by J Thompson
“Ooh cake,” she whispered to herself and closed the last drawer. Cake was a better idea than snooping.
Skipping with the most energy she had felt in years, Sula entered the simple kitchen. The clean worktops and wooden doors again called out to Damian’s simple, yet masculine style. One she enjoyed and, if she had ever been lucky enough to have her own place, would have opted for as well.
Sula didn’t mess about and headed straight to the large refrigerator. It was one of those double ones that towered over her. It took both of her hands gripping the handle as she pulled open the double doors. The weight of them nearly pulled her off her feet, but she held her ground as the doors swung open.
Sula grinned. There it was. There waiting just for her was an extremely large chocolate cake, one that was nearer the size of a truck tire in diameter. As she looked at the chocolate-covered delight sitting on the middle shelf, she did feel a tiny pang of guilt for eating Damian’s cake. Hell he never said anything. Since she had started to pilfer the cake, Damian had never brought it up about the slices going missing.
Maybe he thought he had eaten them and had forgotten.
But there was no way she was not eating it. It called to her.
Chocolate called to women everywhere, and when it called, she in particular had to answer.
So here she was, head first in the cake while the rest of her body stood in the doorway of the refrigerator.
This was the happiest she had ever been in her life, she thought as she stuffed a slice into her already filled mouth.
SHIT. He’d forgotten his cell.
Damian had barely stepped out of the lift in the lobby when he realized the loss, but instantly he was caught in conversation with Reggie, the security guard on duty. Not wanting to be rude to the human, a decent guy who dealt with security for the lower offices in the block, he’d hung around for a chat. It wasn’t like he had much to do today at court other than training. On her honeymoon, the queen wasn’t in residence at the moment, so most of the blacks were keeping up with their training and patrols. Business as normal, without all the pomp and circumstance usually involved.
Extracting himself from the conversation quickly when Reggie’s attention was distracted, Damian turned around to take the lift back up to his apartment. Seeing a familiar, slender blonde step in to the lift, he veered off to the left and took the doors to the stairs. Twenty floors up, but it was preferable to being shut in a small space with Debby, Waldek Industries’ resident cougar. If she were a werecougar, it would have been a different matter. She wasn’t. She was very human, but more predatory than any shifter he’d ever known, and on the lookout for husband number four.
He didn’t intend to be it.
So instead, he took the stairs two at a time, powering up them until he reached the penthouse level. Rubbing a hand over his jaw, he shouldered his way through the door. As he walked into the kitchen, he stopped dead.
There was a half-naked woman in front of his fridge.
She sat crossed legged with a piece of cake in each hand. Where there should have been hair, there was none. Only red stubble could be seen on her scalp. Yet she still looked extremely feminine. Her face was unrecognizable, mainly due to being completely covered in chocolate. If anything, she looked like she was enjoying herself thoroughly.
“Who the hell are you?” His harsh demand made her jump, turning and leaping to her feet in the same heartbeat. She backed up, fear written in every line of her body, but he’d been caught by her eyes.
Large. Golden. Familiar.
“Dot?”
He watched as her eyes widened more and she backed up farther, almost as if she wanted to crawl into the fridge and hide. She had dropped the cake on the floor, the deep brown leaving smears across the wood. Her hands were still caked in the frosting along with her face. She had somehow managed to cover the front of the fridge as well. Her front was covered, the material caked in thick frosting that made his dragon want to moan at the waste.
Wait, was that his shirt?
His eyes narrowed for a fraction of a second. That was indeed his shirt. One of the fancy ones he wore at court when he wasn’t in combat dress. Then he smiled. She looked adorable in it… and, despite the chocolate covering her, hot as all hell. The male part of his brain instantly saw past the frosting to the slender lines of her legs and the curves hinted at under the linen covering her.
But she was terrified, her scent hanging on the air, and he held his hands out to the sides.
“It’s just me,” he told her. “You know me. Remember?”
She tilted her head exactly like she did when she was in her bird form, although he still had no clue what she was. He could see her hands as they shook and her eyes now looked past him. She was in flight mode, and if he didn’t do something quickly, she would either bolt or shift straight back to being a bird. He wanted to keep her in this form. He wanted information.
“Shhh, it’s okay, dot. It’s just me.”
He kept his voice low and calming, hands out to the side as he lowered himself to a crouch and then onto his knees. He was a big guy and a predatory-type shifter. She was obviously a shifter as well, and a prey-type. The last thing he wanted was her running and hurting herself.
So he needed to make himself smaller.
“Talk to me, dot. How’s the cake? Did you manage to eat it all this time?” he asked, amusement leaching into his voice. He’d been aware her appetite was coming back, but he hadn’t linked the disappearing cake with the little bird. He’d thought the cleaners who came in during the evening had been removing the remains.
Her voice was so quiet he almost missed it. His dragon didn’t.
“I’m sorry,” her lips moved again, repeating the words as her eyes left him and she bowed her head. Instead of bolting she thankfully stayed, gracefully dropping to the floor. She brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her chocolate-covered arms around them.
“I’m sorry…about the cake…please,” she stuttered. “Please don’t kick me out… I don’t want to leave.”
It had taken everything in him to stay where he was when he’d discovered her, but the scared note in her voice broke his control.
“Hey… No one’s doing any kicking out or leaving,” he said, walking toward her on his knees. She tensed but didn’t move, so he edged a little closer. “Where would I be without my little dot eating all the cake so I don’t get fat, eh?”
“I didn’t mean to,” she answered again, her eyes peeking over her knees but the orbs no longer showing intense fear like they had before. “You are not fat,” she whispered as her cheeks appeared to change from pink to a blush red. She bent her head again and he felt the loss of looking in her amber eyes.
“Hey… hey… don’t hide,” he begged, sitting cross legged in front of her. Even here, he towered over her. Shit… should he lie down on the floor? “You have pretty eyes. What’s your name?”
She peeked over her knees again, but this time she smiled. It didn’t quite reach her eyes, but it showed him his fumbling on the floor like a floundered fish was doing at least some good at helping to put her at ease.
“Sula,” she mumbled. “I’m called Sula.”
This time she kept her eyes trained on him, although her face still remained partly hidden by her knees.
She was watching him. That was good. Better than her hiding from him. His dragon purred, wanting to get closer to the little female, and he had to hold it back, smiling at her again.
“Hey, Sula, I’m Damian. Pleased to meet you,” he said, holding out his hand to shake, as if they were at a court function and not sitting on the tiles of his kitchen floor.
Her cautious eyes flicked from his face and back to his outstretched hand before she slowly released her grip on her own knee and placed her small hand in his own.
“Hello,” she answered, her voice louder than it had been, “Damian.” She paused. “Thank you.”
CHAPTER 5
Sula’s hear
t was thumping so hard against her chest that she was convinced it would burst through her ribs at any moment and land on the floor right at Damian’s feet. It had been doing this since the moment she had been caught waist deep in the fridge with her face planted in the chocolate cake.
She had been convinced the moment he knew she was the “parrot,” he would ask her to leave, not just for stealing his cake but for in essence lying to him about what she was.
Only instead of doing that he did the complete opposite. Now he sat on the floor amongst the chocolate frosting watching her, talking to her, and once again making her feel the safest she had ever felt in her entire existence.
Seeing him now from her human form, she was far more aware of the fact that he was a large, powerful male. Yet he had done nothing but show her kindness. His introduction pulled at her heart. When he had held out his hand, she had zero control over her own as it lifted to meet it.
The feel of that large paw as it engulfed her own felt right. It felt perfect, and there was nothing more she would like than to crawl the few feet and curl up in his lap.
“Thank you,” Sula managed to whisper. There was so much more she wanted to say, more than just a simple thank you, but those words were lodged in her throat.
How would she say thank you to someone for saving her life? How could she put that into words that would convey how grateful she actually was.
“You’re welcome.” He inclined his head as he spoke, still watching her with that keen gaze. That was one thing she’d learned about him while she’d been hiding out in his apartment in disguise. He was far more intelligent than she had at first assumed given his size and build.
“Do you want to talk?” he asked. “Tell me what happened to you?”
Sula loved his voice, loved how its tone flowed over and under her skin, loved how it settled her bird. His question did the opposite. Could she talk about how she had been locked in a cage for the majority of her life. Could she admit that she had been plucked, burned, cut and anything else her owners had fancied to do.
As she looked into Damian’s dark eyes, she felt things fall into place and realized that if she was to tell anyone her story, this male would listen and wouldn’t judge her.
“It’s a long story,” she admitted, her voice louder, and she became more confident in his presence. That urge to move into his lap was getting stronger, and as she had found out with the chocolate cake, she had zero willpower.
Even sitting on the floor, he towered over her, but that had never scared her. It made her feel protected and safe. Sula removed her hand from his grasp and before she had time to chicken out or give him chance to stop her, she moved.
Sula quickly crawled toward Damian and onto his lap, moving his hands out of the way until she was settled and then pulled his arms around her.
“I was captured when I was just months out of my egg,” Sula began, relaxing as he tightened his hold and settled her against his chest like he did when she was in bird form. It wasn’t quite the same, though, not when he was wearing clothes. The feminine part of her pouted and wanted to demand he remove it, but… she continued talking instead.
“They came in the night, as all bad men do. They took my mother first. My family had decided to spend the first few months after my hatching in their bird form as it helped with my growth.” Sula sighed as she recalled the night she had been taken. Barbs of pain hit her heart but she continued.
“Only we had been betrayed by someone my parents had thought was a friend. They took my mother before they returned and tried to take my father. Only he had shifted and tried to stop them. They killed him.”
Sula let the tears fall freely. Damian didn’t know their worth yet, but there was no way she could hold them in. Not now.
“Then they took me. I never saw my mother again. I was placed into a cage, and that’s where I stayed until they wanted something from me. I was allowed to shift now and again but they preferred me to be in my bird form.”
Sula sniffed and turned her head into Damian’s chest. They had defiled her in nearly every single way. What male would want her knowing how broken she was.
“I’m broken,” Sula whispered against the cotton of his t-shirt.
“Shhh. You’re not.” He held her carefully and she was sure his body heat had increased. He felt like a furnace against her chilled skin and she nestled closer. “You survived, and that… that can be the hardest thing of all.”
He was silent for a moment, and then he moved, keeping her in his lap but leaning back to strip his shirt off. She was struck dumb for a moment, wanting to run her hands all over the solidly muscled male flesh on display, but then he took her hand and did it for her, placing her hand on a silvery scar over his chest.
“I was three when they came,” he said softly. “I’m a black. My parents weren’t, so they couldn’t fight off the men who’d decided they could make money from me. They died trying to keep me safe, but they couldn’t. The men took me. They beat me, caged me, tried to make me shift more times than I can remember.”
Sula stroked her palm over the silver scar, reveling in the feel of his bare skin under her hands. The heat was addictive. His words made her ache—for the child that was taken from his family, robbed of a life that should never have had violence or pain in it. She tilted her chin and looked up at his proud profile.
“What’s a black?” Sula asked. She was ignorant when it came to anything in the world of shifters, or anything to do with the world. She only knew what she had briefly seen on the TV if it had been on in the same room as her.
“I have scars too,” she admitted when he didn’t answer her question straight away.
“A black?” he looked at her in surprise, and then realization filtered into his gorgeous eyes. “A black dragon, love. We’re the biggest and baddest of the lot.” He winked, treating her to a devastating smile. “So if those assholes think they can take you again, they’ve another think coming.”
Sula squeaked. A dragon! She had heard the men in the office discuss dragons, how much they were worth and how the scales could be used. She had also heard of the violence of dragons. She believed him when he said the biggest and baddest. Sula didn’t fight the smile that answered his own. He was beautiful, if a male could be called that.
“You won’t eat me. Will you?” Sula asked.
His smile turned a little wicked as he gathered her closer. “Only if you ask nicely, little bird.”
Sula smiled again. She knew there was another meaning to his answer, but her naive mind couldn’t quite grasp it. The only thing that mattered to her right now was being safe and protected in his arms.
“So you can fly?” Sula asked again. She wanted to know more about him, more about this scary yet exciting world she was now a part of. Damian had said that those men would never take her again, and she believed him. For once she believed that someone wanted to keep her safe and not because they wanted something from her.
“I’ve never flown. What’s it like?” she asked again, her voice now strong and clear. “Does it hurt? How fast do you go?”
He shook his head. “It doesn’t hurt. And fast… faster than a bird for sure.” He lifted a hand and booped her on the nose gently. “We can go flying if you want. But you’ll need to clean some of that cake off first. And we need to wrap you up.”
DAMIAN WAITED outside his bedroom like a cat on a hot tin roof as Sula changed clothes. His shirt would never do if they were to go flying. She’d freeze to death. Leaning back against the wall, he rested his head against the painted plaster and blew out a breath.
She was beautiful. Delicate, fragile… yes, scarred and scared… but utterly beautiful. And all this time she’d been right here under his nose.
Closing his eyes, he ran a hand through his hair. He’d thought he’d scented a female in here, the tantalizing scent teasing him as he awoke. He’d put it down to the fading remnants of a dream he couldn’t remember… but it wasn’t. It was her.
Hi
s eyes snapped open.
She’d been shifting at night. The dreams he’d had of a soft female body curled up next to him, the one with the scent that made his dragon purr, hadn’t been a dream at all. It had been her.
Ourrrrrsssss, his dragon chose that moment to add, making Damian shake his head. Everything male in him ached to take her in his arms and claim her. But he couldn’t, not yet, not with how scared and nervous she was.
The door opened and out walked Sula. He would have laughed, but the look on her face made him stop. She was dressed in his clothes, each item burying her in the material. The jogging bottoms had been rolled up until they didn’t drag on the floor and the belt of his robe had been used to keep them up on her small hips. Instead of his shirt, she now wore his black hoodie, the one he usually wore when he went jogging. Both items he would now always associate with this moment. She looked so damn adorable he again fought the need to take her in his arms. The only thing that wasn’t covered was her head, the random tufts of hair sticking out. Instead of looking strange, they only added to her appeal.
“You are going to need a hat, dot… I don’t want you catching a chill.”
He fussed about her, pulling a beanie hat from the closet by the front door and making sure it covered her ears. Then he pulled the hoodie up to cover the hat. Just to be sure. All the time she watched him with the same wide eyes she had in bird form. A bird shifter. Who’d have thought it? They were rare, but not unheard of. And not that valuable. Why had they kept her for so long?
“Ready?” he asked, holding out a hand as they stood in front of the large folding doors that made up one wall of his living room. Beyond it was a large patio, big enough even for him to shift and take off.
Her hand tightened in his, squeezing as hard as she could, but she nodded that she was ready. The wind whipped across the open area and she closed her eyes. At first he thought it was fear, but when she opened them again, excitement and joy filled the orbs to the point that a small tear trickled down her cheek. She smiled at him, a smile of pure happiness before she lifted her face to the sun.
