Celtic Dragons

by Dee Bridgnorth

  And in exchange for all of Liam’s information, loyalty, and help, she would make sure that he had a prestigious place as an advisor to her, once she was in her new leadership position.

  She mocked Josiah, and repeatedly referred to how she’d had him twisted around her little finger before he’d been stupid enough to die in trying to carry out her initial plan, which had revolved around taking the money for herself. After all, she had reasoned, as Ronan’s rightful wife, she deserved the money anyway. But since Josiah had been so incompetent, she’d had to step up her game.

  Ronan could hardly read through the conversation without shaking with anger, and he finally set the phone aside, his hands clenching into fists as he bored a hole in the office wall opposite him with just his gaze. He was done playing nice. Done with the LA clan, done with Liam, done with Josiah—done with it all. His office building had been on fire, a curse had eaten its way through his body, and both he and Natasha had almost died not just once, but several times.

  This was war, and he was ready for it.

  He just needed to figure out what his next step was. From the texts, it was clear that Abigail had notified Liam that they were in town and that they had sent their first message by flying over the city so low that they were spotted. Now she was waiting to hear back from Liam, and she clearly didn’t know that he had been compromised.

  Ronan got up and paced his office, trying to decide whether to text her back as Liam or whether he should just show up at the hotel that she had clearly indicated she would be at in her messages.

  He wanted to put his hands around her throat and strangle her for all the trouble she’d caused, but he had to be smart. He had to remember that a confrontation in a private place was a bad, bad idea. He had to remember that she was every bit as powerful as he was. He had to remember that she had people on her side, just like he had people on his. Her clan members were with her too, and there was always Josiah—the wild card. How much damage could the man do from the other side? It was clear that he could communicate and that he had power of some sort. He was an unknown that Ronan wasn’t sure how to account for yet.

  His door squeaked open, and Ronan looked over to see Natasha standing there. Just the sight of her was a breath of fresh air, and he immediately walked over, reaching out to draw her in for a kiss. She moved into his arms, but there was something hesitant in the way her lips pressed to his.

  Frowning, he looked down into her eyes, trying to read them. “What’s wrong?”

  “I have to tell you something.”

  “Okay.” He took her hand and led her over to his desk, sitting her down in the chair across from it, then perching himself on the edge of the cherry-finished wood. “I’m listening.”

  “I doubted you,” she said quietly, as though confessing a deep, dark crime. “I’m so sorry, Ronan. Josiah came to me. He was talking—he was saying all these things about you. About your character. How you were with all of these women. How I shouldn’t trust that you were telling the truth. How I didn’t really know you at all, and that you’d killed him and abandoned Abigail and that you weren’t a good man.” Tears filled her eyes and she stared down at her lap. “I’m so sorry. I had this terrible moment of doubt, because I misjudged Matthew so completely, and I feel like a horrible person, because I told you that I love you and I do, but I still had these feelings.”

  Her ache was so sincere, and Ronan’s heart hurt for the woman he’d come to love so deeply in such a short amount of time. Her heart was pure and her soul was good and he would never, ever want to do anything that could take away from that. She was perfect, and she should never be made to feel badly, especially about something like what she was now confessing.

  “Natasha,” Ronan said gently, reaching out and taking her hand in his. He turned her palm upward, pressing a soft kiss to the center. “I’m not upset. You’re human. You have doubts. We haven’t known each other that long, and you’ve had a difficult past. There’s no reason for you to feel badly. I’m just glad that …you seem to have decided to trust me?”

  She nodded, her fingers curled around his. “Of course. You’re really not angry?”

  “What did I tell you about that?”

  “You’ll always be upfront with me if you’re angry.”

  He drew her to her feet, wrapping his arms around her. “Always. I’m just sorry that you had to go through that. I hate that Josiah is targeting you. That—that is what makes me angry. What he’s doing. Not what you’re doing.”

  “I’m still sorry that I had any bad thought about you,” Natasha murmured, looking up into his face, her eyes red with emotion. “You’re so good.”

  Ronan gave a slight laugh. “I don’t know about that, sweetheart. Before you walked in here, I was pacing back and forth thinking about how I was going to take out a group of people who are my kin. Are you sure I’m good?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m glad you are,” he said, kissing her, then turning away from her to try and get some sort of perspective. “I’m about to lie to Abigail. I’m going to text her from Liam’s phone, which she doesn’t know that I have, and tell her to meet me. It’s a risk, because I don’t know what sort of arrangement they have. I don’t know what information she’s waiting on from him. So I don’t know if I’ll be able to fool her into thinking that my texts are from him. But it’s the best option. It’s much better than showing up at her hotel.”

  “Liam still isn’t cooperating?” Natasha asked, standing back to give him space. Somehow she just knew that was what he needed right now.

  Ronan shook his head. “He won’t say a thing. I don’t blame him, actually. We clipped his wings. He’s never going to be the same again, and he won’t ever forgive us. But we had to—we couldn’t have him fighting back against us and going to them.”

  Natasha cleared her throat, and Ronan could just tell that she had something she wanted to say but wasn’t sure about.

  He turned to her, tilting his head. “Tell me.”

  “Tell you what?”

  “Tell me what you’re thinking. I know you have an opinion. Or an idea.”

  She bit her lip for a moment, then slid her palms down her thighs, her skin dragging against the denim. “Well, have you thought about whether Michael, the leader of the LA group, is really as committed to this as Abigail seems to be?”

  Ronan nodded. “I have. And I agree—I think she’s driving it. I need to feel him out, and if he’s willing to give her up, then I’ll negotiate with him. But Abigail has to be stopped, Natasha. She’s dangerous. I’ve read her texts, and she’s downright evil. Power hungry. Unwilling to conform to the most basic of rules the clan has. She actually thought that she would marry me here and basically take over this branch.” The anger got him every time, his fists balling into fists again. “I’m clipping her.”

  “Not killing her?”

  “If I have to,” Ronan said seriously, looking into Natasha’s eyes. “I will kill her if I have to. Absolutely. Does that change things between us?”

  Natasha shook her head. “Not at all.”

  He could tell by the speed of her response and her tone that she meant it, and it gave him something to hold on to. Striding over to Liam’s phone, he picked it up and opened the text conversation between Liam and Abigail, staring at the screen for a long moment before typing out his message.

  Are you ready?

  There was almost no time that passed between the ding of his sent text and the return ding of her incoming text.

  More than. It’s about time.

  Ronan bit down on his lip hard enough to draw blood, but he barely noticed the pain.

  Where are you? he asked Abigail, wanting to verify that he had her hotel pegged right.

  I’m at the hotel. What difference does it make? I want to take the little impostor out first. That’s personal, just for me. Tell me where to find her. Michael is stirring up the others right now. Based on what we’ve told them about Ronan, they’re going to be rea
dy to destroy him and everything he loves.

  Ronan read the text, swallowing hard to control his emotion. He held out the phone to Natasha, who read the screen with wide eyes, her hand creeping up to her throat. “I’m the impostor.”

  “Yeah,” Ronan said grimly. “You are. I’m getting you a protective detail, and you’re not to be out of my sight—not for a minute. I will walk you to the bathroom and stand there at the door to wait for you every single time you have to go.

  “Ronan …”

  “No,” he said, cutting her off. “I’m not losing you, Natasha. I need you. You have no idea how much I need you.”

  She reached out, touching his arm. “Yes, I do.”

  Liam!

  What the hell?

  Text me back.

  Do you think I’m just sitting here in this room for my own health?

  The phone dinged repeatedly as text after text came in from Abigail, her tone angrier in each one. Ronan had to come up with a response for her, and he made the decision quickly, tapping out his response before he could second guess it.

  Small hiccup. We need to meet.

  There was a long pause, then another ding.

  What hiccup? I don’t like hiccups, Liam. Tell me what happened.

  Ronan blew out a breath, briefly making eye contact with Natasha before responding.

  It’s about the girl. She’s gone away.

  Natasha’s eyes went wide. “Ronan, that’s too risky. If she checks up on that and finds out it’s not true, she’s going to know there’s something wrong.”

  “I can always tell her that I, as Liam, didn’t know. That I’m mistaken,” Ronan insisted. “But I’m more comfortable if she thinks you’re not around.

  What the hell? Why is she gone? I thought they were so in love that they couldn’t bear to be breathing their own air. They have to share oxygen. Where would she go?

  Ronan winced, but typed back.

  Don’t know. Don’t want to keep talking over text. Let’s meet.

  The moments between his response an hers were so long and drawn out that he thought he might die from impatience. He worried that he had scared her off or that she was checking up on his story, both of which would be fatal for his plan. But then the phone dinged.

  Fine. The place we talked about?

  Ronan lifted his eyebrows, not knowing what she was talking about. He glanced up at Natasha, who read over his shoulder. “Tell her no. Tell her you want to change because it could be compromised,” she suggested. “Give her a place that you’re going to have the advantage in.”

  “My only advantage is knowing the area,” Ronan told her, as he typed out the message and gave her the location he wanted to confront her in. “She’s a dragon, the same as me. She’ll be every bit as powerful. I’ve never fought a dragon before, so I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ll figure it out, and I’ll figure it out first, but it’ll be new for me. Fighting against my own.”

  “I have no doubt that you can do it,” Natasha told him quietly but firmly. “You’re amazing, Ronan. And I’m going to be right there with you the whole time.”

  He didn’t know what to do. If he kept her with him so that he knew that she was safe, he exposed her to Abigail. If he kept her away while he went to meet Abigail, then he exposed her to Josiah or Michael or some other force that wanted to do her harm. There seemed to be an infinite number of them, and any way he cut it, there was a risk.

  “No,” she said quietly, touching his arm. “I wasn’t asking to go with you. I was telling you. If you’re going to meet her and there’s a clash, then you’re at a disadvantage, Ronan. You’re coping with the curse Josiah put on you. It’s weakened you. You’re going to need someone who can help you manage your pain and your strength. I’m going with you, and there’s nothing that you can say to change my mind.”

  “Natasha,” he began, before she cut him off by holding up her hand.

  “I came here to tell you two things. The first was that my guilt because I doubted you and let Josiah get in my head. The second …well, the second is that this is my fight too, now. Partially because I’ve been targeted, but mostly because it’s your fight. Your fight is my fight, and if we’re really committed to being partners—and God I hope that you think we are, too, and I’m not going to look like a fool. If we are, then this is our fight, and you won’t try to keep me away any more than I would try to prevent you from going yourself.”

  He hadn’t intended to tell her no even before her speech, but he was even less inclined to do so now. Reaching out, he cupped the back of her head and pulled her in for a hard, passionate kiss that anchored her to him in every way. “You are soft and supple,” he whispered. “But underneath is pure steel. We’re partners, Natasha. And I wouldn’t want it any other way. Just please—promise me that you’ll be smart. If she goes after you, listen to me. I can’t lose you.”

  Natasha looked into his eyes, and he saw the depth of emotion that was within her. “You never will.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Natasha

  Dark, lush trees surrounded Natasha and Ronan as they hunkered down together, hidden by the foliage in the Boston forest. The blue sky above them was perfect for a picnic or a long walk or making love in the green, dewy grass, but they were waiting for the woman who wanted to kill them both, and destroy what they loved, to walk up and realize that she had been duped. It added an ominous note to the chirping of the birds and the scurrying sounds of animals as they moved from bush to bush.

  Natasha had a firm grip on Ronan, her healing power flowing into him and back out into her, flushing his system of the toxins created by the curse and keeping him as strong as possible for whatever they might be about to face. She had never been involved in a battle before, except for the ones that Matthew had waged on her while she tried to shield herself, and she didn’t know what to expect when Abigail realized what had happened to her grand plan.

  But she was prepared for anything, and with Ronan beside her, she had no doubts that they would be successful. They made the perfect team.

  “There she is,” Ronan murmured, but Natasha had already seen her.

  Coming through the trees was the most beautiful woman Natasha had ever seen. Long waves of strawberry-blonde hair fell down her back and golden skin gleamed in the late-afternoon light. Wide eyes, full lips, and a nose with just hint of an upward tip gave her the look of a beautiful, sensual pixie. Her body was lush and her movements graceful, and in all things, Natasha suddenly felt inferior.

  This was the woman who the man she loved was supposed to have married. This goddess who could shift at will into a creature even more powerful and majestic. It made her chest feel tight, and Ronan must have felt the blip in the healing she was providing for him, because he looked over at her.

  “Are you all right?”

  Natasha nodded, biting her tongue. This wasn’t the time to let her insecurities get the best of her. After all, she was a formidable woman in her own right. She wasn’t the lush, gorgeous pixie, but she was tall and strong and, more importantly, she was kind and tried to help and love others. Abigail had a beautiful face and a perfect body but a soul that was blackened by hunger for power. If only her outside could reflect who she was inside.

  “You sure?” Ronan pressed. “Did something happen?”

  “No,” Natasha promised him, watching Abigail again as the woman stopped at the edge of the clearing in the woods and began to look around, checking her phone impatiently. “Let’s go.”

  Ronan left their discreet hiding spot first, holding Natasha’s hand to bring her close behind him. They walked into the clearing, and the moment that Abigail looked up from her phone and saw them instead of Liam, her beautiful face darkened with rage.

  “You’re found out,” Ronan told her, striding ahead, his broad shoulders, long, thick dark hair, and broad jaw all representing his vitality and strength. He was an intimidating force to reckon with, cursed or not, and Natasha could see the doubt in Ab
igail’s face.

  Then Abigail’s eyes met hers and that doubt was replaced by unadulterated rage. “Bitch,” Abigail said to her. “You know he’s a promised man. He belonged to me.”

  “Your problem is that you have to own everything,” Natasha told her, not flinching even under the power of Abigail’s ire. “It’s sad, actually, how needy you are.”

  Abigail’s eyes narrowed. “You’re going to regret saying that.” But then she turned back to Ronan. “Where is Liam?”

  “Compromised,” he told her. “He told us everything. I have his phone. I know what you two have been plotting. And I’m here to tell you that it’s not going to happen. Whatever stunt you were trying to pull by getting picked up in the paper, by showing up here unannounced, by plotting to set one branch of the clan against another—it’s not going to work. Not on my watch, Abigail. I’ll take you down if I have to, and I’ll win.”

  Abigail chuckled, tilting her head with an amused, condescending air. “Oh, you will? Why is that, Ronan? Don’t think much of my fighting skills?”

  “I’m sure you’re very strong,” Ronan told her, lifting a shoulder. “So am I. If it comes down to determination and being on the right side—I have you beat.”

  “You should have just married me, you know,” Abigail said, moving toward him with a sultry walk. “I would have made a great partner. A perfect queen. We would have been unstoppable.”

  Natasha’s stomach churned at even the idea of that, but Ronan quickly set her mind at ease with his dismissive grunt.

  “Marrying you would have been the worst decision of my life,” he told Abigail. “In all my interaction with Dragon Clan members, I have never met anyone like you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “It wasn’t a compliment,” Ronan said sharply. “You’re egotistical, manipulative, power hungry, and worse than all of that—you have no respect for what our ancestors tried to shape us into. We were cursed, but we turned the curse into something good. We chose to be defenders of people. All you want to do is reign, and I have never met anyone so shallow and empty.”