frustrates me even more. I hold her to my chest as close as I can, sliding a hand between her thighs to cup her cunt, my possessive nature taking over. I cannot be the male she wants me to be and it makes my emotions even higher, my irrational jealousy greater.

  But Amy is the greatest treasure I have ever had. And I have spent a lifetime having the things I value taken away from me. My family—by choice—when I entered into the hated Salorian army and sought ranking. My brother Hitaar, when he was conscripted. My world, when I was thrust here through the Rift mid-battle.

  I cannot lose my Amy. Not to anything or anyone.

  I hold her close, burrowing my face into her wet hair. I will take you anywhere in the world you wish to go, my mate, my fires. Anywhere at all. Just…not there. Not yet. Perhaps someday I will be ready, but…not yet.

  “It’s all right,” she says softly, reaching up and caressing my cheek. There is a hint of sadness in her thoughts, but understanding, too. “We’ll go someplace else for a while, then. Maybe we can find someplace with better supplies. A nicer view. Maybe the ocean. Sasha always talks about going there and I admit I’d like to see what it looks like in a post-Rift world. If it’s wild and beautiful and empty.”

  Then we shall go if it makes you smile, I tell her.

  She turns in my arms, facing me, and her hands go to the back of my neck. She looks up at me with her soft, beautiful eyes. “You’re what I wanted, Rast. Never doubt that. As long as you want me, we’ll be together.”

  The oceans would dry before I would cease wanting her. The winds would die away and the stars would fall from the sky, and still I would crave my Amy.

  15

  AMY

  As if he’s taking pity on my bruised, tired, feverish body, Rast doesn’t initiate sex again for the next two days. In a way, I’m a little glad because I do feel awful. I’m exhausted and too hot and achy to get up from bed, and my neck throbs. My head does, too, as I try to get used to the mental connection. I don’t recall Claudia telling me how incredibly overwhelming it is to have a dragon in your head, but Rast has a lot of his memories from his homeworld, so maybe he’s got a stronger mental connection to me than hers is to Kael. It feels a little mean-spirited to think of it that way, but I can’t help it.

  Rast is amazing. He’s everything I dreamed of, wrapped up in an unexpected package. Did I want a man that’s as attentive to me as Kael is to Claudia? Yes. But I never dreamed that Rast would want to spend hours on the roof with me draped over his chest, naked atop him, as he cradled me out in the rain so I could enjoy the cool weather instead of sweltering in my breezeless room. I never dreamed he’d hold me against his chest and just stroke my skin for hours on end, feeding me bits of chocolate when I felt too sick. It’s beyond words how cherished I feel, and to someone like me, who has always felt lacking because of my leg, I gobble up his attention like it’s candy, and I always want more.

  It’s not perfect, of course. Rast is struggling to understand our world and his emotions. He mentioned that he was a general in his homeworld, and I think that accounts for some of his…arrogance. It’s clear that he’s used to being obeyed, because any time I contradict him, he looks utterly incredulous. He also struggles with jealousy and flares of temper. He’s even jealous of the crows and pigeons that wander in the open hole in our room, because if I smile at them, I’m not smiling at him. Some of it is the residue from his wildness, I think, because I immediately feel the shame that rolls through his thoughts when his temper flares.

  It’s just adjusting to each other and him adjusting to this world, I think. In the past, he didn’t have to worry about adjusting to my world because he was beyond crazed. Now that he’s sane, it’s like he has to learn everything anew, and I can tell he gets frustrated—most of all with himself and his mind that won’t behave like he wants it to.

  He’s endlessly patient and loving with me, though.

  Except…other than those first two matings, he hasn’t touched me again. I wonder if there’s a problem with me that he’s taking care to hide in his thoughts. Or does he think that after two matings, no more are necessary? I have no idea. All I know is that he’s woken up a craving in my mind, and now all I think about is sex. I think about it when he caresses my back or strokes my hair. I dream about it when I sleep. I think about it every time he smiles at me, or I catch a whiff of his scent, or his skin strokes over mine.

  Basically I’m turning into a nympho and he won’t touch me, and I don’t know what to do.

  I tell myself it’s another one of those adjustment things. That just because he isn’t having sex with me now—after the first few mindblowing rounds—it doesn’t mean there’s a problem. But my self-esteem is pathetic and of course I worry. I worry because I’m not as pretty as Claudia, or as fit, or as strong-willed. I’m not bringing much to the mate table.

  And when he wakes up, his cock is hard and erect. It’s hard not to notice, because he’s naked and there’s nowhere else to look but at his staggering male beauty. In that aspect, he’s definitely like the prince of my dreams. When he looks at me? His eyes are filled with such hunger and need that it takes my breath away.

  So I do feel as if there’s something I’m missing. But how does a recently de-virginized girl tell a guy she wants to have sex again? I haven’t figured that part out yet. I’m still horribly awkward around him. If he picks it up from my thoughts, he hasn’t indicated it yet.

  Which then makes me worry the sex wasn’t very good, or my weak body repulsed him.

  God, I am such a mess. I thought getting my Prince Charming would solve all my problems. I have him, but he’s more like Prince Fury, and he’s brought a whole new kit of issues along with him.

  At least my fever distracts me, for the most part.

  But on day three, I feel much better. I’m not sweating constantly, and the breeze this day actually feels cool and refreshing on my skin instead of painful. I wake up hungry and pick through the remnants of my junk food in frustration. I’m craving something filling and although a chocolate bar is amazing, it does not make a meal. I haven’t minded too much in the last few days since my appetite has been nonexistent, but it’s ravenous today.

  Wait here, Rast says, intruding into my thoughts with that mental blast of his. I will take care of you. He moves to my side, caresses my cheek, and then heads for the open, gaping hole in the window. As I watch, he shifts to dragon form like he’s exploding into the skies, and then he takes off with a mighty flap of his wings.

  Come back soon, I can’t help but call after him. This is the first time he’s left me in days and it feels…strange.

  I would not leave your side for long, my mate. Be patient. He sends something that feels like a mental caress and I start to think all my worries are silly. It’s just more of us getting used to each other, I reason. Maybe when he gets back, he’ll want to have sex.

>   Of course, the thought makes me blush and I limp over to the shower to clean all my sweat off my skin so I smell as fresh as possible…just in case.

  By the time I hop out of the shower, I can hear the distant beat of wings overhead.

  I return, Rast tells me.

  I barely have time to pull the spare robe over my body before the dragon alights, wings gently fluttering, and lands on the floor a few feet away via the gaping hole in the side of the building. He carries a dead cow in his mouth and drops it on the floor in front of me.

  These are tasty, he tells me. Eat your fill.

  I stare blankly at the big, dead animal. Its neck is snapped and it's not covered in blood, which is nice, I suppose. But it's so huge and…dead. I've dressed squirrels and seen Claudia help Kael with his kills, but I've never had to do any cooking myself. I'm at a loss, and I clutch the neck of my robe shut, worried. “I'll…uh, get a knife.”

  Why? I can cut it for you. Just show me where to bite open the skin and I will make a wound for you to eat from. He nudges it toward me with his nose. When I don't step forward, a hint of impatience flares in his thoughts. The blood will clot if you do not make haste.

  I swallow hard. “Right.” He's trying to feed me. I can do this. It's not like I'm a vegetarian. I'll eat whatever I can find, just like everyone else. But right now I'm longing for just one more can of those stupid yams, because I feel wholly unprepared to dress an entire cow on my own, in the middle of my hotel suite living area. I head for my bag and pull out a knife, then move to the cow's side. I need to figure out the best place to cut. Do I slit the throat so the blood can pour out? I've seen Claudia and Sasha do that before back when we were in Fort Dallas, but there's no place for the blood to go at the moment except in the carpet. I hesitate, then kneel next to it. “You can cook this thing for me, right?” My voice sounds braver than I feel.

  If you like. Step back.

  I give him a horrified look. “No, wait. I need to get the skin off. I can't eat it like this.”

  I will wait.

  There is patience in his tone, but I feel like I'm being rushed. No, I feel like I'm being judged. I don't like it. I move to the cow's side and try to figure out which part a steak would be cut from. You would think I'd know something like this, but I've never had so much meat flung my way before. Never in Fort Dallas, and after I moved in with Claudia in her tower, I had to keep to my room. I swallow hard and decide on a hip. A hip seems nice and benign. I move toward it and lay the sharp part of the blade against the hide, then gently try to dig it in.

  It doesn't go very far. I have to hack at it to get the knife to penetrate the hide, and by the time I do, black blood starts to gush everywhere, and I swallow hard, my stomach turning.

  You wish a flank? Here, move. Let me gnaw you a piece. The dragon's head gently nudges me aside and as I watch, he clamps his sharp teeth against the thing's thigh and bites down. There's a crunch of bone and then he drops it onto the ground, a big hunk of bloody meat. Finish skinning it and then I will cook for you.

  I nod, swallowing hard. I hike up the sleeves of my fluffy white bathrobe and put one hand on the meat while I saw at the hide on the side. “You can eat the rest,” I tell him. “This is more than enough for me, and you must be hungry.”

  There's a flare of pleasure in his thoughts and then he leans in and snags the rest of the cow, downing it in a snap of bones and a big swallow.

  Wish it were that easy for me to take care of my food, I muse grudgingly as I saw at the bit of hide left on my portion. The meat's tough and slippery, and I swear, by the time I'm done, I'm not even going to be hungry. I'll need a shower again, too, I think sourly.

  You are not very good at taking care of yourself, Rast observes, his tone curious.

  I look up at him, hurt. “I'm so sorry if my performance disappoints you.”

  It is most odd.

  “You're right,” I say sarcastically. “Here, let me hike myself out of the building and I'll go run down a nice fat deer or two for dinner.” I slap my bad leg and then glare at him. “Right after that, I'll go and toast myself up a couple of birds for dessert. Sounds great, doesn't it? Maybe after I'm done with that I'll go and run a fucking marathon.”

  He is quiet, even in my head. For a long moment, it's utterly silent between us. I hate that I lost my temper and cussed at him. It's just…I'm really sensitive about my leg. I know it's ugly and it makes me slow and useless. I wish I could change that, but I can't.

  I swat at the meat with the knife one last time and then drop my knife, glaring at him. “Done.”

  He grabs the meat between two broken claws, breathes a gentle flame on it until the outside is crisp and my mouth is watering at the scent. He cooks it for a bit longer, and then offers it to me, like a giant pot roast, dragon-style.

  “Thank you,” I say politely, but I'm still brimming with hurt. This is the first time he's made me feel like “less” and I don't like it. I grab at the roast, but it's searing hot and I drop it to the floor, making an angry exclamation.

  Immediately, Rast switches to human form and approaches me. He scoops up my roast and dusts it off with his fingers, then sets it on the nearest flat surface and approaches me. You are upset.

  Duh, is the thought that immediately comes to mind, but I squelch it. “It's nothing.”

  It is not nothing, he insists, and then adds, duh.

  I can't help the smile that curves my mouth at hearing that. “It's fine—”

  It is not. His thoughts blast through my head and I wince. He reduces his mental tone and moves to my side, caressing my cheek. I did not mean to hurt your feelings. It is something I realized as I watched you. I should not have asked.

  I sigh, because now I feel like a jerk. “No, you pointed out something I'm struggling with myself. Even though I can't run, I should be able to dress a kill. The fact that I don't is rather embarrassing. My sister's just always taken care of so many things for me that I've never really had to push myself.” It's startling to realize how passive I've been. How much has Claudia simply “handled” and I let her? I never did half as much as she did, work-wise, back when we were in Fort Dallas. She would insist that she could take care of it all, but I could have done more. After all, skinning a hunk of meat can be done sitting down as well as standing up. Maybe it's a good thing we've been separated, even if I miss her.

  “You're right,” I tell him. “I've never been good at doing a lot of things. I've never had to. I guess I didn't like it being thrown in my face, but it's a good eye-opener. It makes me realize how sheltered I've been despite all these things. If I didn't have you to look after me and I was out here alone? I'd be dead. Not just because of my leg, but because I don't know how to take care of myself. I've never had to. Someone else has always been there to handle whatever needed to be done and I've let them.” It's a rather humbling thing to realize. I look up at him. “But I'm going to learn,” I tell him firmly.

  He caresses my cheek and presses a kiss to my mouth. Learn after you eat. You need your strength.

  I move to the small kitchenette and pull out a plate and utensils, and carve my meat into bite-sized pieces and chew methodically. It's a little raw on the inside, but it's so good I can't help but devour as much of it as I possibly can.

  Rast watches me eat, his expression focused and intent.

  “There are a lot of things I've never really tried to do on my own that I'd like to give a shot,” I tell him between bites. Now that I'm warming up to the concept, it feels a bit like an adventure, and I've had painfully few of those in my life. “I can learn to fish. Maybe set traps. Ride a bicycle. Shoot a gun.” I think for a moment, then add, “I don't want you to think I'm completely inept. I can light a fire, but I need a lighter or matches. I can sew clothes, and I can grow vegetables in old coffee cans. I used to do that back when we lived on the bus in Fort Dallas. I'd grow a seedling and then sell it to someone in exchange for food.” I give him a faint smile. “A lot of that isn't all th
at useful out here, though. Oh, swimming. I'd love to learn how to swim.”

  We can do all those things, he tells me, leaning in and brushing his fingers over the corner of my mouth. Whatever you want, we shall do. He rubs his thumb against my lip. You have blood on your mouth.

  I give him a sheepish look and swipe my hand over it before he can lean in and do something naughty, like lick me. Then I kind of regret that, because I like his licking. Of course, then I think about him licking and I can feel my face getting red all the way to my roots. “You'll have to be patient with me,” I tell him. “I was very young when the Rift happened and that's how my leg broke. We lived in Fort Dallas until a few months ago. I know how to deal with the militia, but not with a full-blown cow corpse. It's going to be a lot for me to learn, but I'm willing.”

  You are not the only one who has much to learn about survival in this world. A rueful smile curves his hard mouth. I feel as if I have just returned to my mind after so long. It will be a challenge to look at this place as a home instead of where I am simply trapped, but at least I have my mind back.

  I nod. “It wasn't always like this. Once upon a time it was…busy. Peaceful. There were so many people. Billions.” I glance out at the gaping hole, to the distant ruins of Fort Dallas, just barely visible against the skyline. “It was so very different. You can't imagine how.” I feel a hint of sadness, thinking of my parents and the life I had before. Of going to school and a full belly and new clothes and never having to worry about dragonfire.

  Before your world was destroyed in the Rift.

  I bite my lip. “It wasn't the Rift that destroyed our world. It was what came through.”

  He grunts at my subtle correction.

  As I eat, he moves to my side and pulls me out of my chair. Startled, I get up—only to be dragged back down into his lap. His arms immediately go around me and he rubs his face in my hair. “Is everything okay?” I ask timidly.

  I wish to hold you. Nothing more. It has been too long since I felt your form against mine.