by Amelia Jade
“You do not see them much of anywhere, really. Shows you just how backward this town really is.” There was a tinge of anger in his voice as he spoke. Ferro was obviously still upset at the way the villagers had treated her. Part of her warmed to his protectiveness. She knew there were few cases where he would ever truly have to help her out. Even the night before, she could likely have escaped without his help.
Perhaps you could have gotten away, but that infection would have done you in, because you were too stubborn to acknowledge such a thing was possible.
She shrugged mentally, knowing that was the truth. Okay, so having Ferro around is good for more than just something to look at. That was selling him far short, but she had to admit he was rather easy on the eyes. Without thinking, she slipped her arm through his again, leaning into him as they approached the building.
“Someone’s awake,” she said suddenly, jerking upright.
The sky was still an hour or so away from beginning to brighten with the sun’s rays, which made it unusual for someone to still be up.
“Perhaps they have an overnight innkeeper?” Ferro suggested as they climbed the two wooden steps to the door.
“Maybe,” she said, though they both knew she didn’t believe that.
The door was unlocked, and she followed him inside with only the slightest hesitation. A lamp hanging from the ceiling lit the interior. It had been that light which had told them someone was awake.
As it turned out, that wasn’t entirely accurate. The innkeeper, she assumed, was stretched out in a hammock behind a desk. The sound of the door stirred him to life, and he exited the slowly swinging netting with practiced ease and came to stand at the counter. He was short, with finger-length black hair pulled into a terrible comb-over. Small beady black eyes blinked rapidly as he woke himself up. He eyed Ferro up and down for a second before his attention swung to her.
“No,” he said quickly in heavily accented English. “No her.” He pointed at Ferro. “You okay. No her.”
Ferro bristled and she tried to hold him back, but he slipped from her grasp and approached the counter. The size difference between the two became more apparent as Ferro towered over the man even as he leaned across the counter.
She didn’t want anymore violence. There had been enough for that night. All she wanted to do was sleep.
But Ferro didn’t do anything more than physically intimidate the man. He shoved his hand into a pocket, removing a wallet stuffed with bills. The innkeeper’s eyes bulged at the sight of so many green and white bills. Ferro removed several marked $100 and laid them out in a row in front of the man.
“She okay.” Ferro didn’t ask a question, but instead stated the obvious. If the man wanted the money, he had to let Ana stay.
The man nodded and went for the money. Ferro’s hand slapped down on the counter faster than she could blink.
“She. Okay,” he repeated again, his voice pure unyielding steel.
“She okay,” the innkeeper said jerkily in his broken English.
Ferro removed his hand and the money disappeared even faster than Ferro had moved. She blinked at the greediness, trying to stifle a smile. Ferro had likely given him several years’ worth of income in the local currency for one night.
He looks angry, but really he’s a big softy at heart. She smiled, moving next to him as they followed the man upstairs. Ferro hadn’t needed to give the man nearly as much money as he had to secure themselves a room for the evening. But he had.
There were two doors per side. He led them to the first door on the right. Ferro stopped him as he pulled out a key-ring.
“No. This one,” he said, pointing to the next door.
The innkeeper started to protest, but Ferro simply held out another crisp bill. The small man hesitated for a second, then nodded and snatched the currency, moving to the door Ferro had pointed at.
“Why did you do that?” she murmured, her voice pitched so low that only Ferro with his excellent shifter hearing would pick it up.
“I have seen more violence than I care to,” he said heavily. “I would rather make someone happy to get my way, if possible.”
She sensed that he wasn’t just talking about the events of the past little while. There was more to it than that. She knew he’d had some troubles with his son Luthor before even showing up that night. Yet that didn’t account for everything she was picking up.
The innkeeper pushed the door open and ushered them in. He said something fast in the local language, bowed his head, and backed out into the hallway beyond, closing the door as he went.
“Why do I get the feeling you’re talking about more than just tonight when you say that?” she asked, resuming their line of conversation.
“Did I sound that bad?” he asked, exploring their little room.
“Mm-hmm,” she said, glancing around their accommodations for the night.
The room was small. The roof slanted downward away from the door, ending only four or so feet from the floor. The bed was on that side, a small affair that would be very cozy for whichever one of them ended up on it. She had a feeling Ferro would try to sleep on the floor, but she had every intent of fighting him on that.
To the left of the door was the adjoining wall, though she could hear no sounds of anyone occupying it. There was a table up against the wall to on her right, and an open closet with drawers occupied the end wall past the bed. Overall, it wasn’t worth a fraction of what they had paid, but it would do.
“I have…seen things,” Ferro said after a moment of pause. He settled into the chair in front of the table and gestured her toward the bed.
Ana wanted to fight, but she wanted to hear what he had to say more, so she accepted his offer and went to sit on the edge of the bed.
“You don’t have to tell me,” she began, but he waved her off.
“I know. But there is something about you. I will tell you because I want to tell you.”
She didn’t blush outwardly, but her soul stirred at the way he said there was something about her. As if he liked whatever that “something” was. She hoped he would want to find out more about it. Ana certainly did.
“I am not sure if you are aware, because the legends—the ones I have heard at least—focus so much on me being the first dragon shifter, but to my knowledge, I am the first shifter.”
Period. Hard stop. Not just the first dragon shifter. But the first shifter ever. She swallowed hard at that revelation.
“I did not know that,” she said at last, not sure what else to say. “How—how did it happen?” she said, having to force the question out.
Ferro shrugged. “I honestly have no idea. I cannot recall an incident that occurred to cause it, and I certainly poured over every minute of my life after I realized what had happened. I can only guess that something happened to my father, or mother, that lay dormant within them, but was activated in me as I went through puberty.”
“That must have been horrifying.” It may have happened eight thousand years ago, but Ana was just learning about it for the first time, and she desperately wanted to reach out and hold Ferro.
She didn’t tell him then, but having gone through the same thing herself many years before, she knew how hard it would have been. Nobody could know exactly what it had been like for him, but when she first turned, there had been no support system for her either. Shifters weren’t widely acknowledged as being real, and unless you were born into a family of them, you would never know that there were others like you. For Ana, she now knew it would have made no difference. There were no others like her.
“It was hard,” he acknowledged. “But what happened next was worse.”
Ana frowned in confusion. “What do you mean? What happened next?”
He gave her an apologetic look. “I was a teenage boy, with a strength no man could match, and I could shift into a massive dragon. The weapons of the time could not hurt me, not to the point I could not heal, at least.”
Ana had a feel
ing she wasn’t going to like where he was going with this.
“I did not know how to control myself. Every teenage boy feels like they are invincible, but they know deep down inside they are not, that even they have a limit.” He shook his head. “Except me. I was invincible. I could do anything I wanted. Nobody could stop me.”
“You didn’t know any better,” she began, but he cut her off with a curt chop of his hand.
“I appreciate your attempt,” he said calmly, “but I did what I did. If I had done it for six months, or a year, then maybe.” He closed his eyes, letting out a big sigh. “But it was more than just months. More than years.”
She felt a small sliver of horror grow within her. “How long?” She needed to know.
“Centuries.”
Her jaw dropped open. “Oh.” It was such a small word for such a mind-numbing revelation.
Ferro shook his head. “For nearly five hundred years, I did whatever I wanted. Went wherever I pleased, ate whatever I desired. You get the picture. I was a terrible person. I still have nightmares to this day about the wanton destruction, and I am sorry to say death, that resulted.”
“What happened? Why did you stop?”
“Life,” he said simply, holding out his hands.
All of a sudden, she understood. “The first dragons.”
Ferro nodded. “My children. Only three of them were born in that time. The eldest three. Luthor. Karthorax—whose son you already met—and Parlanah, a daughter. The rest were born over the course of the next millennia, as I tried to right the wrongs I had committed.”
“The Dragon Council,” she supplied.
“Exactly. I am not proud of who I was, and what I did. I will have to live with that shame until the end of my days, however long that may be.” His eyes snapped up, burning bright and silver once more. “But I strongly believe that the Dragon Council has stopped far worse from happening. They kept themselves, and me, in check for thousands of years. It saved millions of lives in the process, I am sure.”
He stood from his chair in front of the table so violently the chair skidded backward and tipped over. “That is why the Order must not be allowed to win.” He focused on her. “You cannot imagine the havoc and death that would be visited upon this world if dragons are left unchecked.” He frowned. “The Black Death, the Bubonic Plague, whatever you want to call it. You are familiar with it, yes?”
She nodded.
“That was a dragon’s doing. He spread it far faster than it should have, flying from continent to continent, infecting hundreds of thousands, if not millions. It wiped out over a third of the earth’s population before the rest of us could stop him. That was an oversight, brought about because dragons were not aware of what was going on for five years. Five years, one dragon.” He bowed his head. “Imagine what twenty could do. Or fifty.”
She shivered. “I would much rather prefer to think of things the way they are,” she said, her voice more unsteady than she had expected.
Ferro swiveled to look at her, picking up on the fact that he was disturbing her.
“Ana,” he said, coming to her side by the bed. “I am sorry. I did not mean to cause you any distress.” He sighed again. “It has been a long time since I have talked so much. I often forget that what I have come to terms with, they might not.”
He made to wrap his arm around her, then seemed to think better of it.
“Why did you stop?” she asked, looking up at him.
He hesitated. “I... I did not think you would want comfort from one such as me. Not after what I have told you.”
Ana reached down and took his arm, bringing it up around her shoulders.
“Whatever you may have done, whoever you may have been, I think it is clear that you are no longer that person,” she told him seriously. “You have changed. Matured. Realized the errors of your past, and done the best you can to atone for them.” She shrugged. “Everyone makes mistakes. Even dragons,” she said, looking up at him.
He refused to meet her gaze, shame written on his face.
“No,” she said firmly, reaching up and taking his chin, feeling his facial hair under her touch. “Look at me.”
Reluctantly he turned his head, giving in to her command. His eyes were dull gray-brown, without any shine.
Without realizing it, she found her hand creeping up his face, caressing him. “Tell me something,” she whispered throatily.
“Anything,” came the reply, fraught with tension.
“Do your eyes only light up when you’re mad? Or will any strong, ah, emotion, do?”
She saw his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed. “I am unsure.”
Feeling both bold and slightly curious as to just what had brought them together, she took a leap and went to kiss him again.
***
Ferro jerked back under her touch, but she held his head firm with her hand. Inch by inch the gap between them closed, as both of them tentatively revealed their desires to the other.
“Are you sure?” he asked in the instant before their lips touched.
She nodded shakily, positive about her course of action. Centuries down the road, she didn’t want to look back with regret on an opportunity like this. There was something going on between them; they had some sort of connection. It terrified her to think about what it might be, but she knew she needed to find out. Just moments before she closed her eyes, she saw what she was looking for.
A silvery glow began to pulsate in his eyes, growing brighter as she grew nearer. It was the sign she had wanted to see. She relinquished her last reserve lines, casting any caution she may have had to the wind, and bringing her lips in contact with his.
Fire exploded in her chest as the connection was made, reaffirming her belief that some sort of bond had been forged between them. She was unsure how strong it was, but the growing passion inside of her—and what she felt reciprocated from Ferro as he moved next to her—confirmed to Ana that it was something spectacular.
The warmth of his touch sent thousands of miniature explosions of heat racing across her skin while tendrils of it hooked deep into her core, threading their way between her legs. The embers burning there were stoked to life as he lightly dragged his fingertips up the inside of her leg.
A moan rushed up inside of her, escaping through the constant press of Ferro’s lips against hers, louder than she had intended.
“Hush, my dear,” he urged. “These walls are rather thin. We do not want them to think we are breeding demons in here.”
Ana pulled back in shock at his nonchalant line, ready to admonish him for breaking the moment until she saw the playful grin on his face.
“Oh it’s like that, is it?” she replied with equal flippancy.
“If you can’t control yourself yet,” he said mischievously, “how are you going to fare when I do more than stroke your leg?”
Putting action to words, his hand made its way to the apex of her thighs, his index finger easily finding the fire between her legs, turning it from a flickering flame into a roaring blaze.
She hissed, instinctively biting her lower lip as Ferro rose up to loom over her. His free arm moved past her, settling onto the bed, while he continued to making her struggle for breath with the nimble fingers of his other.
His eyes were more silver than gray now, the pupils outlined by the ever-growing brightness. Ana sucked in the view as he lowered himself atop of her, his goatee tickling her ever so lightly as it brushed against her skin when his lips sought hers once more.
“You are so beautiful,” he told her, his voice taking on that thick, powerful tone of passion that all men got when a woman caught their attention. His eyes glittered as they drank in her body.
She knew from the way he looked at her that he wanted to see more, to view her body unclothed. Eager to obey, she arched her back, pulling her shirt off, the black material flying across the room to hit the floor with a soft rustle of the fabric. Eager fingers ran around her side and up
her back, removing her bra clasp with ease.
A sound halfway between a growl and a groan echoed deep in his throat as her breasts were bared for him, her back still arched as he pulled her toward him, his lips hungrily taking one of her nipples inside his mouth. The warmth of his mouth on her skin sent a chill down her spine and she pulled him in closer to her, wrapping her strong arms around his back and holding tight. His every touch drove her to new heights, invoking an intensity of passion and desire that she hadn’t ever known existed.
Ana wasn’t new to men. She had lived alone for a long time, and a woman had needs. But she had never felt the depth of connection, the emotional harmony that now sang between them. They moved in time with each other, their bodies bending and writhing in perfect sync. There were no awkward knee bumps, head movements, or hand placements. Every time one of them did something, it complemented the other perfectly.
Her body was singing from the attention he was giving her, and she knew it wouldn’t be long before he sent her over the edge, regardless of the clothing barrier. Knowing it would be better if he had unrestricted access, Ana reluctantly pushed his hand away for the time it took her to strip her pants off.
But Ferro surprised her. His hand never returned, but instead he grabbed her near leg and used it to roll himself over, until his mouth landed perfectly between her legs, heat blasting from his tongue as it caressed her.
She couldn’t help it. She cried out, immediately clamping her hands over her mouth to prevent any further noises from escaping.
And there were many, as Ferro continued to lavish attention upon her. As she felt herself reaching the edge, her body beginning to shudder on its own under his touch, a finger slipped inside of her. It curved around until it easily found purchase, rubbing on that one…perfect…little…spot.
Ana exploded, her hips rocketing from the bed, aided by Ferro as his free hand snaked under her rear, holding it aloft while her shoulders bounced and dragged along the bedding. Her core tightened into a knit ball for one long anguishing moment, and then all hell broke loose as her orgasm exploded with a light that eclipsed even the glow from his eyes.
