by Lauren Smith
He remembered his meeting with her, the attraction he’d felt because of her scent, despite his true mate being right there with him. It wasn’t natural.
Of course. It wasn’t natural. The Brotherhood must have found a way to manipulate a shifter’s senses. It could be she wasn’t a true mate at all but somehow was made to seem like one. Pheromones, perhaps? And she had been sent to bond with Rurik, tie his life with hers. He could already see how this would put them in a position of power over the Barinovs.
This could destroy them all.
“How do you know this, Drakor? Are you spying on us?” he asked, his voice deadly calm.
“I stay in Moscow on occasion, as per our treaty. And I see things. I keep track of the Brotherhood, which it seems you do not.” Normally, this chastisement would have enraged Grigori, but he was right, and the fear for his own mate and unborn child was too strong.
“You must stop her, Barinov. You know that as well as I do. If there’s only one thing we could ever agree upon, it’s that the Brotherhood of the Blood Moon is our enemy.”
That much was true, Grigori had to admit.
“I assume you’re leaving Moscow?”
“Of course. I’m going home, back to my lands. If I am to die, I wish to be on my own soil when it happens. Take care, Barinov.” Drakor hung up.
“What did he say?” Madelyn demanded, her voice breathless.
“Charlotte is not what she seems to be. She lied to us.”
“Lied?”
“She is a hunter for the Brotherhood.” He stared deep into her eyes, his every nightmare reflected in them.
“Are you sure? Can you trust Drakor? He tried to kill me.”
Grigori looked away. “That I will never forget, but…” How could he explain it to her? That some things were deeper than hate? Shifters lived long lives and did not easily forget past transgressions. The Brotherhood could not be trusted.
“But what?”
“Our families have stood against the Brotherhood for centuries. He wouldn’t make this up.”
Madelyn’s gaze was serious. “So then we assume for now that he’s telling the truth,” she replied slowly. “What’s next? Do we need to confront Charlotte?”
“Talk?” Grigori scoffed. “She plans to ensnare Rurik in her web, and he doesn’t even have a clue.”
“To what end?”
“I don’t know,” Grigori admitted. “If he were to bond with her, then she would effectively hold his life in her hands. Our entire family might be held to ransom or be forced to fight for their causes. And we would dare not retaliate. There are many possibilities, and none of them are good.”
“Oh God, Grigori, we have to stop her!”
“I will stop her. You must stay here.” He touched her belly, his heart breaking.
“But—”
“Madelyn, I won’t let you go anywhere near the Brotherhood. I need you to stay here and call Mikhail. Tell him everything. If something happens to me, you must immediately go with Mikhail and Piper.”
“If you die, then I die anyway,” Madelyn countered.
“Perhaps not. We do not know if the bond will work the same way between us. And it’s possible that your love for our unborn child could keep you alive. Regardless, there are fates other than death that might await me. I won’t have you put yourself at the same risk.”
Grigori dialed Rurik’s number, but it went straight to voicemail.
“Rurik, pick up your damn phone! Where are you?” He hung up and came back to Madelyn, catching her in his arms.
“My heart,” he whispered against her lips. “I love you with all that I am. Please don’t forget that.”
He knew she was feeling his fears. They had known the joy of love so short a time. It was unfair that they had only been together a few months. Grigori didn’t let himself finish the thought of what would happen if he couldn’t come home. It was too dark, too awful.
“Stay safe. Let Mikhail and Piper protect you and the baby.”
Before he could stop himself, he left her, his heart still aching. He had to find Rurik and save his family. He only prayed he wasn’t too late.
10
I have been mortal, and some part of me is mortal yet. I am full of tears and hunger and the fear of death, although I cannot weep, and I want nothing, and I cannot die. ―Peter S. Beagle, The Last Unicorn
Charlotte didn’t protest as Rurik took her into the lobby of the Grand Hotel Europe. She had to trust that he wouldn’t hurt her after everything they’d been through.
He wouldn’t, would he?
He took her straight to the front desk and spoke to the hotel steward in rapid Russian, then slid the man a black credit card. The steward’s eyes widened as he took the card, then hastily prepared a set of keycards, handing them to Rurik.
“Come,” Rurik growled, his grip on her wrist still tight as they headed to the elevators.
“Rurik, please…” she begged as the elevator doors closed, sealing them in. “If you would just listen—”
“Not now.”
How different this was from the other night. Then she had been safe, the secret she kept still a secret. Now he was taking her up to a hotel room to interrogate her.
They stopped on the third floor. He led her down the hall, where he used his keycard to open the door. He shoved her through and closed the door behind him, then raised a hand to point at the bed.
“Take off your coat and sit down. Now.”
Something about the way Rurik spoke to her in that dominating and dark way made her rush to obey. She was afraid. The Rurik she was falling in love with wouldn’t hurt her, but this Rurik, the one who feared the Brotherhood? He might be capable of killing her to protect his brothers and their mates.
Breathe, Charlotte, just breathe. You have to stay calm so you can think this through.
She turned away from him, taking in the splendor of the room as she shrugged out of her coat. Her hands shook as she set it down over the back of a chair. The dark green brocade walls made the room feel warm, like she was stepping into a summer forest. The table and bed were carved from antique cherrywood. Everything about the suite murmured of money in the best way. The large sitting room had two wide windows with white curtains that allowed sunlight to softly filter into the room. A gilded chandelier hung above the table, where an old ivory chess set sat. There was even a bar with a trio of full decanters and glasses. It was a beautiful room to face an angry dragon in, and it had to cost a fortune to stay in. A massive king-size bed with a green satin coverlet embroidered with gold thread was in the adjoining room.
A pang of regret hit her. This could have been a wonderful room to lose herself in Rurik’s arms, to give herself to him entirely, but now that would never happen.
Charlotte set her purse down on a table, her legs trembling. Rurik flipped the lock on the door, set the keycard down, and walked over to the curtains, tugging them closed. He removed his jacket and laid it over the back of the nearest chair. Charlotte watched his muscles flex beneath the black sweater he wore as he faced her, his arms crossed.
“What am I going to do with you?” he growled. There was a strange mixture of cool distrust and a simmering heat behind his words.
“Please don’t hurt me,” Charlotte begged as she retreated into the adjoining bedroom. They’d been so connected before. Every time they’d kissed she’d seen a part of his soul through his memories. The man she’d seen didn’t seem like someone who would kill a woman, but she was the enemy. What reason did he have to trust her? She didn’t want to die here, so far away from the only family she had left.
Rurik walked up to her. She tensed as he cupped her chin, forcing her head back as he stared down at her.
“Hurt you? I would never hurt you,” he growled. “But I do not trust you either. How do you know what I am?”
“I’ve studied you,” she admitted. “We have files…”
“So you are a hunter!” His tone deepened, and his eyes began to
swirl that beautiful shade of gold.
“No! I’m a biochemist!” Her temper flared, temporarily dispelling her fear.
“Hmmm.” He made a noise of disgruntled disbelief. For some reason that pissed her off. She hadn’t lied, not about that. She smacked his hand away from her chin and pushed him hard in the chest. He didn’t budge, the damn muscled bastard, but his nostrils flared.
“If I was a hunter, do you think I would have ended up in this position?” She waved a hand between them.
Rurik arched a brow, coolly meeting her glare. “What do you mean?”
She blushed as she realized what she’d said. “Nothing.” She turned away from him and stalked away.
“Oh, you mean how you can’t resist me?” He stepped up close behind her, his hands settling on her waist. Charlotte jerked free of his hold.
“I can resist you just fine,” she muttered, but the words were a lie.
“You are not the first woman the Brotherhood has sent to try to seduce me, you know,” Rurik said. “They all wanted to end up alone with me. But I could smell their intentions a mile off.”
“What I mean is that I wouldn’t have admitted my connection with them to your face. And I certainly wouldn’t have ended up here, defenseless in a hotel room with you. If I was a hunter, I would have probably had a backup plan to incapacitate you so I could escape.”
Rurik crossed his arms over his chest, a smile curving his lips. “Finally, you’re telling the truth.”
“What?”
“That you’re not a hunter—I didn’t believe it until just now.” He was still grinning, but there was a flash of surprise in his eyes.
She stilled, studying him. “Why do you believe me now? What did I do?” She’d been snapping at him, and now he was claiming he believed her?
“It’s not what you did—it’s what you said.”
She tilted her head slightly. “What I said?” What had she said? She’d been rambling and frustrated.
“You’d incapacitate me and escape. A hunter would never escape. A hunter would have tried to take me down, capture me. A hunter would probably even kill me if they thought it necessary. But escape? That is something a hunter wouldn’t think about. They’re fighters. You’re not fighting me. You came quietly.”
“Oh…” She whispered the word, realizing he was right. And it seemed her brothers were right after all. She wasn’t cut out to be a hunter. She’d already failed by being discovered. Hell, she’d confessed who she really was without him even interrogating her.
She placed a palm over her belly. Knots of worry built inside her, making her sick. “I need to sit down.” She fell back onto the bed and tried to still her heart, which was beating hard enough to bruise her chest. Rurik approached her, towering over her as he reached her at the foot of the bed, and she lifted her gaze to his face. He reached up, hesitant this time as he cupped her chin.
“You aren’t a hunter, and you haven’t attacked me. You know the truth about me, and it is a dangerous truth.” He brushed the pad of his thumb over her lips. “Tell me, little rose, what do you really know of dragons?”
She shivered at his intimate caress, feeling an ache deep inside because he wasn’t touching her out of desire, but to invoke fear.
“You are immortal, but you can be killed. You’re susceptible to iron, but only if it is pure. You hoard gemstones and precious metals, and you can transform almost instantly. You can use pheromones and other means to hypnotize and influence people, especially those of the opposite sex.”
“Pheromones?” He suddenly laughed at this. “Oh really? So if I were to kiss you, you would spill all of your secrets? Even the darkest ones?” His green eyes grew warm, and she was lost in their color for a long moment.
“I guess. I don’t know…” She trailed off. The Brotherhood’s reports on that particular factor had been vague, at least in the reports she’d had access to. Information was a weapon, and the Brotherhood kept it under tight lock and key to all but those who needed it.
“Let us test this little theory…” He leaned down and captured her mouth with his. He cupped the back of her neck, holding her captive for his ravaging lips. It wasn’t a tender kiss—it was a conquering one, yet it wasn’t violent. She whimpered, swept away by how conflicted he made her feel. Every cell in her body was humming with a languid and slowly building fervor that would explode if he continued.
“You’re sure you aren’t a hunter?” he asked between kisses.
“No, I’m a biochemist. They would never let me join the Brotherhood.” She sighed as he kissed her again and then gasped as he lifted her up and placed her farther back on the bed. Then he lay on top of her, kissing her again, and all shock faded beneath the pleasure of what his lips could do.
“Do you wish to hurt me or my family?” he asked. His hands lifted her sweater. The heat of his body burned her, not letting her feel the cold kiss of air on her bare skin.
“Hurt you?” she echoed dreamily as he kissed her collarbone, working his way down to the slopes of her breasts, which were covered by her black bra.
“Yes, do you want to hurt us?” he repeated. His words, dark and soft, with that Russian accent, made her tremble. She’d come here planning to drug him, but she couldn’t anymore. Not after everything they’d been through together. Not after how she felt about him now.
“No,” she answered honestly. The two vials of the serum lay in her purse, but she wouldn’t reach for them.
“Then why did you come after me at the club?” he asked.
“I…” She tensed, fear still fluttering inside her despite her building arousal. “We know about the dragon war, the power vacuum it left behind and how things might escalate into something worse. I wanted to get you alone so the Brotherhood could talk to you. We want to do what we can to help avert a full-scale war, but your people and mine have never really been on talking terms.”
Rurik’s gaze burned into hers. “Dragon war? That’s what this is about? You think my family can’t handle one Drakor dragon?” He chuckled. “You can tell the hunters there is nothing to fear.”
“But without the Drakors, there are others who will try to take their place…from China, maybe, or other continents. People could get hurt.”
“We would take the war to the countryside as we did a few months ago. There will be no casualties.”
“You’re assuming that they will play by the same rules as Drakor.”
This seemed to give Rurik pause, like she’d touched on something he hadn’t considered and that she might in fact have a point. That relaxed her enough to enjoy what he was doing even more, and it cut a little into the edge of fear she teetered on.
He kissed her stomach, flicked his tongue into her navel, and she dug her hands into his hair as he unzipped her jeans.
“I have more…questions,” he warned her. “Will you give me answers, or must I continue your interrogation with kisses?”
She could have sworn she heard playfulness in his tone, but it didn’t make sense. He should want to kill her for her deception. He had no reason to trust her, and she was a danger to him. So why was he kissing her when he should have been wanting to kill her? Weren’t dragons supposed to be ruthless? Maybe the synthetic pheromones she’d taken from the Brotherhood lab were keeping his temper down and his arousal up.
“I will answer,” she insisted and then gasped as he tugged her boots off her feet, then began to pull her pants down. God, his pheromones really were affecting her. She’d tell him just about anything to make him continue what he was doing.
“I don’t know if I trust you. You’ve lied before. Why not now?” He dropped her jeans onto the floor and then removed his shirt, tossing it down as well. He crawled back up her body, and she wrapped her arms around his back. Her cold fingers warmed instantly as they touched his hot skin.
“I swear, I’m telling the truth.” She panted as he traced one fingertip down her inner thigh, outlining her underwear before he hooked that finger un
der the fabric of her panties and began to tug them down.
“I want to be completely sure.” His silken tone sent ripples of erotic delight through her. Her panties and bra fell onto the floor, and she was lying completely bare beneath him.
“Are you still afraid of me?” Rurik brushed the backs of his knuckles over one taut nipple. Her breasts were heavy, the nipples ready for his mouth, but she couldn’t ask him, couldn’t tell him what she needed. Saw a playful tenderness in his eyes, mixed with an inferno of desire. Then she understood. He was playing some game with her. His idea of interrogation wasn’t painful—it was intensely pleasurable. The more she resisted, the farther he would go. And that was what she wanted most.
“Kiss me,” she urged in a desperate whisper, digging her nails into his shoulders. His green eyes changed, the pure color swirling with a honey gold. A dragon’s desire. It was so strong it changed the color of his eyes. She had a thousand questions, but when he dipped his head and nibbled her bottom lip, she decided they could be asked later.
His gaze raked down her naked form. “I will have all of your secrets, just as I will have you.”
She’d never dreamed she would meet a man like Rurik, all firepower, and have him want her back like this. But he did. She could see the hunger in his eyes. This wicked foreplay was more than just a game. The stakes were climbing higher and higher, because she was falling in love with him.
Rurik leaned over, kissing her ruthlessly, branding her as his, and she embraced it. She wanted to be his in every way. He slid one hand down, cupping her breast, kneading it gently. Then he moved that hand lower, cupping her ass, giving it a hard squeeze that sent jolts of pleasure through her. Then his hand slipped between her thighs, and one finger pushed into her wet, aching sex.
“Tight little thing, aren’t you?” he growled. “It is going to hurt to take you.” He bit her earlobe and tugged on it. She hissed and arched her back, pressing her breasts against his chest.
“Please, take me,” she moaned, and he growled low at the back of his throat. He shifted above her, unzipping his jeans. She lowered her head, watching him as he shucked off his jeans and boxers. The man was gorgeous. Fucking perfect, scars and all.
