by Zoe Chant
He caught her wrists, forcing her away. “My turn now,” he said, his voice hoarse with desire. “Please.”
She pouted a little, but allowed him to push her back down onto the bed. He knelt down on the floor, between her parted knees. Her soft thighs trembled as he gently urged them further apart.
Finally, finally she was revealed to him, in all her magnificent splendor. Her plump, pink folds were wet for him, eager and welcoming. With both thumbs, he spread her even further, adoring the way she gasped and arced into his touch. Her scent beckoned to him.
He dipped his head, finally able to do what he’d dreamed of doing, every night since they’d first met. Slowly, savoring every second, he ran his tongue up her slick folds.
From the first taste, he was lost—addicted to her forevermore. He devoured her more deeply, his fingers digging into her hips to pull her more firmly to his mouth.
Ivy’s thighs clenching around his head, her fingers tangling in his hair. Her release burst in a wave of sweetness, the pulsing waves of her pleasure throbbing against his tongue. The blood pounded in his cock in answer, so hard that for a moment he teetered on coming there and then.
“Now.” Ivy tugged at his hair, pulling him up with insistent urgency. “Now, Hugh, oh please, now!”
He couldn’t hold back any longer. He joined her on the bed, sliding his hands under the stunning curves of her ass. Kneeling between her legs, he supported her hips, getting just the right angle.
Slow, slow, slow. He had to be slow, no matter how she writhed and thrust in desperation.
Teeth gritting, he held her back, making her take him slowly. Inch by inch, she enveloped him, and God, it was better than dreams.
The faintest hint of resistance, and he made himself stop—but Ivy whined, her legs wrapping round him with irresistible force. There was nothing but drunk, dazed pleasure in her face as she pushed onto him. And at last, at last he was fully there, joined to her at last.
Her silken depths enfolded him, driving all other sensation away. He was blind to everything but her. Urgent instinct gripped him, setting a fierce, insistent rhythm. He drove into her again and again, each stroke better than the last as she tightened around him.
“Hugh!” Ivy clawed at his back, her eyes wide and dark with animal need. Her arms wrapped around his neck, straining to pull him closer to her bared teeth. “I want—I need—“
He knew what she wanted. As he made one last, deep thrust, he pulled her close to him, giving her his throat. Her teeth bit deep into the side of his neck.
Ecstasy exploded through him. He emptied endlessly into her, pouring himself out in hard, shuddering pulses. Even as he did, he felt her mind pour into his. As their bodies united, so did their souls.
My mate, he cried out silently, knowing that she could hear him again now. My mate!
My mate, she echoed, her own mental voice soft with wonder.
No, said a different voice.
It was almost Ivy’s, but not quite—harsher, wilder, with a core of utter certainty. Emerald eyes flashed in his mind, staring into his soul with the merciless focus of a hunting predator.
We will have all of you, Ivy’s wyvern snarled. How dare you hide? All of you is ours, always, forever. You are our mate, and we claim you, NOW!
A storm of wings and fury struck through him, even more intense than orgasm. The wyvern dove into the void at his core without hesitation, disappearing into the darkness.
And then—
Chapter 31
She’d killed him.
For five agonizing seconds—the longest five seconds of her life—she was certain that something had gone terribly wrong. Hugh’s head snapped back, his whole body seizing as if in a fit. He jerked apart from her, toppling off the bed with a crash.
“Hugh!” she shrieked, all of her afterglow extinguished by stark terror.
A blinding flash of light made her instinctively throw an arm across her face, shielding her eyes. A gust of wind blew back her hair. She tasted the scent of fresh rain and bruised greenery in the air, like a forest in the wake of a thunderstorm.
Her wyvern slammed back into her soul with the force of a comet. She’d dimly been aware of it separating from her during the overwhelming ecstasy of mating, but now it was back in its accustomed place in her mind, green-scaled sides heaving with exertion.
There, it said, sounding tired, smug, and not in the least concerned.
The eye-searing blaze faded to a shimmering glow. She dropped her arm, blinking in the sudden soft, golden light.
The unicorn staggered to his feet, uncertain as a newborn fawn. He stared at her with wide, sapphire eyes, looking even more astonished than she was.
“Hugh,” she whispered. And then, louder, a shout of pure joy: “Hugh!”
Hugh’s ears flicked back and forth, as if he was still trying to work out what had happened. His shining horn scythed the bedside lamp off the side table as he swung his head round to inspect his own white flanks. He lifted each front hoof in turn, stamping horseshoe dents into the bedroom carpet.
What the devil? he said in her mind, sounding utterly dumbfounded.
“You’re back.” She scrambled off the bed, flinging her arms around his shining neck. His fur was soft as velvet against her naked skin. “Oh, Hugh, you’re back!”
Fingers trembling, she brushed his sweeping mane back from his forehead. His horn was no longer only silver. Now, a gleaming line of pure gold spiraled up the long length, shining bright as the rising sun.
She traced the gleaming path, feeling how it thickened a bit near the base, where Gaze had cut him. There was no sign of that dreadful wound now. His horn shone from base to tip. Where once it had shimmered with faint, firefly motes, now it glittered with white-gold sparks.
“You’re healed,” she said, tears streaking her cheeks. “Hugh, your horn. It’s healed.”
He went cross-eyed, as if trying to see his own forehead. Even on a unicorn, it was an undignified look. Ivy broke into giggles, her legs giving way underneath her. She collapsed back onto the bed, shaking with laughter and gratitude and sheer disbelief.
Hugh blurred, shifting back into human form. He stood there, naked, looking down at his own hands with a lopsided, bemused grin. Still gasping for breath, Ivy pulled him down next to her. She wound arms and legs around him, kissing him indiscriminately over lips and jaw and neck.
“But how did this happen?” she asked, breaking off for a moment. “You didn’t suspect this could happen, did you?”
“Not in the slightest.” He traced a circle over her heart with one finger. “I think it was your wyvern. I felt her go…into me, somehow. And she pulled out my unicorn.”
He was hiding. Her wyvern yawned, flipping its wings as though it hadn’t done anything extraordinary. We didn’t like that. We wanted all our mate. All of him, ours, always.
“Did you hear that?” Ivy asked him, curious. “Can you still hear my animal?”
He shook his head. “No, she’s gone back to you. I can only hear my own now.” A soft, wondering look came into his eyes. “It isn’t quiet anymore.”
She snuggled into his shoulder, idly tracing the lines of his tattoos. “What does your unicorn say? Where was it?”
“It doesn’t really know. It remembers going, and then…it was back.” He was silent for a long moment, his fingers running lightly up and down the length of her spine. “I think it was always still there. Just lost. It was driven down into some deep, dark place by the sexual energy we created.”
She stiffened in sudden alarm. “Oh no. Does that mean we can’t—“
He cut off her words with a passionate kiss, his tongue sliding between her lips. She closed her eyes, surrendering to pleasure.
“We can do anything,” he murmured into her mouth. His hand slid over her breast, making her gasp and press against him. “Everything. My unicorn’s stronger now. That sort of energy won’t hurt it anymore.”
“No more headaches?” she breathed, a
s his fingers teased and caressed.
“No more headaches.” His mouth turned up in a wicked smile. “I think that calls for a celebration, don’t you?”
He ducked his head, kissing along her collarbone. She squirmed in delightful anticipation as he worked his way down to her eager nipple.
“Wait,” she said, another cold thought breaking her out of the moment. “What about Gaze?”
Hugh made a muffled, impatient sound. “What about him?”
From the way Hugh’s rock-hard length was pressing against her thigh, he had far more interesting matters on his mind at the moment. Nonetheless, she tugged at his hair, pulling him up.
“Well, you’re a unicorn again,” she said, worried. “And Gaze is still free to talk. How are we going to hide your secret?”
His expression tightened, brow creasing. He looked away, eyes going distant, as if he was having some internal dialogue with his animal.
“Secrecy didn’t keep me safe,” he said at last. “It just distanced me from people who could have helped, if I’d let them. Maybe…maybe it’s time to stop hiding.”
He flashed a grin at her. “After all, I’ve got a rather powerful mate to watch my back now. Only a fool tries to stand in the way of a wyvern.”
Yes, her wyvern said, pleased and smug. Good mate. Trusts us. We will never let anyone hurt him.
Ivy wasn’t sure she shared her animal’s confidence. “Are you sure, Hugh?”
He kissed her forehead, very gently.
“You were brave enough to let go of your fear,” he said. “Now I need to let go of mine.”
Epilogue
“Hughnicorn!”
Hugh scowled as Chase enfolded him in a welcoming hug. “How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?”
“As many times as you want. I’m still going to do it.” Chase released him, turning to Ivy and Hope with a broad grin. “Lovely ladies! Merry Christmas!”
Hugh’s irritation melted away as Chase embraced Ivy without the slightest hint of hesitation. It was probably just a typically exuberant, spontaneous gesture, but Chase couldn’t have picked a better time or place.
The Full Moon pub was packed with celebrating shifters. Rose always relaxed the pub’s ‘adults only’ rule on Christmas Eve. Toddlers tumbled amidst the bar tables on four legs or two, overcome by excited anticipation. Older children were on their best behavior, wide-eyed with the thrill of being allowed into the usually forbidden territory and determined not to do anything that might put them on Santa’s Naughty List at the last minute.
Although word had slowly been getting round the shifter community over the past few weeks that Ivy could now control her venom, Hugh had noticed more than one parent stiffen at their arrival. Chase’s casual acceptance went a long way to soothe the lingering wisps of suspicion.
Chase let go of Ivy, turning back to Hugh. “So, how does it feel to be a National Treasure?”
Hugh grimaced. “Very odd. And if you start calling me that, then I swear to God I will hit you.”
When Hugh had told his parents of his intent to stop hiding his nature, he’d been expecting to be disinherited. He’d at least expected his father to be incandescently angry.
What he hadn’t expected was for his father to use his position as the Earl of Hereford to seek a private audience with the Queen.
Hugh was rather glad not to have been involved in that discussion. But whatever his father had said to the monarch, it had been effective. The Queen had declared the whole Silver family to be National Treasures, under her direct protection. Harming them was now tantamount to stealing from the Queen herself.
And no one was going to mess with the most powerful dragon shifter in Great Britain.
Chase’s teasing smile widened. “So if you’re officially part of the Royal Hoard now, does that mean you’re technically owned by the Queen?”
Hugh put his arm over Ivy’s shoulders. “There’s only one person I belong to.”
“On the topic of mates,” Chase said. His chest swelled, pride clear in his face as he beckoned to someone in the crowd. “Ivy, Hope, there’s someone I’ve been wanting you to meet. My mate, Connie.”
Ivy’s smile turned rather fixed. Hugh felt her alarm flash down the mate bond. The pegasus shifter might have forgiven her for what she’d done to him and his mate, but Hugh knew Ivy still hadn’t forgiven herself.
He sent a wave of love and reassurance to her. It’s all right, he said in her mind. Chase wouldn’t introduce you if there was still any bad feeling.
And indeed, Connie reached out to shake Ivy’s hand firmly. The short, curvy pilot looked Ivy in the eye.
“It’s good to meet you properly at last,” Connie said, her tone sincere. “We’re both so grateful for what you’ve done for Hugh.”
“I’m sorry I wrecked your plane!” Ivy blurted out, looking stricken.
Connie grinned, her smile as easy and welcoming as Chase’s. “Ah, it’s all fixed now. And if you hadn’t, Chase and I would never have become mates. I can thank you for that.”
Despite these words, Ivy still looked rather worried. “At least let me repay you for the damage I did.”
A slightly strangled cough escaped Hugh. He was certain that Ivy hadn’t the faintest idea just how rare and valuable Connie’s Spitfire actually was, or she’d never have made the offer. And in any event, Chase was the only son of a billionaire. He could afford to buy—and did buy—any plane that Connie fancied.
“No need for that,” Chase said, with a rather amused sideways glance at Hugh. His expression brightened, a reckless gleam entering his eye. “But if you really want to make amends, perhaps we could have a little wager. We still haven’t determined who’s really fastest in the air.”
Hope raised her eyebrows at him. “From what Ivy told me, the last time she left you in the dust.”
Connie chuckled. “That’s not the way Chase tells that story. We should have a race to settle the matter for once and all. But just for fun.” She poked Chase in the side, throwing a mock-glare at him. “No gambling.”
A tentative smile broke across Ivy’s face. “Pegasus versus wyvern versus airplane?”
“You’re on.” Connie grinned at both Ivy and Chase. “Prepare to eat my slipstream.”
“Don’t think I’m going to let you win just because you’re my mate,” Chase warned. “Pegasus honor is at stake here.”
“Ivy is gonna thrash you both,” Hope declared.
“We’ll see,” Ivy said, though Hugh could sense her secret confidence. “Well, if you won’t let me pay for the plane, at least let me buy you a drink.”
“Ooh, thanks,” Hope said. “I’ll have a mulled wine.”
“You’re seventeen,” Ivy and Hugh said together.
Hope shrugged unrepentantly. “It was worth a try. Hey, there’s Betty! Catch you all later.”
“I’ll come to the bar with you,” Chase said to Ivy as Hope wheeled off through the crowd. He turned to his mate. “Mulled wine for you, my love?”
Connie shook her head. “Soft drink. Just in case.”
Chase’s merry expression sobered a bit. He planted a swift, soft kiss on his mate’s forehead before following Ivy to the bar.
From the way Connie’s hand drifted down to rest on her stomach, Hugh could guess what was going on. For a week every month, Connie would have that hopeful, nervous air. And then, every month, she would be disappointed. No matter how hard she and Chase tried, they just couldn’t get pregnant.
His unicorn nudged him. We should do something about that.
Hugh slapped his own forehead. “I’m an idiot. Connie, may I touch you?”
“Yes, of course,” she said, although she flashed him a puzzled look. “But it’s okay, Hugh. I know you can’t do anything to help.”
“I couldn’t do anything to help,” he said. “Before.”
Keeping his touch professionally neutral, Hugh slid his hand under Connie’s shirt, resting his palm against the soft cur
ve of her stomach. He closed his eyes, concentrating.
The energies involved in reproduction were strong…but he was stronger now himself. Now that his unicorn no longer flinched away from sexual energies, his questing mind could navigate the powerful forces surging within Connie’s abdomen.
There was a tiny spark of potential there. It struggled to cling on, to put out roots that would allow it to grow. But the environment that should have supported it was slightly off. A little tilt in the hormonal balance…easily shifted back again…
“Hugh, what are you doing?” Chase said, in a not entirely friendly tone.
Hugh started, coming out of the healing trance. Chase and Ivy had returned with drinks. They both wore matching tight, fixed expressions of barely-controlled jealousy. Shifters didn’t cope well with other people touching their mates.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that, both of you. This is strictly for medical reasons.” Hugh withdrew his hand, flexing his fingers to shake out the tingle of using his healing powers. “I’m just helping Connie stay pregnant.”
A glass slipped from Chase’s hand. “Did you say…stay pregnant?”
Hugh tried not to look too smug. “Allow me to be the first to congratulate you both.”
“We’re going to have a baby?” Chase breathed. He seized his mate, hugging her one-armed. “We’re going to have a baby!”
Connie looked like she didn’t dare to believe it. “We can’t celebrate yet—it’s still too early, anything could go wrong.”
“I’m fairly certain it won’t.” To Hugh’s senses, that tiny spark of potential was now beating strongly, shining with vibrant life.
In fact…
“Ah,” he said, rubbing his chin. “Hmm. Chase, you said that you wanted three children, right?”
“One would be a miracle,” Connie said quickly. “Don’t worry about more. If you can only help us just this once, that’ll still be more than enough.”
“Yes, but you wouldn’t be upset to have three babies, would you?” Hugh said cautiously. “Like, oh, just hypothetically speaking…identical triplets?”
