Knight Awakened (Circle of Seven #1)

by Coreene Callahan

  “Her kind imprisoned us in dragon form,” he said, the fury in his eyes telling.

  Her kind? Xavian’s eyes narrowed. Were there more like her? “’Twas not Afina’s doing though, was it, dragon?”

  Garren looked away, expression tight, his huge hands curled into fists.

  His arms wrapped tight around Afina, Xavian prepared to move. He needed to get her out of range if Garren lost control. His anger was so great it swirled in the air around him. Xavian understood that kind of rage; felt it himself for Halál. But Afina didn’t deserve it. Instinct told him she’d had naught to do with what happened to Garren and his comrades.

  “Hristo.” His expression fierce, Tareek knelt beside Henrik.

  Xavian palmed the dagger high on his chest. If the bastard made another move toward his friend he would be wearing a blade on the side of his head instead of an ear.

  “Relax, Xavian,” the redhead said without looking away from Henrik. “I wish to inspect his wound, nothing more.”

  The blade perched between Xavian’s fingertips wobbled. “He isn’t—”

  “No.” With gentle hands, Tareek tilted his friend’s head to inspect the gash on his temple. “Shit, Garren. Did you have to hit the lad so hard?”

  “He isn’t a lad anymore, Tareek.” Garren threw the redhead an annoyed look.

  Tareek prodded the cut then lifted one of Henrik’s eyelids. “Jesus...a sleeping spell too?”

  Garren shrugged. “He was trying to kill me.”

  “Still...” Tareek scowled. “Didn’t need to hit him so hard.”

  “Old habits die hard.” Returning his attention to Xavian, Garren tilted his head in the redhead’s direction. “Tareek was Henrik’s boyhood guard. He is still rather protective.”

  Breathing in through his nose, Xavian exhaled through his mouth, gratitude and relief a mixed bag inside his head. Henrik was alive and...

  His gaze narrowed on Garren. The picture of innocence, the wily bastard met his gaze and the suspicion in it head-on. Xavian gritted his teeth. Jesu, they were trying to distract him. Tareek’s interruption had been too well timed.

  “Well done, dragon. ’Twas a good diversion, but not nearly clever enough.” Xavian stroked his hand along Afina’s thigh. A soft puff of air wafted across the base of his throat. He held his breath and waited, praying he wasn’t imagining it. Her chest moved a wee bit, and the strange current he’d felt in the brambles sizzled to life. ’Twas faint, but the more he caressed her, the stronger it became until the hairs on his forearms stirred. The tangle around his heart loosened as he siphoned the flow, taking all Afina gave him.

  His hand in her hair, he massaged the nape of her neck. He tipped his chin in Garren’s direction. “Going to answer my question?”

  “Which one?”

  “Who is to blame, Garren?”

  Stone-faced, the man-dragon shook his head. The twin streaks at his temples glinted blue in the weak light.

  “Tell me the truth,” Xavian said, pushing for an answer. Afina couldn’t be responsible. She was too gentle. Even when she’d used her magic to protect him, she hadn’t hurt Tareek, merely tossed him out of the way. “Are there others like Afina?”

  “Not anymore.”

  “Then who?”

  “Her mother...Ylenia.” Garren spat the name like poison through clenched teeth and a mouthful of distaste. “We are half-human, Xavian...each of us born to a human female. Aye, we change form at will, but we have always been human on the inside. We feel the same things you do. Have the same emotions. Feel the same pain.

  “Being in dragon form too long robs us of that...of our humanity. We were made to do things to others...to innocents and...you cannot imagine...Have you any idea how painful it is to be trapped and unable to change back?”

  “You cannot blame Afina for another’s crime,” Xavian said, understanding Garren’s pain and the misery that came with it. He’d been forced to do all kinds of things he’d rather forget, but he needed to make his point. ’Twas vital Garren accept the truth. If he didn’t, Afina would never be safe. “You wish to make your home with me? Let it go and start anew.”

  “As you have done with Halál?”

  “Christ.” The name crawled up Xavian’s spine. His hands stilled on Afina, and he glared at Garren from beneath his brows.

  His gaze steady, Garren plucked a blade of grass from its root. “Turnabout is fair play.”

  Fair play. Hell, there was naught fair about the old man. “You serve me now, true?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I will have your promise you will treat her with respect. And...” He paused for effect, his gaze boring into a violet one. “You will protect her when I cannot.”

  “Shit.”

  “Your word.”

  With a flick of his wrist, Garren tossed the blade of grass aside. “You have it.”

  Even though the pledge was growled, Xavian believed him. Garren might not like it, but he would respect his wishes and make the others do the same.

  “She is still pale.” Cupping Afina’s cheek, he tipped her chin up to study her face. The current hummed between them now. Her heartbeat was stronger too. Still, he wasn’t satisfied. He wouldn’t be until she opened her eyes. “Tell me what else I can do to help her.”

  “’Twould be better if you were skin to skin.” A frown in his voice, Garren looked to the sky. Thunder rumbled, a threatening growl to the north. “We need to get you to shelter so you may service her properly.”

  Xavian’s brows collided. Service her? Hell, no chance that would happen. If Garren thought he’d bed Afina while she lay unconscious, he had miscalculated...badly. Even so, the comment gave him an idea. Shifting Afina in his arms, he dragged the cloak from beneath her bottom. Still boneless, she sagged against his chest while he wrenched the tunic from her trews. His hand found the soft skin along her spine. Her muscles twitched. He curled his arm around her, pressing his skin to hers as his palm cupped her rib cage. Her chest rose, each breath fuller than the last.

  “Your exit strategy?” Garren asked, pushing to his feet, his eyes still on the sky. Thick clouds were blowing in, reducing the moon to a faint glow. Stars blinked, playing hide-and-seek behind the billowy edges.

  “A boat,” Xavian said, rearranging his mantle around Afina. “The ferrier’s dock lies inside the cavern at the end of the beach.”

  “Any swimming involved?”

  “Some.”

  Tareek cursed.

  Garren grimaced.

  “I will go,” Cruz said, joining the conversation at last. Garren threw him a measured look. The lad tossed a perturbed one back. “What? I am a better swimmer than either of you.”

  “True enough.” With a nod, Garren slapped the lad’s shoulder. “Go. We will follow on foot.”

  Cruz retreated until he stood twenty feet away. He took a deep breath and, between one heartbeat and the next, transformed. Green scales gleamed, appearing black without the light of the moon as the dragon unfurled his wings and leapt skyward.

  Xavian went tense around Afina. “Jesu.”

  “You’ll become accustomed to it...” Garren trailed off, his tone more wary than amused, “...in time.”

  On his feet now with Afina cradled in his arms, Xavian tipped his chin at Tareek. “You carrying Henrik?”

  In answer, the redhead slung Henrik over his shoulder and stood. Xavian shook his head. Jesus, the added weight barely fazed the man-dragon.

  “Got the horses,” Garren said from behind him.

  Xavian nodded, uneasiness riding him like a whore. Afina was still so weak. Ice cold against him, her heartbeat flickered, a slow, sluggish pulse that made his go still. He needed to get her to safety, somewhere he could have her skin to skin. He only prayed Garren spoke true and his nearness would save her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  The smell of dead fish was the first thing Afina noticed. Well, that and the fact her head hurt. The throb hammered the back of her skull, urging her to g
o back to sleep. She tried then gave up. The idiot birds were arguing again.

  More of a caw than a twitter.

  She breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth. Repeated the process then cracked her eyelids. Sunlight nailed her between the eyes. With a gasp, she rolled her face into something soft. A fur throw? She didn’t know and refused to look. She wasn’t brave enough. The pain from her first attempt was still radiating between her temples.

  Cool air drifted over the curve of her shoulder. With a shiver, she pulled her knees in tight, battling the chill. The plush surface she lay on pitched to one side then rolled to the other, the movement more a lullaby than a jig as something flapped overhead.

  “Draga?” Warm and deep, the voice drew her like a bathtub full of hot suds. “You awake?”

  Afina brought her knees in a little closer. Why was it so cold? Another case of shivers attacked an instant before something warm brushed over her shoulder. She followed it, wiggling backward until the source gloved her spine. Oh, the heat was lovely. Better than anything she’d ever felt.

  “Love?”

  A gentle nudge rolled her onto her back. She cracked her lids, moaned, and shut them again. But the brief glimpse was enough to clue her in. “Xavian?”

  “Aye.” Calloused fingers drifted: over her temple, along her jaw, across her bottom lip only to stop at her chin. Gentle but sure, they tipped her face up. “Look at me.”

  “No.” She grimaced. Her voice wasn’t working any better than her eyes.

  “Come on, love.” His tone coaxed. His hand massaged, drawing warm circles on the curve of her hip. “Open for me.”

  “Hurts.”

  “I know. ’Twill for a while, but I need to see their color.”

  With a grumble, she cracked her lids. Sunlight blazed, piercing through to the back of her brain. Afina turned her face away, fighting him and the pain, wishing both would leave her in peace.

  “Easy,” Xavian murmured as he brought her back. She pushed at his shoulders. He cupped her face and, ignoring her halfhearted struggle, set his thumbs at the corners of her eyes. Applying gentle pressure, he coaxed her into opening them.

  She blinked, struggling to find focus.

  “Thank Christ...hazel.” After a rough exhale, he leaned in to kiss her eyelids. His mouth was gentle, his breath warm, and Afina sighed as he murmured, “You are much better.”

  Better? Afina frowned. It didn’t feel any better. “Where?”

  “On a boat.”

  “Don’t like boats,” she croaked, wrinkling her nose. Well, that explained the awful smell and the urge to throw up. Boats rocked, and rocking didn’t agree with her.

  “I know.” His eyes crinkled at the corners. “You told me, remember?”

  Afina grumbled, wanting to smack him for laughing at her. But her arms weren’t on board with the plan, so she switched focus, retreating into her mind. A memory tugged at her. Vague at first, it gathered speed until a clear image floated through the mist.

  Her breath caught. Swallowing past her sore throat, she said, “Are they all right...the dragons?”

  Xavian stroked her temples, massaging with the pads of his thumbs. She groaned. His hands were magic, releasing the tension one string at a time. He kept at it until the last thread loosened and she went boneless in his arms.

  “The dragon-shifters are fine. Henrik too,” he said, kissing the tip of her nose.

  As he lifted his head, her lips curved all by themselves. It was sweet, really, him kissing her nose: platonic, unthreatening, soothing. He was such a good man—a gentle one despite his aggressive nature and terrible skill with a blade.

  “They’ve gone now?” Forcing strength into her limbs, she raised her hand to set her fingertips to his mouth. She followed the bottom curve, marveling at its softness.

  He nipped at the tips. “Nay. You were right. They were after me.”

  “B-but—”

  “’Tis all right.” Blue eyes glinting beneath his lashes, he dipped his head. His whiskers brushed over her skin, making her shiver, making her want more as his mouth burned a path along her collarbone. “They are no longer a threat. They are sworn to protect me...bound by some sort of spell on parchment.”

  Like hot cider on a cold day, his voice sank deep, warming her from the inside out. Tendrils of desire stirred, awakening the memory of them in the stables. She wanted to feel that again. Let him take her back to that place where nothing mattered but the two of them.

  Shifting beneath him, she kissed his shoulder, tasting his skin. “What parchment?”

  “Don’t know,” he murmured against her throat. With a flick, he laved her pulse point then suckled, drawing gently on her skin. “Don’t care right now.”

  Bliss swirled, telling her not to care either. But something wasn’t right. With the information...not with Xavian. He was incredible. Hard and strong and so hot he...Good goddess, she really needed to stay focused. What had he said? Oh, yes. Something about a spell on parchment. The combination of words popped the top off a memory and—

  Xavian cupped the back of her knee and lifted, up and to the side. He pressed in, sliding his thigh between her own, spreading her legs until hard muscle touched her core. She gasped, overwhelmed by sensation as her breasts brushed his chest. With a groan, he gathered her closer, teasing her nipples until she ached for more of his touch. For the heat of his mouth.

  “Ah, Xavian?”

  “Uh-hmm.”

  “Something’s not right...with the dragons.”

  “You think?”

  “I just...I’m not sure, o-oh...” she trailed off as Xavian moved south: hot mouth on her skin, calloused hand stroking the curve of her behind. “Can you trust them? I mean, really?”

  “Aye.” He kissed the hollow between her breasts. “It’s all good, love.”

  “Promise me you’ll be careful.” She smoothed her hand over his shoulders. “With the dragons. I don’t know who sent them or if you can trust them.”

  “’Twill be fine, love,” he said, kissing the crease between her brows.

  “Promise me.”

  He held her gaze a moment then nodded. She breathed out in relief as his focus shifted away from her face. It touched down on the moon-star that marred the curve of her shoulder. He traced it with his fingertip. “So pretty.”

  Afina blinked. Pretty? Really? She’d always thought of it as an ugly stain—something she wanted to scrub off, a great shame that needed to be hidden from view. But as his mouth brushed over her birthmark, she forced herself to see it through his eyes. It wasn’t so bad if she looked at it that way. She would never think it was “pretty,” but if nothing else, the mark symbolized something greater than herself. It made her take stock and reevaluate. It made her believe she had a choice. She wasn’t doomed to be like her mother—freeing the dragons had taught her that. She could decide what she wanted to be and fate would follow.

  The realization lightened her heart, and grateful for the man in her arms as much as the lesson, she turned into Xavian. His whiskers pricked her and sensation spiraled as she curled her arms around his neck. He murmured, kissed the moon-star again, and hugged her back.

  Unable to help herself, her hands found the curling ends at the nape of his neck. She loved his hair: the color, its softness, how the thick strands played between her fingers. Afina set her mouth to the corner of his and whispered, “You’re all right? Not hurt?”

  He shook his head and accepted her kiss, eyes glinting beneath dark lashes. “You are the one who was hurt, Afina.”

  “I’ll recover,” she said, knowing it was true. Each kiss—each of his caresses—eased the burden. The stiffness in her muscles was fading and her headache, though still present, didn’t seem so terrible.

  “You had better.”

  She huffed, enjoying his rough tone and the threat in it. It told her plainly he cared for her. Had been worried, and for some reason, she liked his concern almost as much as his body against hers.
/>   “Are you laughing at me?”

  “A little.” She smiled, daring him to retaliate for her audacity.

  “Wench,” he whispered, wielding the word like an endearment.

  Dipping his head, he nipped her upper lip, demanding entrance. She opened, welcoming him in with a sigh. He tasted like moonbeams and shadows; a dark decadence that nourished even as it stripped her of pride. Had he demanded it, she would have begged for him, brought herself low for the simple pleasure of holding him, heart to heart and skin to skin.

  The fact she was naked beneath the blanket should have shocked her. After all, good girls didn’t wake up bare bottomed in a man’s bed. At least not without the benefit of a marriage ceremony. But Afina was tired of being good. In truth, the only good thing she wanted at the moment was to be very, very bad with Xavian.

  The imp in her roared with approval and set about making a plan.

  “Ah, question for you.” She drew away a little, following her imp’s advice. The need to tease him—the way a woman did a man—was too much to resist.

  “Hmm?” Denied the pleasure of her mouth, he changed direction, finding the sensitive spot behind her ear.

  Her breath hitched, and she gave in to a shiver. “Any reason I haven’t got a stitch on?”

  “Same reason I don’t.”

  “Which is?”

  “I needed to be skin to skin with you.”

  His hand slid down to cup her bottom, caressed with a light touch, making her pay for teasing him. Pleasure hummed, and without shame she wrapped her calf over his hip and rolled against the hard muscle between her thighs. He returned to her mouth, delving deep, tangling their tongues, delivering his taste one delicious stroke at a time. Taking all he gave her, she anchored her hands in his hair and opened wide to appease him.

  “Jesu,” he said against her mouth.

  Cords of muscle bunched beneath her hands. Afina caught her breath. The sheer strength in his arms, the hard flex of his shoulders, the ripple of his chest...Goddess, it made her head spin. But even as she reveled in the feel of him, he retreated, straightening his arms to break away from her. She tried to hold on, to bring him back, but he locked his elbows, hovering above her. Twin flames flickered in his eyes, half desire, half desperation.