***
Dakota closed the space between her and the professor.
“Did you take us into the dragon territory?” her voice growled as she raised a finger toward the older woman.
Her eyes widened ever so slightly. “I would never do something so stupid. If I were to do a thing like that, I could very well lose my job.”
Dakota narrowed her eyes. This professor’s lying could make Dakota lose everything she’d fought for. All the money she’d spent on the airline tickets, the work she’d put into getting the grant, would be wasted because this woman wanted to lie to her. Or, worse, the woman had no idea just how close she’d taken her students to the dragon territory.
“Why?” the professor asked. “Did you see a dragon, Miss Brennan?”
Dakota felt the blood rush from her face. “No. Not at all.”
Like that, her anger was gone. In its place was cold fear. She had almost ruined everything for herself with her angry words. Professor Llewellyn would be forced to report her to the Dean if she knew that Dakota had not only seen a dragon, but nearly interacted with one.
“Don’t be so afraid.” The professor laid a warm hand on Dakota’s arm.
Chapter Three
Wesley flew back to his home, his thoughts filled with the woman that refused to look at him. The stone tower that he’d worked to rebuild over his years rose from the tree studded territory. As his form glided down toward the roof, he let magic wrap around him and shrink his form. Human feet slapped the stone roof.
The structure shuddered beneath him as if it had the full weight of a dragon dropped upon it. Wes paused and prayed that his home would hold. When nothing fell, he straightened himself. He’d found the castle in disrepair right after the Occurrence had trapped him on the territory. It had captured his attention for years as he rebuilt it stone by stone and turned it into a home for himself, but it was nearly finished and he was growing bored.
The rooms seemed empty. The halls were filled with only the sound of the wind around him. The rooms only held the crackle of fire in the hearths. His kind were solitary creatures, unable to stand one another’s presence for much longer than a night before scales started to get ruffled. Some dragons liked the peace and quiet. He knew that his grandfather had come to live with it.
Other dragons, like Elgar, started to hear things in the silence. Even that was a kind of company.
Wes shook his head. He was thinking depressing thoughts, he reminded himself. It would do no good for him to dwell on such things. He could do nothing about it besides busy himself. He could add a new tower to the castle or start to build a new bed for his master bedroom. Either one would take a sufficient amount of his time, and would keep his human hands busy.
He reached for the set of clothes that he kept on the roof, a pair of sweat pants worn thin over time and a t-shirt that stretched over his broad shoulders. Soon, he would have to ask his mother to make a trip to the city to grab him more clothing. No one knew that she was the mate of an old dragon and it helped her to still get around. It also helped Wes and his father from time to time. He could recall times that his mother had to go to the city to replace electronics that his father had destroyed by accident.
Welsh dragons were far too prone to melting things, mostly modern plastics.
Properly dressed, Wes descended the stairs while deciding what would best put his hands to use. The beast in his head had other ideas. Images of the dark-haired vixen crossed his mind once more. The way that she had glared at them made his dragon hot with anger.
Not everyone has to love you.
Wesley felt his beast narrow his eyes and blow a huff of steam. It burned him from the inside out.
We are honor bound to stay within the territory. Forget the woman. We are already pushing our limits too much as it is.
Even as Wes told his beast to forget her, he knew that he could barely push her from his own mind. The smell of her had been unusual and clung to his senses. Irises. That was what he’d smelled on her. So different from the other women that drowned themselves in vanilla or musk to attract men. She smelled of simple gardens.
No. He shook his head. Forget her. Clearly, she hadn’t been interested. She’d snubbed him and his attempt to draw even a single smile out of her.
Wes went out to the forge that he’d built for himself and started the fire in the bellows with a bellyful of fire. He would put himself to work. He would drown his mind in complicated designs so that his beast could barely find a voice. He’d been meaning to get to work on a bed for his master bedroom. He wanted something grand and beautiful that he could spread out on. In his mind, he had visions of wrought iron branches and vines that wrapped themselves into complicated knots.
It would be nothing for him to bend the heated metal beneath his hands. The effort would tire the beast inside of him and, maybe, he would sleep peacefully without the thoughts of a dark-haired woman entering his mind.
***
Dakota chewed her lip while she held onto her journal with white knuckles on the trip back to campus. The professor would turn in her seat every so often and cast curious glances in Dakota’s direction. All she wanted was for the professor to forget about her accusation, but she didn’t think she would be that lucky any time soon.
She couldn’t let anyone see what she’d drawn in the journal. She didn’t even know why she’d done it. She’d drawn the red dragon that had played like a curious cat around her.
In the seat ahead of her, Clary turned and smiled at her new friend. “Did you see anything exciting? I found a rock formation that had a vein of crystals growing through it that I want to see if I can replicate with acrylic marbling.” Clary was already digging through her phone for the photos that she’d taken.
Dakota tucked her moleskin journal beneath her thigh before her friend looked up. “I found the remains of what was probably an old cottage. There wasn’t much else to look at.”
Clary looked towards the front of the vehicle. Dakota followed her gaze and found a gray streaked head. Clary turned back and motioned for Dakota to lean closer.
“Simon’s GPS on his phone said that we were only a couple miles from the Snowdonia Territory. I can’t believe a professor, a woman at that, would take us so close to that place. I think we’re all really lucky that we didn’t run into any of the dragon men.”
Dakota nodded with too much emphasis. She had to look a little crazy, she thought. “I think she’s one of those women who wait their whole life to get abducted by a dragon. Maybe she thinks that she’ll get grabbed each time she takes a group of students out to see the castles.”
Clary clapped her hand over her mouth to suppress the laugh that bubbled up from her. “That would be the life, right? I’ve heard some crazy things about the dragons and their lovers.”
Dakota gave her a look that said she didn’t believe her. Clary lit up at the chance to talk about it, her cheeks turning pink.
“No, hear me out. I’ve heard that they can go all night long just to make sure their mate has multiple orgasms. Can’t say that about any human male, can you? I read once that they can share their long life with humans after the mating bond snaps into place. Who doesn’t want to add a few years and a handful of orgasms to their life span?”
“But they’re beasts,” Dakota said, even as her mind brought her back to the dragon she’d met earlier. That hadn’t looked like a beast, despite his size. He looked more like a playful puppy.
Clary scoffed at Dakota’s words. “A beast in the bedroom from the sounds of it.”
Dakota couldn’t help but roll her eyes at her roommate. “Is that all you think about? Your major should have been the Studies of Seduction.”
“Don’t I know it.”
The girls shared a laugh. Ahead of them, the man that Dakota had sketched during the seminar turned to look at them. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Her laugh died in her throat as an unusual feeling rolled through her stomach. She studied the feeling as she met th
e man’s eyes and realized that it was unease.
Eventually, he turned back in his seat, readjusting himself. Dakota turned to her roommate. She hadn’t seen Clary bring him back to their room yet. Now, she had a notion that it was probably a very bad idea. Something about the hard look in his eyes told her that he saw himself as more of an authority than a fellow student.
“I think we should go out tonight,” Clary interrupted her thoughts and brought her back to the present. “We should get to know the city a little bit. I don’t know much about the city’s nightlife, but it has to have one. Right?”
Dakota shrugged. “I didn’t pack for nights out on the town.”
Clary waved her off. “I have you covered. So, will you? Hang out with me tonight, I mean?”
“Do I have a choice?” Dakota couldn’t help the small smile that slipped across her lips. It was just what she needed to get the puppy faced dragon off her mind. No one knew that she had seen him. As long as it stayed that way then she had nothing to worry about. Her future, her dream, was safe.
“That sounds like fun, actually.”
Chapter Four
Wesley bent and twisted hot iron in his grip so that the ends broke off into branches. Pressing small bits of hot iron between his thumb and his forefinger, he shaped small leaves that he could attach to the branches. His project was coming together, but it was almost mindless work.
That left his thoughts with the ability to wander in any direction they wished. The beast inside of him guided those thoughts back to the woman he met earlier. He thought of the wall of dark hair that had covered her face. Only when she had looked up to scowl at his presence had the veil fallen to reveal an elegant nose and perfect lips that begged for his attention. The lower lip had been ripe and full, holding the Cupid’s bow upper lip that he wanted to trace with his thumb.
Wes shook his head, trying to dispel his beast’s thoughts. He was grateful that he’d remained in his dragon form while in the woman’s presence or else he didn’t know what he would have done. If she’d let him, maybe he would have taken her right then and there. His mind might have been clear of her, but tourists could hardly be trusted.
He’d seen how some women had taken the news of the dragons, daringly trekking into the Snowdonia territories to beg a dragon to take her as his mate. It didn’t work that way, no matter how much they pleaded. Those kinds of women, the fan girls, were never dragon mates. They weren’t cut from the right cloth.
No matter how attractive she was, the tourist woman wasn’t mate material. Not if she was one of the fan girls.
Unable to control his thoughts, Wesley set aside his project. The sun had dipped below the horizon and it was clear that he still had far more energy humming through his body than this project could consume. He had to find something else.
He put out the fire in the bellows and put away his tools. The posts of the bed laid on the floor of the forge, just pieces of something that Wes wasn’t even sure that he needed. As long as he was alone in his home, sleeping on the couch was just fine. Sure, he had his own room and a mattress that he clothed in sheets just to appease his human mother’s sensibilities, but the emptiness of the room often echoed too loudly for him in there. More often than not, he would simply stagger inside and throw himself down onto a couch, immediately falling into sleep.
The bed frame, once constructed, would be a massive thing. The branches would rise and curl toward the raised ceiling of the highest room in the tower. During the summer months, he imagined his future mate hanging flowers from the branches or draping gauzy fabric over them so it felt like their own private world while he took her.
The only problem was as the images arose in his mind, the woman in each of them was the scornful creature that he’d come across earlier. The scowl was gone, replaced by a soft smile that she shared just for him as she laid back on the bed he’d made for her.
He cursed loudly. It had been a long time since he’d gone into the city and laid with a woman. That had to be the reason his mind was filled with the thoughts of the woman. It had been the first time that he’d laid eyes on a woman that wasn’t a dragon’s mate in what felt like years. Of course, his hormones had pushed him to claim her as his own if only to fulfil urges that should have been met a long while ago.
Wes had to do something. He needed to fill his mind with thoughts of something else. He glanced in the direction of the city, knowing that it was a bad idea. Leaving the territory without the silver binding was not only forbidden by his father, but by his government. Honor had him marching inside his tower. He replaced the sweat pants for a pair of jeans that he knew framed his ass.
He ripped open the drawer, its contents bouncing about from the force. The silver band jumped forward. A long sigh escaped him. Inside of him, his beast shook his massive body. Candles fell from the hearth mantle behind Wesley. He glanced over his shoulder at the mess that his beast had made.
It’s the only way that we can leave. We need to rut something fierce. It’s the only explanation.
Inside of him, the beast rolled its eyes. Wesley agreed that the binding was strange and uncomfortable, but it would make him feel better. He did not want to tell his father that he planned on leaving the territory, but at the same time he wanted to follow some of the rules in case he was caught. It would be just his luck that he would run into his mother on her way home from work.
Wesley grabbed the plain silver band from the drawer and pushed it up his arm so that it sat high on his forearm. His muscle protested at the binding, but inside of him there was nothing but ringing silence. It was almost painful in how uncomfortable it was, but he also knew that this was not a night in which pleasuring himself would suffice. He needed the touch of another.
Since flying into the city clearly wasn’t going to happen, between the binding and how conspicuous it was, Wes turned to the old truck that was parked beside the tower. He ran it from time to time, mostly when he needed to drive it over to his mother when she wanted to drive something large into the territory. He wasn’t a fan of being confined inside of a metal box, but it would do for the night. He flipped the visor and a key fell into his hand.
His father would kill him if he ever found out what he was doing. Wes should wait for the next night that they were allowed to go into town, but he didn’t know if he could live with the thoughts of her filling his mind night after night. She would drive him insane if he couldn’t lay his hands on another woman and drive her from his mind.
Chapter Five
Dakota couldn’t believe she’d been talked into this. Going out for a drink was one thing, but what Clary had pulled out for her to wear was another thing completely. Yet, she’d agreed to it. She wanted to forget about what happened earlier. She wanted to remind herself to not worry so much.
That desire left her sitting on a bar stool and tugging down the hem of her roommate’s short dress. She felt ridiculous, pulling her beer closer while wearing a mini-dress that belonged in a nightclub. Her roommate had bounced into the crowd, her infectious smile enough currency to earn her a seat at every table in the room. Dakota spun on her bar stool and her eyes found Clary, the girl wearing a pair of skin tight pants and a loose top that hung from her form by the thinnest straps.
The local guys at the table were attractive enough. They had broad shoulders that she thought would have done them good in rugby. One had a scar over his lip that made him look just dangerous enough to be fine for a night of fun. Clary spun away from them and bounced back toward her. The girl grabbed Dakota’s hands in her own and pulled her from her seat.
“They’ve offered to buy our drinks for the rest of the night,” Clary informed her.
Dakota would rather have her journal to replicate the scar over the man’s lip than have him buy her drinks. She wanted to draw the group of older men that sat in the far corner, raucously slapping each other on the back as though they were still young men on the prowl. No one here caught her interest enough to warrant the silly dress
that Clary had stuffed her into.
The bell over the pub door rang, singing in Dakota’s ears over the dull roar of the pub patrons. She threw a glance over only to find her breath caught in her throat. The man standing just inside of the door put the boys at the table to shame. His shoulders were wide from actual muscle, visible from the thick muscle in his arms. Coppery hair was pushed back by his fingers as he ran his hand through it. Cool, blue eyes scanned the crowd.
They paused on Dakota and she felt her core grow warm. Clary followed her gaze and she heard her roommate swear softly.
“Why do all the boys have only eyes for you?”
“Normally, it’s because I don’t have eyes for them.” Dakota knew when a man wanted her only because he thought she would be a challenge, not because he enjoyed who she really was. Most of them looked at her like that. She was the brainy girl, more concerned with her studies than with boys or sex. Guys often saw it as a personal achievement if they could pull her attention from her studies for a night.
That wasn’t the way that this man was looking at her. His gaze made her feel like she was already naked as his eyes moved up her bare arms.
“Here’s the deal,” Clary whispered in her ear. “I get the two at the table while you go get tall, ginger, hot damn over there. I think it’s only fair that I get two if you get…. that.”
Dakota laughed nervously before her friend pushed her in the new man’s direction. She tugged the hem of the short dress and turned back to the new man only to find that he moved on. Her heart dropped through her stomach. She searched the crowd for the head of wild and coppery hair, catching glimpses as he moved through the crowd.
***
There she was, a little flame sitting at the bar. He should have turned around and found another bar. Instead, he let his eyes travel over her body. She wore a little dress made from a shimmery fabric in shades of red to orange. Her charcoal hair made her look like she was on fire, burning to capture his attention. Her long legs begged for him to run his hands up their smooth surface and pull them apart. His pants grew tighter around him.
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