Heartsridge Shifters: Owen (The Protectors Book 1)

by Olivia Arran

  I wanted to melt into his embrace, sink into his strength and wrap it all around me, let it bolster the gnawing sense of hope that had sparked inside of me at Dante’s words. I also wanted to walk away from everything, run as fast as I could, if only so I wouldn’t have to hear what I was now beginning to realize was my truth.

  A truth that I hadn’t known about a life filled with lies and deceit. The foundation which had twisted me into the woman I was today.

  Feeling torn, I wavered, shaking from the urges trying to rip me apart. Then Owen’s words came back to me, his declaration delivered with such furious indignation, it could only ever be the truth: I would do anything for her. Anything.

  I’d given him nothing, yet he’d give me anything. Everything. A place to call home. A job. Laughter. Safety and security, enough that I’d stopped looking over my shoulder without realizing it. A family with his pack.

  A man who was looking at me now like he wanted to destroy the world and feed it to me piece by piece.

  Raising my hands, I ran them over his broad shoulders, roaming over his thick chest, grazing my fingertips down his muscular stomach, following the ridges down to his waistband and curling my fingers into the leather of his belt. He towered over me, his gorgeous green eyes softening as they searched my face, his large hand cupping my cheek with a reverence that had another chink in my heart sliding back into place with a soft thud.

  If he could give me anything, then I could give him this…

  I yanked him closer, stretching up onto my tiptoes and sought his lips with mine. His head dipped, closing the gap and sealing us together, his deep rumble vibrating through me, as if he knew this was more than just a kiss. Our mouths slid together once, then twice, air merging and mingling as I broke away. “Thank you,” I whispered against his lips, willing him to comprehend something that I didn’t yet understand myself.

  His eyes searched my face, then he nodded, dropping his head to rest against mine. “Anytime, sugar. Anytime.”

  A throat cleared behind Owen. “Now that you’ve had your little freak out session—or should I say make out—perhaps we could go somewhere a little quieter to discuss the revelations of this evening?”

  I groaned and Owen huffed, his voice low, but still loud enough for Dante to hear, “Why does he talk like that?”

  “Because he’s old.”

  Owen’s shoulders shook as he chuckled, then he pulled away, a soft smile curving the corners of his mouth. “Shall we see what he has to say?”

  “And then I can kick his ass?”

  A snort sounded behind Owen. “I can hear you—”

  “Because I wanted you to,” I tossed in his direction.

  Owen stole a quick kiss. “Then we can kick his ass.”

  I pouted. “You think I can’t handle him?”

  “I can still hear you.” Dante was sounding a little pissed by now.

  “Of course you can handle him.” I blinked at Owen as he continued with a sly wink, “But I can’t let you have all the fun, can I?”

  I shot him a grin, my next words spilling out and bypassing the filter on my brain, “Damn. Why do you have to be so perfect?”

  He arched a brow, but didn’t say a word, letting his satisfied smirk do all the talking for him as I led the way out of the bar.

  There weren’t many places open this late at night, and through silent consensus we didn’t go back to the packhouse, ending up in the hotel lobby just down the street. Sipping coffees in a small, cozy alcove set to the side of the main door, strained silence hung between us. Dante looked lost in his own thoughts, his expression introspective and dark, while Owen was apparently waiting for me to kick things off.

  Fine. Well, that was one thing I was good at—kicking. Especially ass.

  I set my coffee cup down, licking a fleck of cappuccino foam from my lip. “Start talking.”

  Dante seemed to shake himself, eventually refocusing on me. “Your mother—your real mother—was someone I once cared about a lot, but she wasn’t destined to be mine.”

  Was. I swallowed hard; I’d already figured that part out, but hearing him confirm it was painful, despite having never known the woman. “What was her name?”

  “Maria. And your father was named Seth.”

  Another was. “How did they die?” My voice cracked and I licked my lips. Owen’s fingers closed around mine, squeezing tight in an offer of silent support.

  “Another clan.” Dante scrubbed his hand over his face, sitting forward in his chair, coffee mug tilting to the side. “You know the story—”

  Owen’s thigh tensed against mine. “I don’t, so why don’t you humor me and start from the beginning?”

  I gave Dante a nod, indicating that that was exactly what he should do. Who knew if what I’d been told was actually the truth?

  Without comment, Dante leaned back in his chair, swiping his hair off his forehead, his eyes becoming distant again, as if gathering his thoughts. Just as I was about to prompt him, he began talking, “As you know, the balance of male and female dragon shifters used to be about equal, no greater or smaller than any other shifter species. We kept to ourselves—”

  “Nothing’s changed there, then,” I heard Owen mutter under his breath.

  “—and avoided interaction with the world.” He stroked his chin, tension pulling his mouth tight. “A slight was made between one clan and another—whatever trivial thing it was, it has been lost to history and matters no more—because the damage had been done. We went to war with each other.”

  “And the war lasted for fifty years,” I murmured. It was the same story I knew, no differences so far. It was strange to think of clans and civil wars, especially since they didn’t exist anymore, not for a long time. We were too few in number now to divide ourselves up by families, and with the whole shifters coming out to the humans thing, we were now governed by a different set of laws.

  “None of the clans could gain an advantage and the losses were trivial. It seemed the war would never end, that the fighting would continue for centuries without respite.”

  “How did it end?” Owen asked.

  Dante chuckled, but it was a dark sound, bitter and hopeless. “God taught us a lesson in humility. A sickness swept through the dragons, a plague of some sorts, killing thousands with no apparent rhyme or reason for who was selected for death. When the dust had settled and the final numbers of those who had survived were counted, we discovered the sickness had indeed been selective.” He waited a breath, then, “It took our women from us. Men as well, but far more of our women.”

  Owen seemed to be digesting the story, his eyes hooded.

  “And my mother?”

  “The clans weren’t at war any longer, they weren’t even a thing anymore, had been disbanded due to lack of numbers, but dragons still fought. Underhand and dirty tactics more often than not, and what they fought over should be obvious.”

  “Women.”

  Dante inclined his head.

  “My parents—” I corrected myself—“My adoptive parents killed my real mother and father?”

  “No.”

  My anger deflated as if he’d stuck a pin in me. “Then, who?”

  “Someone from what used to be called the Teal Clan.” He held up a hand. “That person is dead now. I killed him to avenge your parents.”

  “An honorable kill,” I murmured, acknowledging his right to the kill in my stead as blood family.

  He inclined his head. “One I performed with great satisfaction, especially since I thought they’d taken something that wasn’t theirs.” He pointed at me. “I searched for you, but you were like a ghost in the wind. Our species weren’t the best at communicating—too much bad blood—and, as the years passed, I gave up all hope of tracking you down.”

  Sucking in a deep breath, my head swimming with all the new information as my heart bled for the parents I’d never known, I asked the one thing I had to know, “What is my real name?”

  His eyes widened
. “Briana, of course. You were only a baby when they took you and I assume your adoptive parents thought it best to keep it as your middle name.” He finished his coffee, setting the mug down with a soft thump. “Your family name is Bloodstone.” He stared at me, as if waiting for some big reaction.

  When all I did was stare back at him, his expression fell.

  “Briana Bloodstone.” The name rolled off my lips and I wanted it to feel familiar … but it didn’t.

  He grunted, looking less than amused at my lack of awe and fluttery hands. “Bloodstone was one of the first three ruling clans. Together they ruled over all dragon shifters, forming a sort of government, so to speak.” He shrugged his broad shoulders, as if he hadn’t just dropped a historical bomb on me. “Your bloodline is one of the oldest and most powerful of all dragons, and you are the last living member of the Bloodstone clan.”

  Huh. Well, shit. That kinda sounded like a big deal … to someone, anyway. The way he’d put it out there, like I was suddenly so much more than I’d ever been, when, truthfully, I still felt like little old me. I cleared my throat. “Three ruling clans?”

  “Bloodstone, Bloodrock, and Bloodfire.” His mouth curved in a smug smile. “We are almost family. My name is Bloodfire.” Dante shot a smirk at Owen, as if trying to score a point, or something equally ridiculous with the tenuous connection.

  “Actually, her name is Briana Robson.” Owen’s lips curved up in a shit-eating grin that stretched wide and flashed his teeth.

  “Okay, boys, if you can stop swinging your dicks around for a second.” I sucked in another breath; I couldn’t seem to be able to get enough air in my lungs lately. “But, why did they…” I buried my face in my hands, pushing back my hair as I stared blankly at the table.

  The two men stopped their little pissing contest, their attention swerving back to me. Owen was the first to speak, his glare shutting Dante down, “Why did they what, sugar?”

  I tried to force the words out, but they wouldn’t come, sticking in my throat and threatening to choke me. Then why did my adoptive parents train me to be a warrior, then try to give me away?

  “I think that’s enough information for today.” Strong hands guided me out of my seat, Owen’s masculine scent wrapping around me as his arm hugged my shoulders tight.

  “Come see me if you have questions. Take care of her, wolf. Protect her.”

  I heard Dante. I might even have answered him, but all I could think about was the parents I’d never known, and the ones I never wanted to see again.

  Add to that the fact that Dante knew my real name. Okay, both of my real names. And he hadn’t done a damn thing about it. Which meant he had to know what they would do if they found me.

  Was he protecting me? But, why?

  And what the heck had I done to deserve this fate?

  Chapter Nineteen

  Owen

  Bree had been quiet ever since Dante’s revelation. Time had passed in a blur, filled with the last couple of days of bootcamp before we’d waved the humans off, setting them free to go back to their real lives. A couple of them had actually proved reasonably proficient by the end of the week, possessing the natural gut instincts a human needed when dealing with something bigger and badder than themselves.

  But if shifter were to attack them, they’d still die.

  In reality, the only reason humans still ruled the world was because of sheer numbers. And weapons, couldn’t forget those. But one-on-one, they didn’t stand a chance.

  My mind drifted back to my mate as I set my elbows on the veranda railing, bringing my mug to my lips and blowing off the steam. Her silence bothered me more than I’d like to admit, but I knew she needed time to process everything, and I would give it to her. She still did her job, laughed and joked with everyone when it was expected of her, and slid under the covers with me every night, turning to me with a passion that never failed to stun me, but she was … absent. Inside her own head, and it worried me.

  Frowning, I tracked the trail of steam from my mug as it drifted into the crisp air, sunlight just starting to peak over the trees and burn away the morning mist. Frost clung to the grass, spreading a white veil ahead of me and clinging to the new swing set that rose up out of the ground, like a phantom enticing children to come play for a while.

  “Penny for your thoughts.” Julie came to a stop next to me, her hand tracing a path over her stomach and eyes searching the view in front of us.

  I took another mouthful of coffee. “You’re up early.”

  “You try getting any sleep with a bag of potatoes using your bladder as a punching bag.” Her tone might have indicated displeasure, but she was smiling.

  “He’s moving around a lot in there?”

  “She is learning karate, I think.”

  “Black belt in the making, hmmm?”

  She chuckled. “She has a mean kick, I’ll tell you that.”

  “I’ve been meaning to ask how you’re feeling.”

  Her immediate glare had me almost backing up a step. “Not you, too!”

  “Whoa!” I waved my hands in the air in mock surrender. “We’re just worried about you.”

  She patted me on the shoulder, and I swear, I didn’t flinch. “Sorry, hormones. I go from crying to spitting mad in a matter of seconds. Tom doesn’t know whether to rub my feet or run away when he sees me.”

  “I won’t ask again.” I snuck a look at her. “But you’d tell me if there was anything—”

  She hushed me. “Yes, oh mighty Alpha, I would tell you if there was anything wrong.”

  A bark of laughter left me, echoing out over the silent morning. “Hey, where’s the respect?”

  “I’m sorry, I can’t hear you around my uterus right now. Can you please leave a message?” When I’d stopped laughing, she placed her hand on my shoulder, giving it a quick squeeze. “You’re doing a good job, you know.”

  I gave her a quizzical look and she tilted her chin up and squinted at me. “I know it’s your job to look after the pack and deal with everyone’s shit, but I wanted you to know that I’m grateful. And I don’t think people remember to tell you that they are too.”

  I straightened to standing, shuffling my feet until I faced her. “Julie, what’s all this about?”

  She sniffed and my eyes widened.

  “Julie—”

  “You saved my mate.”

  I was now wearing what Bree liked to call my oh shit face. I never knew what to do when faced with the threat of tears, but I faced it like a man, swallowing back the panic and bracing myself. “He’s like a brother to me.”

  “When he brought me here, to his—your—home, you didn’t even blink, just accepted me as one of your own. A cat living with wolves.” Her bottom lip trembled.

  Returning her earlier gesture, I squeezed her shoulder until she would meet my gaze. “Because you’re pretty awesome.”

  She laughed, swiping at her eyes.

  “And because you’re the mate of my brother. Sweetheart, I love you as if you were my own sister. We all do.”

  “And I love you guys too, which is why I’m so darn happy for you.” She threw her arms around me and my own pin-wheeled in the air before coming down to rest on her back, keeping my touch nice and light and gentle. Her voice was muffled by my shirt as she whispered, “You and Bree are so perfect for each other. You’re going to make each other very happy.”

  Patting her back and making hopefully appropriate noises in my throat, I gazed out into the forest, quietly accepting the calm and security that stole over me as my packmate offered me a small slice of hope.

  “I think so, too,” I eventually said.

  She sniffed again.

  “Wait. Did you just wipe snot on me?”

  With a giggle, she released me, retaking her spot against the railing. “Sure did, tough guy. Think of it as godfather training.”

  “Somehow, I don’t think you’re talking about the mafia?”

  She cursed under her breath, catchin
g herself mid-rant. “Sorry, I’m trying to quit for the baby. He didn’t ask you yet, did he?” She peered at me, as if daring me to lie.

  “Nope,” I replied, a grin spreading across my face.

  She nudged me with her shoulder. “So, what do you think, Alpha? Want to be our baby’s god parent?”

  Mouth dry, I had to swallow before I could speak. “I would be honored.”

  “Good. Because you and Bree will be amazing at the job.” She winced. “I’ve asked her, but she’s hasn’t been herself lately, preoccupied and with her head in the clouds.” This time her nudge came from her elbow, delivered straight to my gut. “Have you been wearing her out?”

  Shit. Better they all think that than start grilling her. “A man doesn’t kiss and tell.”

  “Good for you.” She winked at me. “Doesn’t mean us women don’t.”

  My mouth fell open.

  She wagged her finger at me, backing away with a mischievous grin. “One word: orgasm list.”

  “That’s two,” I shot back.

  “Awww, Owen, only two? You need to start trying harder!” She disappeared before I could think of a snappy comeback.

  I scratched my head. What the fuck was an orgasm list? And where could I get my hands on it?

  I caught up with Bree at breakfast. “Morning,” I murmured, stealing a slice of bacon off her plate and jumping out of the way of her hand when she tried to slap me.

  Pouting, she pointed her finger at me. “Uh huh, mine.”

  A couple of the guys chuckled, shooting amused glances at each other. “We know,” yelled Dylan, and Bree’s face flooded with color as she shook her head, hiding behind the cascade of hair that hung forward.

  Popping the crunchy bacon in my mouth, I sauntered into the living area, which was surprisingly empty, sat down, and waited.

  Footsteps followed me, her mouthwatering scent bursting through the doorway before she arrived. “Are you not eating breakfast?”