Drakon's Tear

by N. J. Walters

  She nodded and glanced toward the open door.

  “Sleep,” he told her. “I won’t be long.”

  She closed her eyes and nodded. “Okay.” She was asleep almost as soon as her eyes were fully shut. The tension and stress, not to mention the blood loss and healing, had taken their toll.

  He hated to leave her but knew he had to tie up the loose end in his living room. He’d have to pack up his home and move, too. He hated that, but there was no other choice. There was no telling who Bruno had told about this place. And if not Bruno, maybe someone who’d worked for him. One of his mercenaries could have easily sold the information. In this day of technology, it could be done quickly and easily with a phone call and a money transfer.

  He quietly left the room and closed the door behind him. The walls and floor of the living area were still covered in ice. He walked over to the frozen statue that had been Anton Bruno and studied him. He looked ordinary, if somewhat brutish in appearance. What made a man like him? What made a man want to capture another and bleed him for power and longevity?

  There was no other animal as cruel and cunning as man. They sank to depths of depravity that still managed to surprise him in spite of everything he’d seen in his long life.

  It was easy for him to move the frozen Knight into the elevator. At the last second, he grabbed the small artifact Bruno had brought with him. The hum from it made some of Vasili’s tattoos vibrate, a sure sign they were fighting the magic contained inside the artifact. It could not be allowed to exist.

  Thankfully, he hadn’t damaged the mechanism too badly when he’d jumped down, and the metal cage rose to the top with only a clunk or two of protest. He carried the frozen body out into the scorched yard and set it down in the center, tossing the artifact down beside it.

  He was exhausted and needed food and rest. Shifting and fighting was hard work. It also took a lot of energy to employ as much fire as he had, unless one was a fire drakon. They thrived on it, much as he did in the cold.

  Still, he wouldn’t rest until this was done. He blew softly at first, melting the ice. He was curious about his theory, wondering if Bruno could survive his icy tomb because of the blood he’d ingested over the years. Vasili had no idea how many years he’d had a drakon captive, but it was probably quite a few.

  Sure enough, Bruno moaned and his eyelids fluttered open. Vasili didn’t give the man time to speak. He shifted into his dragon form, breathed deeply, and released the flames. They skated over Bruno at first, not penetrating his skin. Was the drakon blood protecting itself? It seemed likely, but there wasn’t enough of it in him to protect Bruno indefinitely.

  Bruno cried out as the flames licked at his flesh. He managed to roll over and began to crawl away. That was not happening. Vasili moved closer, his fire growing hotter as his anger grew. The artifact exploded, evaporating into thin air. Finally, Bruno’s skin began to melt. He yelled in terror, but Vasili closed his ears to the screams and pleading and allowed his dragon side to have its way. This man needed to die. Abigail would never be safe as long as he lived.

  Finally, after what seemed to be hours, but was probably only a couple of minutes, Bruno’s body began to collapse. Skin disintegrated and bones crumbled until all that remained was ash. Vasili pulled his flame back and shifted to his human form. He stumbled once before righting himself. He couldn’t remember ever being so exhausted.

  He blew into the wind and scattered the ashes.

  Vasili dragged himself back inside the cabin. He closed the door behind him before heading to the secret door. Making sure it was secure, he took the elevator down to his home. The walls were still icy, so he breathed warm air into the room. It wouldn’t do for it to be cold for Abigail.

  He wanted to go to her side but needed to eat. He was no use to her in his weakened condition. He went to the kitchen and began to eat anything and everything he could get his hands on. After about a half hour, he was feeling well enough to join her.

  She was still exactly as he’d left her. He liked seeing her in his bed. He climbed beneath the covers and pulled her tightly against his body. There was a lot still left to do. He had to clear out his home. Then there was the matter of Bruno’s holdings, as well as any other bespelled artifacts the Knight had seeded around Moscow.

  But there was enough time for them to rest first. If more of Bruno’s men came searching for him, it would take hours, if not days, for them to mobilize, assuming there were any left. His home wasn’t on the beaten path and was difficult to reach. If Vasili was mistaken and they moved quicker than anticipated, his perimeter alarms would alert him to their presence.

  The only important thing now was taking care of his woman. He closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief when she snuggled closer. Only then did he finally relax and allow himself to sleep.

  …

  Abigail woke with Vasili’s arms wrapped around her. The recognition was instantaneous, as were the memories of what had happened. How long had they been sleeping?

  She slowly turned until she was facing her drakon. Even in sleep he was fierce. The dim light from the hallway filtered into the room enough for her to make out his features. She raised her hand to touch his face, but he caught it before it reached him and kissed her palm.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked.

  “I’m fine.” She was also nervous. Telling him that she loved him was one thing when she thought she was dying. Facing him now that he knew the truth was quite another. “You?”

  He made a low rumbling sound that made the entire bed vibrate. “I’ll be fine.” He combed his fingers through her hair and sighed. “I thought I’d lost you.” The starkness of his words, the unvarnished pain in his voice made her heart hurt. She threw herself against him and buried her face against his chest.

  “I was so worried about you.”

  He stilled and eased back enough so he could see her. “You do know I’m a drakon, right?” The sardonic tone made her grin.

  “I’m well aware of that, but I also know the Knights have captured and held drakons before.”

  He kissed her forehead. “I keep telling you I’m special.”

  She laughed in spite of the seriousness of what had happened. Her drakon had a dry sense of humor beneath the cold exterior he showed the world. “So you are.”

  “So are you.” He kissed her then, and she sighed, leaning into the embrace. She needed this, needed his heat and passion to thaw the icy memories. Once again, he’d saved her. He’d fought and killed many men who wanted to cage him for their own gain.

  Their breath mingled, and their tongues tangled. She knew there was a lot to talk about and plans to make, but she let all of it go. Touching him, reassuring herself he truly was fine, was all that mattered.

  She ran her hands over his chest and shoulders. He rolled onto his back, taking her with him until she was lying on top of his larger, harder body. His hands roamed her body, curving over her hips and gliding up her spine until he finally slid them around to the front and cupped her breasts.

  She sucked in a deep breath and moaned. His hands felt so good on her body. They were big and rough, yet he always handled her like she was precious.

  “Tell me again,” he demanded.

  She stared down at her drakon. His eyes glowed in the dark, his chin tilted upward, and his jaw was taut. She knew what he wanted and gave it freely. If there was one thing she knew, it was that life was too short to hold back. “I love you.”

  He gave a strangled groan and pulled her down until their lips collided. Heat radiated through her. She had no idea if it was from him or from the passion they generated when they touched.

  Vasili’s kiss was consuming. Their tongues tangled in a heated duel, their only outcome mutual pleasure. There wasn’t enough air to breathe, but that didn’t seem to matter. She wanted to give him whatever he needed and take whatever he gave her.

  He continued to stroke and touch, as though he was memorizing her entire body. Each place his f
ingers grazed, he left a sensual heat behind. When she finally pulled away and gasped for air, her entire body was on fire with need.

  “I want you, Abigail.” It wasn’t exactly an undying declaration of love, but she was okay with that. She was beginning to understand him more and more with each moment they spent together. Words would not come easy to him, but actions would.

  She had no idea if they truly would be together forever, or if their time would be limited. Surprisingly enough, she was okay with that. Life was a gift. She’d almost lost hers several times now and wasn’t about to waste another minute on regrets or holding back.

  She planned to take whatever goodness life offered her. And right now, that was Vasili Zima.

  “I want you, too.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Vasili knew he had no right demanding Abigail tell him she loved him when he couldn’t say the words back. Not that he didn’t love her. He did. She was his heart, the missing piece of his soul.

  Saying it was a whole other thing.

  In this way, he was a coward. But he could show her. He knew she wouldn’t refuse him. She was too generous, too giving.

  And she loved him.

  No matter how long he lived, he would never get tired of hearing it. He captured her face between his palms and brought her mouth back down to his, telling her without words how much she meant to him.

  He had to stake his claim on Abigail before they left here. Once they were back in the outside world, she would have options, including leaving him and going back to her family.

  So far, being with him hadn’t exactly been a bed of roses. They’d been on the run since the very beginning. She’d slept in the back of a truck and on a train. She’d been chased and killed and held hostage and shot. Not to mention what the mage had tried to do with her with his dark magic.

  This was the first time they’d make love in a real bed, and even now, they couldn’t linger. He needed days—no, weeks—to touch and taste every inch of her body, to love her as she deserved.

  She slowly eased away, their lips clinging before they finally parted. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Her eyes were filled with concern, with love. For him. He’d never been more okay in his life.

  He wrapped his arms around her and rolled. She gave a squeal and then laughed. It was the most beautiful sound in the world. Well, maybe after the way she called his name when they made love. That was truly the most spectacular one.

  With her arms wrapped around his neck, she smiled up at him. “Wanted to be on top, did you?”

  “Abigail.” That was all he said, just her name. Her smile faded and the expression in her eyes softened.

  “Whatever you need.”

  This tiny slip of a human woman brought him to his knees with her kindness and her ability to give. He buried his face in the curve of her neck and inhaled her sweet scent. He could still smell Bruno on her where the bastard had touched her. He hated that, but he didn’t want to let her go long enough for her to shower.

  She was still mostly dressed. He hadn’t taken the time to remove her clothing before falling into bed beside her, which told him just how tired he’d been. He stripped her quickly and efficiently, tossing her clothing aside. He’d burn it all later. She could wear his until they could get some to replace hers.

  He sat back on his knees on the bed and simply stared at her. She was lovely and delicate compared to him. Female to his male. Light to his dark. Before he could begin to make love to her, she scrambled to her knees and faced him. He still towered over her.

  She pressed her hands against his chest and ran her fingertips over his tattoos. “I love these.” She leaned forward and traced her tongue over one of the swirls of his birthmark. He groaned, and his cock, which had been erect when he’d opened his eyes, flexed toward her.

  “I love your hands on me.”

  She glanced down at his erection and smiled. “I can see that.”

  She slipped one of her hands lower, hovering just beside his shaft before finally wrapping her fingers around him.

  Need pounded through his veins. “Abigail.” He said her name, not sure if he wanted her to stop or keep going. She was pushing him close to the edge of his control.

  “Hmm.” The humming sound she made as she examined him more closely made his balls ache.

  She stroked his length with her hand, pumping up and down at an excruciatingly slow pace. Using her tongue, she traced the flared crown of his erection several more times before taking it into her mouth.

  His moaned echoed around the room. He shoved his fingers through her hair and held her to him. She made another humming sound, and it went straight to the base of his shaft and into his balls. He knew he wouldn’t last if she kept that up.

  She released his shaft and stared at it. “It’s amazing to see tattoos covering half of your penis.” The stroke of her fingers over the left side followed her words. “I’m glad it’s a birthmark and didn’t hurt to have done.”

  Her empathy and love made his heart ache and his cock throb. Vasili lost all sense of control. He tumbled her back onto the mattress and dove between her thighs. He needed to pleasure her, to taste her passion, to hear her cry his name before he took her.

  …

  He surprised her with just how fast he could be. She bounced on the mattress, and before she’d fully settled, he was between her legs with his mouth on her sex.

  She cried out, unable to hold back. She loved touching him, tasting him. He liked it, too, but he’d obviously reached his limits. She didn’t mind. There would be time to explore him again. She’d make certain of it.

  His touch electrified her. They’d made love before, and he’d obviously not forgotten what she liked. He licked and sucked at her slick folds before making his way to her clit and taking it between his lips. He flicked the bud with his tongue and then tugged lightly on it.

  Vasili was relentless in the pursuit of her pleasure. Heat radiated from her core. A light sheen of perspiration covered her skin. Still, he held back from giving her the ultimate pleasure.

  “Vasili.” She gripped his hair and tugged, trying to bring him even closer. He retaliated by pushing two thick fingers into her sheath.

  She cried out and arched her hips. Her thighs trembled. It was a wonder that her injury was healed, that there was no pain, only pleasure. Her hands shook. He pulled his fingers almost all the way out and then drove them home again.

  Passion exploded inside her. Her release was powerful and emotional, but it wasn’t enough. She feared it would never be enough. There was still a sense of emptiness inside her.

  “Come to me,” she pleaded. Only he could make her whole.

  He growled and moved up her body, capturing her mouth in a torrid kiss as he slid his cock into her wet core. Yes. This was what she wanted, what she needed.

  She wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. He braced his weight on his forearms and thrust. Together, they flew higher and higher. They were so close when he suddenly stopped.

  Cursing, he rolled onto his back so she was above him. The movement drove his shaft even deeper, and she couldn’t hold back a gasp of pleasure.

  “I want to try something I read about.” His voice was deeper than usual, his tone harsh.

  “What? Like some position from the Kama Sutra?” She was gasping, close to coming even though she’d just had a spectacular orgasm.

  He laughed and then groaned when her sex clutched his shaft. “No.” He closed his eyes for a moment. She wiggled slightly, and they flew open again. “From a drakon text.”

  She stilled. “What exactly?”

  “I want to share my longevity, some of my power with you.”

  She shook her head. This was too much like magic for her peace of mind. She’d seen and felt enough of that to last her a lifetime. “It could weaken you.” That was the last thing she wanted.

  He gripped her hips in his hands and took a deep breath. “Not according to the text.”


  She leaned down, and they both moaned. Talking was difficult when all she wanted to do was ride him until she came. Drakon rider. She couldn’t help giggle.

  “What?” he demanded.

  She waved her hand in front of her and tried to stop giggling but couldn’t stop. “I feel like a drakon rider,” she managed to get out.

  He threw back his head and laughed. When he did, the movement, the vibration, his sheer happiness, pushed her over the edge. She cried out as her orgasm swept through her. He swore, and she felt the flood of his release.

  She fell forward, catching herself on his chest. Heart racing, lungs burning, she stayed there until she calmed down enough to raise her head. He was still hard inside her.

  He shook his head. “What am I to do with you?”

  Love me, she wanted to cry, but she kept the words to herself. His actions spoke louder than words, even though the words would be nice.

  “What was it you wanted to try?” Now that things weren’t quite as tense, she could think more clearly, although she didn’t know how long that would last with his shaft still flexing inside her.

  “It was an ancient text, dating almost back to the time of my birth. I’m not sure, but I believe one of the dragon sires wrote it.”

  “Really?” That was fascinating. She didn’t know much about the dragons who’d sired sons before leaving this world and returning to their own, but from Vasili’s expression, she sensed having anything they’d written was extremely rare. “What did it say?”

  “That when dragons mated, their energy, their essence, melded.”

  “That makes sense for two dragons. But what does it have to do with us?” She wasn’t following his logic.

  “I want to try to share my essence with you.”

  She shook her head, and he frowned.

  “Don’t you want me to?” She could hear the hurt in his voice. That was the last thing she wanted.