by Julia Milla
She felt his nearness before the sound of his boots striking the tile floor registered in her crowded consciousness. The question floated through his mind before he whispered, “Thay thought ye wur dead?” The tips of his fingers touched the scars on the side of her face. “Thay did this tae ye?”
Electricity shot through her body like lightning through the sky. Her nipples pebbled against the soft silk of her bra. Her body warmed and the proof of what Kyran made her feel wet her panties. Clenching her thighs together to stem her excitement, Caitlin fought to speak past the lump in her throat. It took several tries, during which she simply nodded as he continued to trace the lines across her cheek and the bridge of her nose.
The longer he touched her, the more visions of the man whose touch made her feel things she never thought possible invaded her mind. She already knew he was much taller than her five-foot-seven-inch frame, from the downward direction of his voice when he spoke to her. Probably six-foot-five or six was her best guess. It was obvious from the way he’d held her so tightly without pain that he was incredibly strong but possessed the ability of ultimate control. She’d imagined his body in detail but soon found her imagination did his well-toned physique no justice.
From the slightly out of focus and wavy appearance of the memory, Caitlin knew he had been looking at himself in a creek or a lake, some kind of water. His disgust at what he saw had her reaching for him without thought. She smiled to herself when he didn’t back away.
Guess we’re making progress… Good grief he’s gorgeous…
It didn’t matter to her that his dark hair was tangled or matted. Or that cuts, bruises, and scars covered every inch of exposed skin. What mattered was that he had fought every day for more years than she could fathom to simply survive, with the sole purpose of defeating his enemies and saving not only his own kin, but all the shifters the hunters and wizards were using for their heinous experiments.
The grim determination in his dark grey eyes was a testament to his fortitude. The set of his broad shoulders carried the weight of his convictions. The marking of the majestic dragon that covered the expanse of his massive chest and flowed across his six-pack abs mirrored the vision she saw of him actually soaring among the clouds.
“Oh my Goddess,” she gasped, using the image in her head as a map for her fingers to outline the glyphs still raised upon his skin.
“Whit is it?” he grumbled, his fingers halting their progress along her hairline.
“The...these markings. Have you always had them?”
“Na, wis her doin'?” Kyran growled.
Tracing the symbols, the words danced through her mind, filling Caitlin with dread and apprehension. The hair on her arms stood on end and her heart raced. The words were out of her mouth before she could think. “These are killing you!” She slapped her hand against his chest. “And your dragon. They’re draining your magic. We have to get them off you. They have to be destroyed.”
She spun around, reaching for the drawer where she kept her father’s grimoire. Thankfully, Marcie, her nurse who was also an Earth witch, had taken the tome to her coven and had it translated into braille years ago, and Caitlin had been studying the magic of her heritage ever since. Unfortunately, in her exuberance to help Kyran, the banshee forgot her previous steps forward, so instead of laying her hand on the drawer pull, she found herself falling forward. Bracing for impact, Caitlin held her breath and turned her head to the side. Her heart froze in her chest as she murmured loudly, “Please, not another broken nose.”
A masculine chuckle cut through her fear and warm arms wrapped around her waist as she was pulled up against Kyran’s chest and his low snicker rumbled through her rattled nerves. “Na brooken noses th'day. Tis much tae bonny a nose fur that.”
The warmth of his body soaked into hers and for a few brief seconds, Caitlin forgot where she was, who she was, and what she’d been doing. All that mattered was that she never leave the haven of Kyran’s arms. Their hearts beat as one. He held her even closer to his body as she heard his inhale and saw the images of daffodils and sunshine surrounding the picture of her he’d conjured in his mind.
“Aye lass, if oonly…” he breathed into her hair.
Leaning her head back she cooed, “If only what, mo Dragon…”
In the blink of an eye, Caitlin was spinning within Kyran’s embrace and his lips were on hers. He demanded entrance to which she granted immediately. It was as if they were meant to be together. Her soul recognized its other half and joy flooded every fiber of her being.
His tongue slid along hers. Their fiery connection solidified. She felt pieces of herself, her very soul, ones she hadn’t known were missing, slide into place. His thoughts were her thoughts, his feelings her feelings. It was chaotic and explosive and without a doubt wonderful. Caught up in a whirlwind of sensations, Caitlin was pushed out of her comfortable little dark world into a place of abundant light and infinite sound and…miraculous love.
Love?
Her thoughts were confusing but her body knew what it wanted and would not be denied. As Kyran continued to feed at her lips, Caitlin shoved her hands into his long, dark, tangled tresses, holding him to her, never wanting their embrace to end.
Kyran’s hands slid from her waist onto her bum, kneading and squeezing until the proof of her arousal wet her panties and the inside of her thighs. Needing more, wanting all her dragon could give, Caitlin moaned low in her throat as she rolled her hips against the proof of his arousal, pleased when he growled in response.
She could feel the man’s and the beast’s desire building alongside hers. The banshee within her called to that part of Kyran needing to wail for something other than death for the first time in her long life.
Wrapping her legs around his waist as the black dragon lifted her off the ground, Caitlin deepened their kiss. Her fists pulled at his hair. Her tongue danced with his, ran along his teeth, reveled in the taste of the first man she’d ever truly kissed.
Lost to their passion, the banshee moaned at the loss as Kyran tore his lips from hers, gasped for air, and then immediately kissed along her jaw and down her neck while setting her on the counter. His hands quickly slid under the soft cotton of her blouse. The rough callouses of his fingers raised goose bumps on her skin as sparks of their attraction raced through her body.
“Oh, mah banshee, whit ar you doin' ta me?” he groaned while continuing to lavish her neck with his lips and teeth.
Unable to answer, Caitlin could only feel. Kyran’s hands upon her skin, his lips upon her neck…it was all so amazing, so overwhelming, just like all her dreams…only infinitely better. She never wanted it to end. Unfortunately, Fate had another plan, for in the next heartbeat, Duke barked, the doorbell rang, and Kyran used his incredible speed to set her feet on the floor and make long strides toward the door.
“Stop right there,” she shouted at the sound of Kyran’s retreating footsteps, not meaning to sound abrupt but still trying to get her bearings after such an intense experience.
She heard the shuffle of his feet indicating he was turning around before he grumbled, “Ah’ll nae be meetin a'body else this night, Caitlin.”
Holding her hand out in the direction of his voice, she assured, “I understand, but please don’t go.” She knew she was pleading and hated the sign of weakness, but there were so many things she and her illusive black dragon still needed to discuss. It was her greatest fear that he would walk out her door and never return. His kiss had opened her mind and shown her their destiny, the one they were to experience together.
She could feel his indecision. His desire to stay with her battling against his warrior’s need to remain a phantom. As a last ditch effort, she begged, “I promise I’ll make it quick. It’s just Marcie, my nurse. I completely forgot she said she was bringing back the coffee and juice she left at the store earlier today.” Taking a step forward, she asked again, “Will you please stay, Kyran? For me?”
A long-suffering sigh pre
ceded his grumbled response and she imagined him scratching at his bread. “Ah just knoo ye'll be th' death o' me, Caitlin Brookes.”
Not waiting for him to change his mind, the banshee quickly turned, laid her hand on the counter, and called, “Come, Duke. Door,” a second before the doorbell rang again, followed by a loud knock and a hollered, “Caitlin? You okay in there? It’s Marcie.”
Holding onto her furry companion’s collar, she let him lead her to the front door as she answered, “Coming. I was in the kitchen taking supper out of the oven.”
Opening the door, Caitlin tried to smile while listening to make sure Kyran didn’t attempt an escape. “Hey, Marcie.” She reached for the bag she could hear rustling then sighed when her nurse and friend stepped around her, entered her home, and said, “Hey to you. Just dropping off this stuff that I forgot at the grocery. Need any help with dinner?”
Shaking her head, Caitlin stepped back and closed the door before holding out her hands and saying, “No, I’ve got it. I think Duke and I are gonna have a quick sandwich and then make an early evening of it. I’ll take the groceries and you can get on with enjoying the rest of your night off.”
“You sure?” Marcie asked, her tone suspicious.
Faking a yawn, Caitlin sighed, “Yep, it’s been a long day. We’re beat.” Then as an added measure, she fluffed the fur at Duke’s neck and cooed, “Right boy?” To which he yipped.
I love you my big furry hero…
“Well, all right, if you’re sure.” Marcie’s tone was still full of doubt but Caitlin sighed in relief when she heard the door open and her friend continue, “I’ll see you Monday. Have a good weekend. Call if you need me.”
“I sure will,” Caitlin chirped, sounding overly happy even to her own ears.
Reaching for the door, she waved as the heels of Marcie’s shoes struck the concrete path leading to the driveway. At the sound of her nurse’s car door opening, Caitlin smiled and called out, “Be safe. Have a good weekend. Thank you again.”
Waiting until she heard the car start and the roar of the engine disappearing into the distance, Caitlin slammed the door shut, slid the locks into place, turned around, and commanded, “Duke, kitchen.”
Moving as quickly as she could, Caitlin stepped over the threshold of the kitchen just as the cool breeze from outdoors touched her face. She knew he was gone but called his name anyway. “Kyran?”
The dark, sad silence that followed made her heart hurt and forced her to count the steps to her table, plop into the chair, and put her head in her hands. The sound of Duke’s nails clicking against the tile floor echoed in the silence as her one true companion closed the back door her dragon had left open during his hasty retreat before returning to her side.
Letting her hand drop to his neck, she ran her fingers through his fur and asked no one in particular, “Why did he have to leave? Why do they always have to leave me?” Wiping the one tear she allowed to fall from her cheek, the banshee added, “How will I ever tell him that he is my mate if he won’t even stay for dinner?”
Chapter Three
Sitting in the same spot, under the same stupid tree, Kyran watched the woman he now knew to be his mate, looking sad and alone. He could feel her disappointment like a stone in the pit of his stomach. Knew he had caused it. Knew he’d been a coward to leave but was sure he had no other choice.
They were connected now as only mates could be and when he should have been happy, Kyran feared for Caitlin’s safety. The black dragon closed his eyes and sought to control both his temper and his need to go to his banshee. His fists dug into the earth, wet from the dew as he continued to kneel and watch the one whose soul called to his pining for his touch.
Gritting his teeth, he growled to himself, “Whit kind o' sick Universe does such a thing? How cuid ye give a lass whoose lost sae mooch tae mate such as me?”
Caitlin was beautiful inside and out. She had a pure heart and soul that wrapped its warmth around his cold, dead heart and made even his barren soul believe there was a chance for happiness. Why would Fate be so cruel? Why would he, the one they called the Phantom, the dragon able to kill without touch, be shown the one person in all the world created for him. One so perfect she made him ache with need, made him believe in a happily ever after on the other side of all the darkness and death that surrounded him when he was sure to die in his campaign for vengeance.
Pounding his knuckles into the ground, he saw the tear slide down her cheek. His heart seized in his chest as her voice cracked when she spoke to Duke. He fought to breathe as her loneliness and disappointment washed over him. “Aye lass, ye'r better off wi'oot me.”
He sat for hours and watched. Long after she’d turned out the last light, he stood guard, not sure if he was protecting her or putting off the inevitable devastation of leaving her orbit. Finally, when the first rays of dawn peeked over the ridge, Kyran started the sad, lonely journey back to his cave.
One foot in front of the other, counting his slow, even steps, he climbed the trail to the highest ledge and, for the second time in his very long life, watched the waves crash against the rocks contemplating how he’d disappointed the one person in all the world who could save his tortured soul. Hours passed. The sun rose high in the sky, glittering off the water with its fool’s promise that everything would be okay. And even as it scorched his skin, Kyran sat still, staring at the dark water, wondering if perhaps he should simply end it all.
“But ye woud oonly save me if Ah jumpt, wouldn't ye auld laddie?” He spoke aloud to the dragon who shared his soul as he laid his hand over the marking he’d had since birth.
The evil glyphs surrounding his dragon pulsed against his palm as Caitlin’s words echoed through his mind, “These are killing you! And your dragon. They’re draining your magic. We have to get them off.” He remembered the fear in her voice and the determination etched upon her lovely face as she almost fell flat on the floor trying to save him.
One memory flowed into another. He remembered what it felt like to hold her in his arms. His senses filled with her scent and his lips tingled where they had caressed hers. His body ached to return to her, to finish what he’d started, to claim her as his own.
Roaring to the Heavens, Kyran bellowed, “Why? Why urr ye dooin' this tae me? Ye knoo Ah cannae go tae her! Ye knoo Ah cannae hav her!”
His dragon snarled in his head, pawing the ground and blowing smoke, pushing Kyran to return to their mate. Angry and frustrated, the black dragon jumped to his feet and stomped into the cave.
Entering the grotto at the back of the cavern he’d been calling home since leaving his brethren, Kyran shed his clothes and dove into the spring-fed pool in the center of the cave. He let the cool water wash over him, praying to the Heavens that somehow it would wipe away the sins of the past and show him a clear path to a future. A future including his banshee.
Weariness, bone-deep and debilitating, wore at the Phantom until he floated to the edge, slowly lifted himself out, and collapsed, naked and wet, on the sleeping bag he’d liberated from a camper several weeks before. Falling right to sleep, it took mere seconds before pictures of Caitlin filled his dreams. Her eyes, although blind, saw so much more than he ever could. Her touch had the ability to soothe and calm both he and his dragon. Her kiss was like the finest wine, making him long to sip from her luscious lips every moment of every day for the rest of his life.
Her body was perfect with its seductive curves and her skin like satin under his calloused hands. There was no denying she’d been created for him. Caitlin not only enticed him physically, but challenged him mentally, and the strength that flowed through every fiber of her being was as intoxicating as her embrace.
On and on his dreams went, reliving every second of his brief visit with her without provocation or preamble. Then, his visions blurred. His head was spinning. He felt as if he was falling. Kyran felt lost and out of control until, ever so slowly, the images came into focus and the black dragon found himself in ano
ther place…another time. One he’d never visited before but somehow felt that he belonged.
Walking down the sidewalk in a quaint little town, the Phantom watched the inhabitants smile at one another as they went about their daily routines. The sounds of children at play caught his attention, making him stop for just a moment to watch. Moving on, he turned the corner and happened upon two little girls with long dark curls hiding behind a small white playhouse while a young boy, obviously their brother, hid his eyes and counted to twenty.
Smiling at the frivolity of youth, Kyran once again stopped, this time smiling as the little boy yelled, “Ready or not. Here I come,” before running from one hiding place to another, looking for his sisters while hushed giggles floated on the breeze, a signal of the little girls’ giddy anticipation of being found.
It was captivating. The children were so carefree, so full of life, free to do and feel anything they wanted. The expressions on their faces lit up the world around them and the longer Kyran, watched the more compelled he felt to stay.
It only took a few moments for Kyran to realize the youngest girl, the one with bright blue eyes and long curly pony tails, was his Caitlin at the age of seven or eight. Even in her youth, she was a breath of fresh air. It was clear to see why her brother and sister protected her even when playing an ordinary game. She was a treasure to all she touched.
As the air turned cool and the rays of the sun faded into the dark blues and pinks of evening, a woman, looking so like Caitlin there was no denying she was his mate’s mother, called to her children, “Thomas, Bailey, Caitlin, time for dinner. Come in and get washed up.”
The children giggled as they held hands and rushed into the house, eager to obey, excited to share news of their day. Kyran allowed himself a moment to imagine what his own children would look like. Would the girls have long dark curls like Caitlin, with bright blue eyes and porcelain skin, or would they resemble him with deep grey eyes and an olive complexion? Would their little boys look for trouble as he did and always be in search of their next adventure?
