by Ines Johnson
Claim her, demanded his beast. Its leash slipped through Corun’s sweaty palm.
“Leave us,” said Corun.
His brothers obeyed without question. Elek blended back into the shadows and was gone. Rhoyl flapped away from the window and into the night. Beryl had a little trouble hopping back up to his feet. Ilia offered his hand, which Beryl promptly smacked away. Weakness was not a prized trait in this household.
Corun had proved himself strongest. He’d won all rights to her. This woman, his sacrifice, his mate.
No. Not his mate. He’d marked her, but he had no plans to claim her. Bedding her would seal her fate and start the clock ticking toward her death. He might be a beast, but he wasn’t a monster.
Corun left the door of the bedroom open. He didn’t worry that his brothers might overhear the conversation he was about to have. His sole concern was for her. He wanted her to feel that she wasn’t trapped. Lie that it might be. He wouldn’t be the one to sign her death warrant, she would never leave this place alive. His dragon would never allow it.
Shame was a pain in his gut. Or maybe that was the sharp kick he’d taken from Beryl’s clawed foot earlier. Corun hadn’t bothered to heal himself yet. He wanted the dragon to feel that pain of what he’d done.
She moaned again. This time her eyes parted along with her lips. She was so small in his bed. She looked helpless. But he knew better. She’d fought back. Even though it was pointless, even though she couldn’t have possibly won, she’d fought.
Pride washed over him at his little human. Perhaps she might survive for a time. Like Elek’s mother. Perhaps her mind might even stay intact.
Her eyes flashed at him as recognition dawned. “You said you’d let me go.”
“I tried.”
“Yeah, right,” she huffed, sitting up in the bed. “Instead, you fed me to the monsters. And you bit me.”
Her hands covered the damaged skin at her neck. Inside, Corun’s beast panted. His incisors wet, aching to taste his handiwork.
“No,” he said. “I marked you.”
The wound looked like it wasn’t fully healed. He needed to run his tongue over it again. Only to heal her. Not for the pleasure of it.
Corun put one knee on the bed. It dipped under his weight. He reached out toward her.
She leaned in at his approach. Her breasts rose as she took a deep inhale. Corun held still as she came closer to him. She drew back her arm … and punched him in the nose.
Red washed over his vision as the dragon peeked out. Her assault hadn’t hurt. It had startled him. Enough so, that the dragon slipped its leash.
The beast was on her. Over her. Pressing her down into the mattress.
He felt her heart racing beneath his palm. Her breath came out in tiny pants. The dragon licked his lips at the taste of the sweet air she puffed out against his mouth.
All he had to do was lean in, brush his tongue over her lips, and he’d taste her. Then he’d claim her. Making her his in every sense of the word, and signing her death warrant.
Chapter Eight
What was she thinking? She’d just struck a man who could turn into a dragon. True, she hadn’t seen him turn into a monster. But she’d watched the other men do it. Right before they did, one’s eyes had glowed like a jade gemstone, the other green like an emerald. Her sexy captor’s eyes were glowing now, a bright red like the rubies inside the mountain. It had probably been his lair.
“Don’t do that again,” he warned, his eyes brighter than fire. “Dragons like violence.”
“You’re a monster,” she whispered.
“Yes,” he agreed. “And now you’re mine.”
Chryssie scrambled back, but there was nowhere to run. Behind her was a massive headboard. In front of her was over two-hundred pounds of sexy as hell monster.
No. Not sexy. Just a monster. He was a monster. A monster who had bitten her, for God’s sake.
“Tell me your name,” he said. His voice was a deep, throaty growl. More beast than man.
“Chrysanthemum.”
“Like the flower?” His face split into a wide grin that she was sure would devour her. “I am Corun.”
“Sorry, but I can’t honestly say it’s nice to meet you.” She hoped sarcasm translated to dragon.
Corun’s grin flattened into a thin line. “Hold still.”
He reached out for her. His large paw gripped her shoulder.
“No.” She squirmed to get out of his hold.
“You’re bleeding. Hold still.”
“So you can take another bite out of me.”
“I had to do that, or one of my brothers would’ve claimed you.”
“So, you’re trying to tell me you saved me by taking a bite out of me?” Sarcasm dripped from her voice. She continued to twist and contort her body, but it was no use. His hold was absolute. He was going to do whatever he wanted with her.
“I hurt you,” Corun said. “And for that, I am eternally sorry.”
An apology? That was unexpected. Some of the fight went out of her as she peered at him. There was such sadness in his voice, such shame. What was this? Was she going all Stockholm Syndrome already?
“There is a beast that lives inside of me,” he continued. “One lives inside of every man in this realm. They’re very hard to control, especially around unclaimed women. That’s why its best you keep still.”
“Is that why you tied me up earlier?”
“I was fooling myself to think I could let you go.” Corun eyed the marks on her wrist left by the bindings. His gaze turned a shade of red as he stared at the intricate marks. “I can never let you go. You’re mine now.”
Chryssie pulled her hands to her chest. It was a defensive move. Her voice, when she spoke, was hard as flintstone. “Don’t say that.”
Corun frowned, his eyes going a darker shade of red. “It’s true.”
“Those words are never true. You’ll send me away like all the rest of them.”
He scrunched up his nose like a dog who didn’t understand its human’s command. His focus shifted to her neck.
Chryssie put a hand to the spot where he stared. Her fingers came away with blood. It must have happened when he’d grabbed her and tossed her down on the bed.
“Let me heal you?” he said.
“You can’t heal me. I’m dead. I’m in Hell.”
His thumb brushed at the trickle running down her neck. Swift as a vulture, spotting weakened prey, he was on her. She gasped as his tongue met her skin.
Corun licked up the column of her neck. Chryssie pressed a hand to his massive chest, but she didn’t push him away. There had been very few hugs in her life after her mother and sister passed and she’d entered the foster care system. There definitely had never been anyone who had pressed their lips to her body.
When Corun crossed to the mark he’d made at her neck, she no longer protested. Her hands rested on his chest instead of pretending to push him away. She felt his heart beating against her palm. Absently, she wondered why it was pumping life if they were dead? It was the only thought that formed as he cradled her gently like she was something precious.
He formed his lips around his mark. Then he slid his tongue over her ruined skin. Back and forth he went over the bruise he’d made. With each stroke of his tongue, she felt the skin tugging, as though it were reknitting itself under his attentions.
His lips lingered there for moments after the skin stopped the tug of threading itself back together. He pressed his forehead to hers and shared her breath. Chryssie had the urge to tilt her head back and taste his lips. But she missed her moment when he started speaking again.
“You’re not dead, and trust me, this isn’t Hell. You are beyond the Veil. I believe humans call it the Garden of Eden.”
Corun pulled away from her then, and she felt bereft without his close presence. She braced herself. He was going to leave her now. Just like they all did.
Instead, he took her injured hand in his; the one whe
re she’d accidentally sliced into her skin with the knife he’d given her. Corun brought her hand to his mouth slowly. Her breath hitched when his lips met the jagged skin there. Between licks, he continued to explain.
“This place is the Goddess’ laboratory. The place where She once fiddled with creation. She prefers to be in the core of the earth these days. We are Her discarded biological experiments.”
“Experiments?” Her voice came out breathy as she watched him suckle at her skin.
“First came aquatic life in the primordial sea.” He licked up to the tip of her uninjured pinky finger. “Then plants sprouted on the earth.” He licked up to the top of her uninjured ring finger. “Followed by the reptiles who walked out of the sea. You might know my kind as the dinosaurs.”
Dinosaurs? Was he serious?
“Then She tried with lions, bears, and wolves.”
“There are bear men?” asked Chryssie. “Like Big Foot?”
“Bear shifters don’t like it when you call them that.”
Noted. She wasn’t dead. She was in some parallel world filled with animals who could turn into men. Or men who could turn into animals. “What about women?”
“She made the men but not the women.”
“Oh. So, no Eve?”
“Our ribs are all intact. That’s why you’re here. A shifter can barely control their inner beast. Except when he has a female.”
Corun kissed each of her fingertips in turn. His gaze held hers as he did so. His eyes were ruby red. Chryssie saw herself reflected in his sparkling gaze. She almost didn’t recognize herself.
In his eyes, her lips were parted. Her nostrils flared. Her eyes were big, as though she’d finally found the cure to her incurable disease and was ready to live her life.
“You said I was your mate?” said Chryssie.
He nodded.
“You’re going to turn me into a dragon?”
“No.” He reared back.
“Oh, I get it. You’re going to get me pregnant to have your baby dragons. Your hatchlings.”
His jaw went tense, and he looked away. Whether out of desire or shame, she wasn’t sure. She hoped it was desire. She’d never had a man interested in her. It was just her luck that the first man to have the hots for her harbored a man-eating monster inside him and wanted to put one inside her.
“As much as I find you attractive,” she said, “I’m afraid I can’t help you. I can’t have children. I have a rare disease, one I won’t pass onto children, even if I could have them.”
“Human disease doesn’t exist in the Veil.”
Chryssie took another deep inhale. She thought back to the punch she’d delivered to his nose a moment ago. Her hand wasn’t even hurting. Heck, she’d been bit, and she hadn’t felt any real pain.
“Wait? So, you mean I’m completely cured?”
Corun nodded.
“Let me get this straight. I get to stay here, alive, with no illness? I won’t be weak or tired or sick?”
“Correct.”
Chryssie came to her knees. Then she stood on the bed. She jumped once, then twice. On the third jump, she threw out her legs and flung herself back on the plush mattress, laughing all the way.
She was cured. She would live. And not in Hell. But as the mate to a sexy dragon shifter who wanted to get her pregnant with a baby who wouldn’t be sick either. She’d just won the lottery, and she was ready to collect on her payment.
Corun loomed over her. His eyes had lost their shade of red and were once again a liquid brown like coffee. She was looking at the man. The man looked concerned, not happy.
“I don’t think you understand the predicament that you’re in, Chrysanthemum.”
“No, I think I get it. Not only do I get to lose my V card with you—”
“V card?”
“But there will be no sickness, lots of sex, and a baby I never thought I’d get to have.”
Corun’s eyes flashed red, but only for an instance. His throat worked as he gulped down something that appeared hard to swallow. “I’m afraid you don’t understand the full scope. There is a, what do you call it, catch. Few women survive the delivery. There’s a very good chance you will die.”
Of course, there was a catch. There always was with any medicine doctors had shoved down her throat in an effort to cure her. She’d stopped taking medications months ago when she’d accepted her death and planned how she would go out on her own terms.
Chryssie sat up now. She filled her gaze with the dragon who had truly saved her. She reached out and ran a hand down his jaw.
Corun jerked from her touch at first. Then he leaned into her palm. His eyes closed, and she felt a low grumble roll up his throat as she brushed her thumb over his cheek.
She’d never touched a man. The feel of this one positively thrilled her. She couldn’t wait to touch more of him.
“Death doesn’t scare me,” she said. “I was born a sacrifice.”
“Born a sacrifice?”
“I was supposed to save my sister, but I failed. I’ve been sick and alone nearly all my life. The only thing I’ve ever wanted was to determine how and when I’d die, on my own terms. I was going to go out in a vengeful blaze of glory this morning before getting killed or abducted or whatever.”
“A Valkyrie brought you to me.”
“Yeah, that kick-ass chick in the leather corset. Dying in a battle with her would’ve been cool. But going out after having lots of sex with you and then birthing baby dragons? Hell, that sounds like an awesome way to make an exit.”
Corun’s eyes blinked once, twice. Then they stayed open for a full minute. The red glow in his eyes dimming quickly. “Wait—”
“We don’t have to wait.” Chryssie flopped back on the bed. “We can go at it now.”
His breathing came in harsh pants. That wasn’t desire in his gaze, it was abject horror. He backpedaled off the bed, falling down on his ass. He stood and was out the door before she could even call out to him.
She’d failed at her role of savior for her sister. She’d failed at being a kickass heroine to avenge her family. And now she’d failed at playing seductress to a hard-up dragon shifter.
She was having an awful day.
Chapter Nine
“Give me another." Corun barely lifted his head as he spoke, as he barked the command.
The bartender hopped into action to get Corun his drink. Partly because Corun was an apex predator, and the bartender was a sprite. Mostly because every being in the realm coveted the gems in the dragons’ mountain.
God’s Teet was filled to the rafters tonight. Many creatures stood at the opposite end of the bar, shouting their drink orders. Corun hadn't raised his voice much above a whisper. He didn't have to. He was a dragon. All would crane their necks to get out of his way or put whatever he wanted in his path.
Since time untold, his kind had terrorized the skies, stomped across the lands, and left all living in this lush valley wary of their very existence. Corun now understood the root cause of that terrorism. Dragons across the ages had all been suffering from a collective case of blue balls.
Corun slammed his hand down on the counter. The fae beside him lost a few of its petals. The bartender sloshed Corun’s drink in his haste to get it to him faster.
Corun opened his mouth to apologize to the sprite, but the words felt like too much effort. All around, he received wary glances from other creatures inside the establishment. But he couldn’t very well point to his swollen crotch in explanation of his foul temper.
He hated that they judged him by the steam coming out of his nose and not the contents of his character. They would never know that he was intelligent and liked flowers, not just the two-legged kind. They likely assumed he spent his days underground mining and hoarding his treasure while sipping nectar from between fairies’ thighs at night.
They were right for the most part. About his days. Not his nights.
Corun wasn't naturally violent. Except when it ca
me to anyone getting near his treasure. Which no one here would dare do. Which led him back to his original argument, that he was misunderstood.
The bartender slid a mug of steaming ale down the tabletop while keeping his distance. Like the last four, Corun gulped the hot spirit down. It burned his throat, dousing his beast with liquid fire. It wasn't enough to cool the dragon's ardor. Not after his mate’s words.
We don’t have to wait. We can go at it now.
Corun hadn’t been able to back out of the room fast enough. She wanted him. He hadn't seen that coming. Not in a thousand years. No sacrifice had ever wanted her fate. Well, except for Cardi. But she was a special circumstance.
“Looking to wet your wick with some honey tonight? Or do you want to make it interesting?”
Corun sighed into his empty glass. He sorely missed the solitude he’d been bemoaning just a moment ago.
A golden-haired woman slipped into the seat next to him. Her hair took up much of the breathing space. It was a wild mane with looping curls that were as wide as a bush. Her body was broader than a woman’s body should be, but that didn’t detract from the curves of her large form. There were wrinkles around her blue eyes and sneering mouth, but that didn’t detract from her ageless beauty.
Leona was a beautiful woman, and it wasn’t the first time she’d propositioned him. Corun understood her needs. She, too, was the last of her kind.
“I can’t,” he grumbled. “I’m no longer on the market.”
Her shrewd gaze narrowed. “I wasn’t talking about fucking. I was talking about fighting.”
“Fighting? You?” Corun reared back in horror.
Leona was strong and could hold her own, but she was still female, and he would never.
“No, scales for brains. Not me. One of my cubs.”
Corun glanced to the back of the bar where three of her litter entertained a bouquet of colorful fairies. The lion shifters couldn’t be called cubs. They were all full-grown, burly males with their own thick manes of golden locks. But don’t tell their mother that.
Unlike with dragons, the Goddess had made lionesses. But those female births were rare. It took a strong man to tame one. Corun had never seen Leona’s mate. He always wondered if she’d eaten the poor bastard and fed him to her sons.
