“You bet your American ass that I am,” he growled into her face. “And I will see that all of the red dragons are pushed from the home they took from my family. It was never theirs.”
He threw her forward. The man in the moustache motioned for her to walk. They led her out a back door to a black van with a Guardians logo on the side of it. They looked official. If anyone bothered to look at them, it would seem like a student was being sent home after having a run in with a dragon. It was only part of the truth.
She wasn’t going home, though.
It made her heart thump heavily inside of her chest. She placed a hand over her heart and willed it to calm itself. She climbed into the back of the van and promised herself that she would get out of this alive.
Chapter Fourteen
“I smelled you on a student today,” his mother growled when he answered the door. The human woman with thin gray streaks in her hair pushed past him into his territory, trailing the scent of books and old dust with her.
Wesley could do nothing as the small female fumed. He couldn’t be angry that she’d invaded his home like he would have if she were anyone else. He was bound to honor this woman, his mother and the mate of the head of the Welsh Dragons. She squared blazing eyes at him and stepped closer. Her finger pressed into his chest and he could do nothing. He had to endure her anger.
“Why did I smell you on a student in my class when the rutting night is still two weeks away? When my son has chosen not to partake in a rutting night in years?”
In her mate bond, not only had she benefitted from the extended life of a dragon, but she had picked up their sense of smell, too. Wes was a little surprised that she hadn’t formed a beast of her own. He imagined that she would be a coal black monstrosity that flew over Snowdonia to terrify away those that might hurt her clan, as fierce as this small human woman was.
It made him wonder, if only for a moment, what kind of beast his Dakota would have been if she were one of their kind.
“So? Do you have anything to say for yourself?”
He was jerked back to the present by the woman’s fisted hand in his shirt that yanked him forward as though he were a small child again. Wesley’s voice cracked. “She’s my mate, ma.”
Her face lit up. All the burning anger that she once held was chased away by pure joy. She threw her hands into the air in celebration.
“It’s about damn time,” she cried. “Do you know how long I’ve been dragging students to the eastern ruins just because I knew that my own son couldn’t stay bound to the earth like his father demanded?”
Realization hit Wes like a ton of bricks. Though, he suspected the idiom would be lost on him if he were to be hit with a literal ton of bricks. It wouldn’t hold a candle to the way he felt as he stood in front of his mother.
“You’re telling me that you orchestrated that?” he snapped. “You are a meddling Halfling.”
“Your father certainly has called me worse. Halfling? Really? I’m fairly certain Tolkien did not envision a rare beauty such as myself when he envisioned his Hobbits. Anyway, I have to look out for you, don’t I? I am your mother and it was about time that you found yourself a mate.”
“Oh, yes. Great idea, mother. You found me a woman that won’t even talk to me. She went back to her life and forgot about me while I’m still trapped here.” A vase on the hearth mantle cracked. Ceramic pieces shot across the room. He thought about Dakota day and night. There was no amount of work that could fill his time - that could chase the memory of her straddling him from his mind.
The iron bed that he’d begun work on the day that he met her was shoved to the back of the workroom once he realized that she would never come back to him. It became a pointless dream. She had a life outside of Snowdonia that meant more to her than he did. It was reasonable, he told himself. They knew each other for only the span of a night.
Instead, he forced himself to remain busy by forging tools and weapons that they would sell to markets. People had a large fascination with the days of old and the things used in them. Mostly weapons, Wesley thought. Men loved to buy swords that their ancestors could have used, when most of their ancestors probably had lived their lives as farmers and never touched a sword.
“You should go to her. I will speak to your father about you leaving the territory. You aren’t the face of the Welsh dragons the way that he is. No one will recognize you aside from her. Go and win her over so that you aren’t forced to spend your life in loneliness.”
Wesley shook his head. “No. She made a decision and I will honor that. She walked away and hasn’t called since. What do I have if I force her into a life she does not want?”
His mother slapped his cheek, lightly, but with enough force to bring him back to the present. “You are her happiness. There aren’t many women in the world with a soul mate. Do you think she would live a happy life if she gave that up? Sure, dragons can be hot headed and controlling. They can be needy man children and they can be kings. But, at the end of the day, they have a soul just like anyone else.”
As they were talking, Wes felt his stomach hit the floor like a sack of stones. He fell onto the nearby couch, dumbstruck. It was a feeling that he’d never felt before in his life. It was inexplicable, yet his mother took one glance at the stupid look on his face and her own face went grim.
“Something is wrong with your mate,” she said, her voice hoarse. “Your father had that look when I cut my thigh open.”
He turned to his mother. “What is wrong with her?”
The older woman shook her head, lips pressed together. “All I know is that she needs you. Your father is going to have kittens.”
“He can have all the cats that he wants,” Wes said before shooting up from the couch.
He was at the truck when his mother appeared beside him. Her time with his father had left her with a lot of inhuman abilities.
“You need to think this over,” she said. Her hand fell on his arm, her grip tight in warning. “Dragons aren’t allowed off their territories more than one night a month. I’m willing to keep the other night a secret, but if you go running after her right now you could get the whole family in trouble. Wait for your father to open the right channels for you.”
“What if I don’t have the time? She’s in trouble and I can’t go help her.”
“She could have just hurt herself. She’s on campus. There are a lot of people to help her if she’s hurt. She could be perfectly fine.”
Wes sucked in a breath through his nose. He was trying to control himself, despite the growing fear that chilled his bones. Dakota was in trouble and he couldn’t go to her rescue. The heavy feeling rolled around his stomach. He had a feeling that it was much worse than a simple cut or a broken bone.
He pushed himself up from the couch, unable to keep still anymore. He paced back and forth in his living area. Magic rippled out from him, unable to keep himself under control. The walls shook as his beast thrashed back and forth. His mate was in trouble and he was trapped on the territory.
He threw his head back and roared. The sound made his mother leave the tower altogether. He followed her outside where there was more room to move. The walls felt constricting and he would tear down each carefully set stone in his frenzy.
His mother was on her cell phone. When she saw him approach, she held up one finger and shot him a stern look. His beast growled, but backed down from the fiery look in the woman’s eyes. Instead, they turned to the work shed.
Do something. He had to do something. He had to keep his mind busy. He couldn’t keep worrying about Dakota. He couldn’t bear to think that she was unsafe. She was in trouble. She needed him.
Wes gripped a piece of metal that had been set aside for a blade and bent it in his hands. He felt his fire warm his hands. He was going to implode if he didn’t do something.
Soon.
His beast was going mad. It thrashed inside of his mind, demanding to be let free. Their mate was in trouble and they had
to do something about it. They would not fail that woman. They could not.
***
Dakota sat quietly in her seat. She looked around the van at the people escorting her to her own funeral. Beside her sat the secretary that had pulled the blinds down at the moustache man’s request. Her dark red hair was drawn back into a tight bun. Her eyes looked out the window, but her body was still. It said that she was ready to move if Dakota tried anything.
In the driver’s seat was the man with the ridiculous moustache. Beside him sat another, younger man from the Guardians’ office. The dragon they had been calling Raph, possibly short for Raphael, had been left behind. That gave her some hope. She didn’t forget about the gun the moustache man had pulled on her earlier, though.
“What made you sign on to the guardians?” Dakota asked the woman beside her.
The woman turned wide eyes toward her. They quickly narrowed with suspicion. There was no ally to be had in this woman, but she could be distracting if she had to.
“Why are you fighting against the dragons?”
“It’s in my blood,” the woman replied. “My family has always protected humanity from things that can level entire towns with their breath. If you weren’t so stupid, you would be afraid of them, too.”
Dakota laughed, thinking of how tender Wes had been with her. Sure, maybe she was his mate, but neither of them had known that. He hadn’t known it when he saved her from being raped by a human. He hadn’t known it when he insisted that he feed her rumbling belly. Wes was no more a monster than she was. Looking around the van, Dakota knew who the real monsters were.
“I’m okay with being stupid,” Dakota confessed. “I mean, at least I’m not blind. I’m not letting another dragon order me around when I hate their kind. Doesn’t that seem a little counter intuitive?”
Dakota watched the woman’s eyes flick to the back of the moustache man’s head for just a second. Her eyes returned to hold Dakota’s stare. Dakota tried to look as innocent as possible, like she was truly as stupid at the woman thought her to be.
“He is nothing more than an informant. He sniffed you out for us, did he not?”
Dakota frowned at the memory. “What does he get from that? Do you pay him? Or, does he get a free pass to walk among humanity, where he can really hurt people?”
Maybe she couldn’t play stupid after all. It didn’t really suit her anyway. The woman’s eyes darkened. Dakota knew that this woman didn’t like Raph’s presence any more than she did. She had hit the nail on the head. But, she wasn’t going to get an ally out of her as the mate of a dragon. The best she could do was create dissent among them.
Then what could she do? The woman would be angry with her male counter parts. Dakota could see to that. But, what purpose did it serve? If she could get them to argue after the van stopped, then maybe she could make a break for it. There was the minor problem of the man’s gun. If he had one, did the rest of them have a weapon, too?
Would they shoot her wherever they were taking her? That was a stupid question, she told herself. She had watched a few too many police procedurals with her mother. She knew that they meant to kill her anyway. Would they make her death look like a dragon had killed her to rile up not only Wes, but the human community of Bangor?
She rubbed her hands over her face, trying to organize her thoughts. Her mind felt like a mess. She couldn’t think straight enough to formulate a plan. To be fair this wasn’t a situation she ever thought she would be in. The pamphlet had simply stated that students that fraternized with the dragons were to be sent home. It didn’t say that she might become the mate of one of them. It didn’t say that the Guardians might use you to start a Dragon Human war.
The school really needed to update its pamphlet, she thought.
The van came to a stop. Dakota’s gaze flicked to the scene outside her window. They had stopped in an alley. Outside the windshield, a metal door stood off to the side. It was on the side of a dark, gray stone building. The woman gripped Dakota’s arm and the man that had been in front of her slid her door open. The woman shoved her out the door.
Now was the time. She had to get them to argue. It was her only chance to get away. If she could escape them, there would be no war. She might not have her study abroad program anymore, but at that moment, the war seemed a whole lot more pressing.
That and her life. That was important, too.
“How do you know he isn’t a dragon, too? Raph seemed to listen to him pretty well.” Dakota nodded to Wilson as he walked ahead of them.
The woman paused. Dakota watched her eyes rise to meet the man that now held Dakota’s other arm. There was a whole silent conversation that passed between them that Dakota missed out on. She hoped that her words had struck home. She hoped that he would listen to his partner.
The woman’s grip on her arm lightened. Dakota shifted her weight on her feet, ready to run.
“Why would another dragon help you guys the way that Raph did? Isn’t there some sort of hierarchy within their families?” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “What if he’s Raph’s relative? Father? Uncle? Why do they want you working for them?”
The woman’s hand fell away and Dakota took the chance to run. Only, the man held on tighter. She fell forward. Her cheek hit the pavement. Her ears rang from the impact. No. She wasn’t done yet. She rolled so that her body faced the man before kicking out at him. Her foot connected with his groin and she could jerk her arm from his grip.
Dakota scrambled to her feet.
Something hit her in the shoulder. It burned, white hot pain coursing across her vision. She fell forward. When she tried to push herself up, her left arm refused to comply. It wobbled beneath her weight and the white-hot pain filled her again.
Feet appeared in the corner of her vision. A pair of dark red pumps kicked her prone body. The pain flared again. The red-haired woman knelt beside Dakota’s form so that they were face to face.
“Did you think we were that stupid? That we would believe your ploy?”
Dakota waited for fear and panic to take over, but, instead, she felt a well of anger begin to burn. She turned her head to glare at the woman. Despite the resolve in the woman’s stance, Dakota could see the question burning in her eyes. The woman working with them no longer followed blindly. Maybe she wasn’t an ally in all of this, but she would never complicity follow again.
When they grabbed Dakota by her arms to drag her to her feet, a blinding pain filled her shoulder. It made her cry out until the man slapped a gloved hand over her mouth. She’d been shot. It was an odd feeling that she had never expected to feel in her life. Once she stumbled to her feet, her torso burned, the shoulder at the very center of it. Her arm hung uselessly at her side when the woman let it go.
Dakota tried to move the fingers of the useless arm, hoping that it was only shock that made the whole appendage numb and not something more permanent. She choked back a sob. Dead was also a lot more permanent.
How was she going to get out of this? Her life was already ruined, everything she’d worked for thrown to the wind. She was now associated with dragons no matter what happened from here on out. Regardless of the lost study abroad program, no museum was going to hire her, either believing her to be a head case or a liability. The Guardians had let slip that she was the mate of one of the Welsh dragons.
Wesley’s mate.
She didn’t know what that meant for her just then.
Glaring at the ground, Dakota’s mind worked over the possibilities of how this might end for her, trying to decide which of them was the most acceptable. Her despair was almost so overwhelming that she was tempted to settle for the fate the Guardians had planned for her. It was only the burning rage that was nestled inside of her chest that kept that thought at bay.
She would fight. She would live.
Chapter Fifteen
Wes roared, so loud that the trees shook with his anger and pain. Far below him, his mother drove her small car toward his parents’
territory within Snowdonia. Dakota’s pain filled him and fed his anger. The beast thrashed its long tail. It knew that they needed to go to Dakota, laws be damned. She was their mate, their only chance at happiness in their long life. She was going to die without him.
He knew it. The realization felt like a pile of rocks sitting heavy in his stomach. Yet, all he could do was fly over the territory he was chained to. Wes knew what kind of trouble he would face if he left the territory before the channels were opened to him, but he worried that it would be too late.
When his parents’ sprawling cottage came into view, he let the form of his beast fall away. The beast did not want to give up control just yet. It wanted to keep its threatening form to crush those that were hurting his mate. Wes reminded his beast that he would need speech to talk to their father and his beast gave way. Human feet slammed into the ground and the earth gave way beneath him.
His mother climbed out of her car, mouth open to yell at him until she saw the look in his eyes. She quickly snapped her mouth shut and turned a grim expression toward the cottage. An angry man appeared in the cottage doorway. Fists clenched at his sides, the man was well over six feet tall. His dark red hair was growing white around his sideburns, but no one would have dared to look him in the face and call him an old man. Shockingly blue eyes scanned his wife to make sure she was safe before they narrowed and turned to his son.
Wes was struggling to reign himself in, his breathing coming heavy. His hand curled into tense claws, every muscle in his body aching with the potential for violence. His father’s gaze falling on him cut through the madness in his mind like a hot knife. For a second, Wes had clarity. The beast pulled back and his eyes shifted back to steely blue. His body let go of some of the tension that filled him and dropped to one knee before his sire, letting his head fall toward the ground.
Honor was the only thing that bound their society. It was the unspoken law that allowed them to survive. Wes’s father stood at the very top of that power. While it granted Wes a good deal of power for himself, it meant the lines that he walked were much narrower. For Wes to lose face would be for his father to lose face, and that would destroy what his father had built.
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