by C. A. Storm
Reluctantly, the tiny woman let the large man lead her off, though she kept her sword at the ready as they disappeared.
I was thankful I wasn’t in a physical body, otherwise I’d probably be blushing furiously at coming across shifters in heat. With a mental chuckle, I turned my attention back toward the west, toward the Sanctuary ahead, and found a huge, muscular dragon-man hovering in my path.
Gleaming white eyes shot through with fiery blue sparks stared unblinkingly at where I was. Powerful wings curled around his shoulders as he held himself perfectly still perched on a thick tree branch, and as my attention turned toward him, his lips twisted into a wide, toothy smile.
“Found you, my mate.”
Chapter 14
Yuki | Shadow Lake, Rocky Mountains, CO | December 6, 2017
Pinned by the supernatural glare of one of the most dangerous creatures to have ever lived, I froze.
Yeah, feel free to laugh. Fate’s obviously cackling like the onibaba she is right now. Twisted bitch!
What do you do, what do you say, when a dragon barely contained within the flesh of a man, is peering at your supposedly invisible and untraceable form, and purring, “Mate?”
You fucking fly! You fly like a dragon is chasing you, even knowing that it’s suicidal to run from a bigger, faster, deadlier predator, because fighting would not only be suicidal, but painfully so.
I flew, pouring every ounce of energy I could into my flight. I spread myself thinner, made myself lighter, than I had ever dared before, and shot like an arrow toward the safety of Sanctuary.
The mother fucker laughed.
Rich, deep, an echoing baritone that sent birds scattering as it boomed like thunder over the valley. Apparently, he was no longer concerned with screening his presence from anyone, much less me.
‘Ah, my glorious mate, what are you? I cannot wait to see if you taste as sweet as you smell’
I shuddered violently, nearly stumbling back into flesh, as his deep voice intimately stroked my mind. Amusement laced his voice, along with a hunger, a desperate yearning for something that frankly terrified me.
I’d been scared before.
I’d learned how to work through the fear, to embrace it, to let the adrenalin strengthen me instead of weaken me.
Even monsters could be scared. It’s a survival instinct. To not feel fear is to embrace idiocy. It’s how you dealt with the fear that defined you.
In this moment, I was fucking terrified.
As swiftly as I flew, I could feel him behind me, keeping pace with me.
Skimming over the dark, glittering depths of the lake, my passage left shards of ice in my wake.
The damn weather was too hot, too warm, even here more than a mile above sea level. If I didn’t know it was December and north of the equator, I’d swear it was fucking spring time.
I needed a high peak, I needed snow and freezing temperatures I could use to strengthen my magic.
There was no fucking snow near me!
Distantly, I could sense the shimmering air that demarcated the boundaries of the Sanctuary. If only I could reach it, I’d be safe. The Leanaí magic that protected Sanctuaries would protect me from the big fucking dragon on my proverbial tail.
Of course, that was when he decided to pounce.
No sooner had we flown through the small town built around the lake and entered the forested hills leading up to the Sanctuary grounds, that the dragon slammed into the ground in front of me.
Before I could even react, he had turned and faced me, spreading his arms and wings wide as if to create a wall, and he flashed a savage, victorious, obnoxiously masculine grin.
“Come to me, my mate,” he roared, and then he pulled.
One with the winds, I was helpless against his pulling as he drew the winds to him. Inexorably, I was yanked by his magic, buffeted by the betraying winds into the vortex surrounding him.
I had one chance.
I embraced flesh.
He embraced me.
Inhumanly powerful arms wrapped around me with surprising tenderness as he curled huge wings around me, shadowing me in the leathery cloak as he tucked me against his massive chest. Huge hands gently curled around my back, pressing me into his unyielding body. This close to him, I could feel his straining muscles trembling, but somehow, I doubted it was from the cold.
My face was crushed against his sharply ridged abdomen, the glossy, thinner scales cool against my skin as he rocked me in his arms. My body reacted instinctively, but not in the way I would have expected.
Instead of struggling, instead of fashioning icy claws to try and tear at him, instead of seeking to draw the heat from his flesh to leave him frozen, my hands splayed over the glossy, glassy scales protecting his torso as his rapid, racing heartbeat filled my ears.
Burying his face in my hair, he breathed deep and released it on a soft, choking cry.
“Finally,” he whispered, his voice husky, broken, as he nuzzled into my hair. “I finally found you.”
Pulling back from me, he slowly released his partial shift. The scales melted away, wisps of steam hissing in the air wreathing his strong body as he tucked his wings away, wherever they went when they weren’t out and looming over me. His large hands slowly stroked down over my shoulders and along my arms, until he had my much smaller hands grasped firmly, securely within his own.
My heart stuttered in my chest, an unfamiliar sensation. It was tight, I was having problems drawing a full breath, and those breaths I did manage to draw in were absolutely saturated with the raw, potent scent of him.
He smelled of winter, all the best parts, like home, clean, crisp, with a hint of cedar and pine, and warmth of wood smoke and the faint smell of sulfur; it was like I stood in the heart of Aokigahara, the Sea of Trees, on the northwestern slopes in the shadow of Mount Fuji.
My eyes were fixed on his bare, smooth abdomen, his flat stomach shadowed by the heavy pectoral muscles, and the play of muscles as they flexed, contracting and swelling hypnotically.
It took his deep laugh to make me realize I had been fascinated by the muscle play.
Jerking my head up, I finally got a good look at his face and I lost my breath. Again.
His eyes were focused on mine, unblinking and intense, a wild shade of brilliant blue unlike any I had ever seen before. I wasn’t even sure they had a name for the that particular shade of blue. His clean-shaven jaw was clenched, his full lips twitching between a smile and a frown as his brow furrowed in concern. His white-blond hair was cut short, almost in a military cut, He was beautiful, but fierce,
“Why are you so afraid, little mate?”
He inhaled deeply, his expression turning fierce as rage suffused his face.
I stiffened, a rabbit knowing the hawk was about to strike, as he leaned in and nuzzled his cheek against mine. A low growl thrummed through his chest, a thunderous echo, as his deep, lilting voice rang through her ear, “Little mate, why do you smell of Enoch filth?”
Okay, the caveman thing was getting old quick.
Slapping my hands against his stone-hard chest—and I think I bruised my hands more than I bruised his flesh—I pushed myself back out of his arms to glare up at him.
“Look, I don’t know just who you think you are,” I began, only for the smug bastard to interrupt me.
“I am Vilhelm Vindorm,” he said, flashing me that wide grin. “I am your mate.”
Yanking a hand from his firm grasp, I was quickly reminded just how solidly firm and unyielding his inhumanly broad, inhumanly solid chest was when I stubbed my finger. Damn, the man was firm, even without being covered by scales!
“I’m Yuki, and I’m not your mate,” I retorted.
He canted his head to one side, still pinning me with those unblinking eyes. Without saying a word, he reached out and lightly rested the tip of his finger at the top of the…fucking dragon-covered bustier I was still wearing beneath my leather jacket…where the exposed expanse of my chest pulsed with th
e glowing symbol.
The moment his calloused fingertip grazed my flesh, I gasped as an electric jolt pulsed through my body. One that I heard echoed by him as his entire body went tense. Before my very eyes, over his heart and spreading to cover the entire left side of his thick pectoral, a pattern of frost created an intricate network of swirling waves, all emanating from a single symbol—one identical to the one glowing on my chest.
Was that my finger delicately, hesitantly tracing the symbol, the one with the kanji for snow?
It was surreal. I was standing in the middle of a clearing in the Colorado Rockies, with a dragon’s finger lightly resting on my chest while I rested a finger on his. He was easily three times my size, and that was both of us wearing flesh, looking human; and he thought I was his mate.
Yuki-onna don’t have mates. No woman in my Clan had ever taken a mate.
Then again, none of them had a dragon claiming to be their mate.
I knew I was in shock. I was numb, my brain struggling to catch up, but even if only to myself, I had to admit, my body was far too ready and willing to claim the dragon standing still before me.
Suddenly, I was yanked from my feet and thrust behind a broad back as Vilhelm Vindorm moved with shocking speed.
“SHOW YOURSELF!” The dragon’s roar exploded in the valley as he spread his wings, shielding me from whatever it was that he sensed.
What had I missed now? Fuck, why was I so off my game since stepping foot into America? I’m telling you, my Wicked Stepmother cursed me. This was all some massive set-up for me to die horribly, far from home.
Fuck my life. Reaching into my pocket, I wrapped my fingers around Masa’s medallion, just to be on the safe side.
❆❅❆
Vilhelm | Shadow Lake, Rocky Mountains, CO | December 6, 2017
Her scent wasn’t only in the wind, my mate was the wind.
I realized she was close by when I had relaxed, letting some of my true self emerge from the prison of humanity. Pretending to be a human, locking myself into a small, fragile body, limited my senses unless I released the tight control it took to maintain that form. After many, many centuries, it had been second nature, and since I had awoken, circumstances required I spend more time than not in this human body, but I was dragon.
I followed her, and was amused to discover she seemed to be heading for the same place I was currently making my lair, towards the Leanaí’s Sanctuary. Apparently, Fate had decided to give me a helping hand by drawing my mate toward me.
When she veered through the forest, moving from the highway in a straight shot toward the Estates, I wondered if she sensed me as I sensed her, just as I wondered what she could possibly be.
Obviously not human, and given that she was capable of transforming into the wind, she was not a shifter—their magics tended to be more physical, and while they were intimately tied to the elements, I was unaware of any that could become an element. She was not a phantom or spectre, at least I hoped not, as they were rarely able to physically manifest, and that would be inconvenient.
When she crossed over into the pack territory, I drew my cloaking magic tighter around me as I felt the wards testing my intentions. The magic was old, powerful, and familiar, and as I spotted the distinctive runespells carved into the trees, I smirked. Ulfhednar, here in Colorado. I really shouldn’t be surprised. They were amongst the first of the European shifters to head across the Atlantic, and a small pack of the Ulfhednar owned property near my lair in Iceland.
If I didn’t know better, I’d swear those wolves had rabbit in their DNA as swiftly as they seemed to procreate.
She paused in her flight, and I alighted upon a sturdy branch, above where I sensed her, and watched.
A shewolf wielding a sword burst into the clearing, followed by a male wolf, both in their human forms. They could probably faintly scent my mate, but I doubted they would sense her. She must have triggered the wards as to her presence, but as she was not another wolf, nor did she seem to be a threat to them, the magic the wolves used to mark territories—which was primarily meant to keep the Unaware away—merely let them know there were possible intruders.
I felt the moment her awareness noticed me, so I dropped my illusion so she could see me.
I grinned.
Before I could call out to her, she fled, swifter than before.
The deepest, darkest instincts that drove me to claim my mate filled my chest and I had to laugh with the sheer pleasure of the hunt.
It had been far too long since I had a proper hunt, and this one was the most important of my life.
I paced her, easily, reaching out with my mind to give her fair warning, to see if I could get her to talk to me.
She was afraid, but determined.
I couldn’t wait to see what she looked like.
I let her put distance between us and the pack’s territory, following her as she skimmed over a lake. When she soared through the village, I once more wrapped myself in the magic that would prevent humans from spotting me. This time, it had nothing to do with Audrick’s dictates I be polite. Instead, it was because I didn’t wish for anything to deter me from claiming my mate.
Finally, we were far from prying eyes.
Impatient to finally see my mate, I surged forward and planted myself in her path. Closing my eyes, I reached out and called upon my element, called upon the winds, drawing them—and her—to me.
I was a dragon of winter storms, of blizzards and the Northern winds, thunder and lightning. She was of my element, of my magic, as long as she was one with the winds.
“Come to me, my mate!”
I tried to make it a command, but from the pounding, desperate beating of my heart, even I must admit it probably came out more as a plea.
One she answered.
Tiny, even for a human, she emerged from the winds ready for a fight. She was exquisite. Long hair, black as the darkest of nights, lashed about her as the winds toyed with the heavy, thick tresses. Large, upswept eyes bled from a pale, icy blue into a deep, rich ebony, narrowing on me in anger at being chased, at being summoned.
Maybe I shouldn’t have used my magic, but I was desperate for her.
Reaching out, I grabbed her to me, wrapping myself protectively around her and burying my head in her hair, inhaling her scent.
Her.
My mate.
Unfamiliar prickles burned my human eyes.
“Finally. I have finally found you.”
Dragons were solitary creatures, but not by choice. We craved companionship, craved family, but we had been hunted to near extinction for the magic in our bodies, slaughtered by the Enoch in their quest to claim this world and purge it of “monsters” such as us.
Feeling her shivering in my arms, and not from the cold, I reluctantly pulled back my draconic nature, returning to my fleshy prison as I leaned back to look down into her eyes.
It took her a few moments before she would meet my eyes. Not many could meet the gaze of a dragon, or hold it for long. When I realized that she hadn’t met my gaze yet because she was fascinated by my human body, I laughed, pleased that she enjoyed this form I wore.
Her eyes jerked up and she glared fearlessly into my eyes. In that moment, she reached out and wrapped her hand firmly around my heart, and she didn’t even realize it. Yet, she still trembled. Surely, it was not I who was scaring her. She would know I was unable to harm her.
“Why are you so afraid, my little mate?” I asked. I would destroy the world to rid her of whatever it was that threatened her.
I drew in a deep, searching breath, trying to see if I could taste what was causing her fear. That’s when I recognized a particular sharp stench, one that lingered on her flesh. Rage filled me. They had dared to touch my mate? Did they know she was my mate? How had they found her before I had?
“Little mate, why do you smell of Enoch filth?”
She was stubborn. I knew that from the tilt of her chin. She was going to claim that she was not
my mate, unable to see what I so clearly did. She was even wearing clothing that had silver dragons printed on the fabric! Granted, they were based on the dragon families that had claimed the Eastern lands long ago, but as they were distant relations, I would just make sure that any of her clothing had pictures of me in my dragon form on them instead.
I was much more attractive as a dragon than those maned snakes anyways.
I mean, they don’t even have wings. What kind of dragon didn’t have wings?
Yes, I would show her my glorious dragon form, and we would get suitable attire for my little mate to wear, so she could display her ownership of me properly.
“Look, I don’t know just who you think you are,” she began, and I realized I had been rude.
“I am Vilhelm Vindorm,” I volunteered, grinning widely as I caught her eyes once more traveling over my body. I flexed, puffing out my chest so she could see just how good a specimen I was, even in human flesh.
“I’m Yuki, and I’m not your mate,” she huffed, yanking her small hand from mine so she could poke my chest.
I regarded her intently. Did she not realize? Fate had blessed us, but maybe she could not sense it.
I reached forward and gently placed my finger over her heart, biting back a groan as I felt the surge of mystical energy spark beneath her flesh. Oh yes, she was mine. I could feel the metaphysical threads binding us together already.
When she placed her hand on my chest, I threw my head back and groaned aloud as my flesh turned icy beneath her palm. Dragons burned hotly, even one such as I, who dwelled in the arctic north. My scales kept me cool, but her cool hand on my flesh sent a blast of ecstasy through my body.
My cock swelled eagerly, desperate for that same touch, to be buried within her body as I claimed her repeatedly, completing our bond and joining our souls.
Of course, that’s when we were rudely interrupted.
I sensed them approaching, despite their attempts to stay hidden. With my mate so close, my senses were on alert with the need to guard my most precious treasure.
