by Julia Mills
For about the hundredth time since she had left the office, she shook her head. What the hell was wrong with her? She wondered. She never went ‘silly girl’ over a guy. She always kept her cool, always. No matter how hot the guy was she never ever let her libido get the best of her. Now she was wondering what a total stranger’s lips would feel like touching hers and imagining what he looked like out of the low slung jeans hugging his incredible physique. Which led her to her next thought, what was he doing out in public in just a pair of jeans? It wasn’t winter but it was way too chilly to be showing that much skin.
Telling her ‘girly self’ that the time to admire the handsome stranger had passed, she decided to see if she could help the guy that had kept her from smacking her face on the sidewalk not once but twice. Kyndel placed two fingers on his neck to feel for a pulse. A spark, almost like an electrical shock, ran up her arm as her fingers made contact with the stranger’s skin. She also noticed how warm his skin was to the touch. Her eyes roamed farther down his body, no matter how hard she tried to keep them looking at his face. She tried to convince herself that it was to check for injuries but the little voice inside her head, that she had affectionately named ‘Catty Kyndel’ many years ago, would not let her get away with the deception. The truth was this man was hotter than homemade sin and she just could not keep her eyes from wondering. A few minutes of cajoling and ‘Catty Kyndel’ backed off.
Her inner monologue silenced, she carefully moved down his body until she straddled his thighs and continued to check him out with the guise of looking for injuries. She admired his massive shoulders and well defined chest with a light smattering of dark hair and a pair of completely lickable nipples that just happened to be pebbled from the cool breeze. Then her gaze landed on the absolutely amazing set of abs that her butt had been in intimate contact with just a few minutes before. She wondered how many hours a week he worked out. There was no way he had even an ounce of body fat but he was not bulky like the body builders in the fitness magazines. He was long and lean and perfectly proportioned. He looked like he could take on all the muscle heads at her gym without breaking a sweat all the while posing for the cover of GQ. The only problem she could see was that he was out cold and she was still straddling his lap while breaking her neck to ogle him in the middle of town.
Properly motivated by her own embarrassment, she scrambled up to get a closer look at her hero/patient. He hadn’t moved a muscle while she had removed her less than skinny butt from his lap in a very unladylike fashion. He lay completely still except for the rise and fall of his near perfect chest. She could not stop the images that swam through her mind of her and her rescuer in all types of compromising positions that up until that moment she would have said she was incapable of imagining with anyone she hadn’t known for a very long time.
She really needed to get this guy some help. After all he had kept her from face planting twice in just a few minutes. What was she going to do? He obviously had some injury she could not see. Someone as fit as he appeared to be did not just lie on the sidewalk, out cold, for no reason at all. There was definitely no way she could pick him up and carry him anywhere to get him the help he obviuosly needed. The guy was HUGE. He had to be at least 6’ 3” or 4” with muscles everywhere. She also remembered from First Aid class and everything her granny had taught her growing up, that you were not supposed to move an injured person unless you knew what was wrong and more importantly, only if you knew what you were doing. No matter how much she had assisted her granny in the little backwater town she grew up in, she most assuredly did not know what she was doing in this situation. She really hoped she hadn’t played a part in any of his injuries when he had helped her. She was not the lightest thing in the world after all and he had caught her in mid air, holding her suspended above the sidewalk for a few minutes. Maybe he was who she had heard moaning. He had come from the same direction, she was sure of it. As she sat there trying to decide what to do next, she realized his head was lying on the cold damp concrete. So much for helping the dude that helped her, she thought. Her greatest accomplishments so far had been to stare at him, feel him up and drool over his physique. The least she could do was get his head on something softer than the sidewalk. She reached in her satchel, grabbed her old sorority sweatshirt, wadded it up, knelt down next to his shoulder and reached forward to lift his head.
The touch of his hair had set her mind to wandering again. It was as soft as the satin of her favorite nightie. The splinters of light from the full moon coupled with the streetlights shining through the tree branches made it look like melted chocolate flowing over her hand. She wondered what it would look like in the light of day. Would it have highlights? Strands of lighter brown, red, even a few blonde streaks woven throughout making it glisten. There was absolutely no plausible explanation for the way this man’s presence made her inner girl stand up and take notice. Here she was, sitting on the sidewalk, late in the evening, gawking at a total stranger who happened to be out cold, comparing his hair to satin and wondering if it glistened. Never in her life had she reacted to anyone this way. She reached farther under his head and felt something warm, wet and sticky. When she pulled back her hand, even with little to no light, she knew it was blood.
She reached in her satchel and cursed. Here was a man that had helped her, bleeding from his head and she had no idea how bad the wound was. To make matters worse, her damn cell phone was plugged into the cigarette lighter in her car with Grace. This man definitely needed medical attention. The only thing she could think to do was to run and get help. She was sure he would be ok, he had made it this long but head wounds were nothing to be taken lightly. She would only be gone five minutes at the most. The corner store was less than a block away. Surely they would let her use the phone. It was an emergency, after all.
Something deep inside told her she had to help him that he had to be ok. She could not get a grip on the reason why this guy was so important to her, she just knew he was. She felt it in ways that were unexplainable, like the feelings people get right before big storms or before they win the lottery. Besides, if her granny had still been around, the elder Masterson would kick her butt if she didn’t help someone who needed it. Even though Granny had passed years ago, Kyndel could still hear her voice like she was standing next to her, “Kyndel, it’s our calling to help those in need.” She looked at the biggest, most handsome man she had ever seen, still lying completely motionless and reasoned that no one would mess with this behemoth of a man, even in his present condition. Someone desperate would only be after his wallet and she figured he did not have a wallet to steal since he didn't even have shoes. The thought of making sure he didn’t have anything worth stealing crossed her mind but then decided she would never be able to explain her hand on his butt if he woke up at that precise moment. The way her luck was going, that was exactly what would happen. Her cheeks warmed at the thought of touching him again, anywhere.
More questions than answers sprung up in her mind. Why was he out at night in just a pair of jeans? What had happened to his head? Had he made the noises she had heard coming from the park? And most of all, why did he make her feel things that she had never felt before? She was pretty sure he wouldn’t have the answer to the last question. Whether he did or didn’t, any answer he had would have to wait until he woke up. Her focus needed to be on getting him some help and getting it fast.
Reassured that she was making the right decision, she hooked her satchel back over her shoulder and turned in the direction of the corner store. Before she could take her first step, the same huge warm hand that had been wrapped around her body earlier was wrapped around her ankle. Again an electrical shock shot through her body from the skin to skin contact with this stranger. She squeaked in fright, twisting the best she could to look into a pair of heavily lidded violet eyes. Well, at least he was awake.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Thank the heavens he had woken up in time. There was absolutely no way he could l
et her get away. No matter how much his body needed to shut down and heal, he had to keep her safe and with him. She would surely have been kidnapped, raped or worse by the guy that was following her, had Rayne not caught sight of them when he was flying over. Not to mention the hunters lying in wait to capture and kill anyone they sensed may be important to his clan. Once again Fate and the Universe had stepped in to make sure he was in the right place at the right time.
He didn’t usually fly so close to civilization without a very good reason that usually included the threat of bodily harm or death to someone he was charged with protecting. However, tonight something had pulled his dragon and by association, him, to the city as soon as the sun had set. A something so strong that it would not be denied, it had been that way for weeks. Every time he took flight, a battle between he and his dragon began. The beast would use his considerable might to force their flight path towards the city, the very direction he had finally flown tonight.
The need his dragon pushed into the forefront of his mind was like a plea for both of them to be in the right place at the right time and it created a burning need within him. Rayne felt as though his beast was hunting something that the man did not know existed. The massive predator that shared his soul had caught a scent and would not be denied his prey. No matter how much Rayne cajoled or tried to distract, his dragon persisted. The battle of wills continued nightly, escalating until this night, when Rayne could no longer deny his dragon what he so desperately desired.
He was worried by the discord he and the dragon within were experiencing. The trust between the warrior and his beast was paramount to their relationship. They shared everything. Nothing between them was ever a secret or a surprise. One being always knew what the other wanted or needed. But this time was different. Rayne had no idea what it was his dragon was seeking, no matter how extensively he searched their unbreakable connection. For the first time that he could ever remember, aside from the week of his transformation, his beast knew something he did not and was demanding that the man give in to the his desires. The overwhelming need to find something encompassed their every shared thought. The beast had used his unparalleled strength to override the man’s wishes, something that had not happened in all their years together.
He thought back to the first week that he and his dragon were fully integrated. The learning period was difficult but with both strong willed entities striving for the same goal, the outcome was perfect, two warriors, in sync, sharing the same space. These incredibly virtuous soldiers were always in agreement or at least open to compromise.
That was the way it was for all dragon shifters, especially members of the Dragon Guard. The transformation to integrate the dragon completely with the man happened between the ages of eighteen and twenty-one. Once completed, these two champions would share the same space and the dragon would have the ability to come forward when called. In a matter of mere days, the dragon and man formed a single sentient being. The man welcomed the awakening of the dragon, the other being that will share his skin. It made no difference to Rayne that the other being was a 1000 pound dragon with the ability to breathe fire and fly through the sky. He was proud to share who he was with an incredibly regal red and golden dragon that had an amazing wing span, a roughly ridged brow and spines running down his thick corded neck. He knew from their combined memories that his dragon had defended his clan with unending loyalty for thousands of years before integration became imperative to protect their species.
The only outward sign that the transformation had taken place and that the warrior was now a fully mature dragon shifter was the brand of the man’s dragon now visible on the his body. It had always been there, though difficult to see. As the man grew, so did the dragon brand, taking shape and becoming more identifiable. This mark of honor would lay flat and resemble a faded tattoo unless man or beast experienced extreme emotions. In those times, the brand raised from his skin and the colors became more vibrant, an exact duplicate of the true dragon. The only other time these two beings would feel anything close to their awakening would be when they found their mate, the one person the Universe had designed just for them. This woman would become the final and most integral part of the union between man and beast. She would complete the connection making them truly whole. She was the softness to their strength, giving the two beings love, acceptance, peace and most importantly the balance they needed to continue their mission.
Rayne had heard stories from mated pairs of the Elders of his clan since he was a young boy, describing how their dragon had sensed ‘the one the Universe made for them’ before the man even knew she existed. He had always thought that was a fairy tale told around the campfire to romanticize mates. He could not imagine not knowing the other half of his heart and soul was nearby. He was incredibly observant, one of the best strategists and trackers in the history of their clan. He just knew he would know if his mate was anywhere nearby. None of his reminiscing helped determine why he and his dragon were out of sync. He had decided this was the night to figure out what was going on before they both went crazy and it affected his duties. The division of his focus and concentration distracted him and quite frankly made him antsy. In some ways this was worse than the week of his transformation, the feeling of discord between man and beast that he had never experienced before was wearing thin on the incredible patience Rayne had honed over his hundred and nineteen years. Nothing else he tried worked. His dragon demanded to fly over the city and this night he gave the beast what he wanted.
That led him to recall the very distracting dreams he had been experiencing. Every night he dreamt of a tall curvy redhead with amazingly expressive emerald eyes. He had become so addicted to these wonderfully erotic dreams that he counted the hours until he could sleep again. In his dreams even her scent called to him. She smelled of flowers in the meadow after a spring rain, so fresh and clean. That scent alone filled him with the feeling of home and gave him an incredible sense of belonging that until the dreams he hadn’t known. He dreamt of the feel of this incredible woman’s hands on his body touching and discovering his skin, her soft perfect lips tasting and teasing until they were both in a frenzy of want and need. He craved the feel of her satin soft skin under his hands, her sweet breath on his neck, the incredible sounds he knew she would make as he pulled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger and then his lips. He woke up every morning with the taste of her sweet nectar on his tongue and an erection that rivaled any he’d had in his youth. He had never known it was possible for a dream to be so real.
So when the scent of flowers in the meadow after a spring rain had filled his nostrils, he had almost fallen out of the sky. He had never expected to scent his mate as he flew over a patch of trees amid all the concrete and pollution of the city. He had circled closer and closer, zeroing in on the tantalizing scent. The man and his beast snapped back into sync like the past weeks had never occurred. They were reveling in the fact that they had found their mate when Rayne spotted a man staying to the shadows, trying not to be noticed. His emotions went from bliss to anger instantly as he realized this obvious criminal followed her, his mate. His enhanced vision only confirmed what her scent had already told him, she was the woman from his dreams. Her long red tresses and mouth watering curves were unmistakable. His vision narrowed until all he could see was the dirt bag intent on harming his woman. The man’s scent overrode the beautiful aroma of fresh flowers in the meadow and burnt his nose with the stink of aggression, anger, and filth. The black clothing he wore and the knife he concealed in his jacket pocket only further enraged Rayne as he realized this one liked to inflict pain. There was no way he could let the deviant touch the beautiful woman from his dreams.
Without a thought of his surroundings or who might see a 1000 pound dragon, he dove from the sky shifting back to his human form as he descended. His only thought was for the safety of the woman that haunted his thoughts every hour of every day and night. He hit the ground running on silent feet, launched hi
mself onto the back of her would be attacker snapping his neck in one swift move. He pulled the body into the shadows and turned, looking for his woman to make sure she was unharmed and unaware. It was then a searing pain tore through his shoulder at the same time he heard the whoosh of an arrow zing past his ear. There was only one group that could be responsible, his kin’s oldest and most deadly enemies, the hunters. He had been so awestruck with the thought of finding his mate and then focused on saving her that he had abandoned all his training and the protocol of the Dragon Guard. He had not scented the area or opened his senses to any other danger that might be present and now had been caught in a trap. There was no time to worry about the mistakes he had made and he knew he wouldn’t act any differently if he had it to do again. From the burn ripping through his body he knew they were using silver tipped arrows. Of course, this group of misguided zealots had perfected 101 ways to kill dragon shifters with silver, knowing it was the one true way aside from taking the shifter’s head to assure a forever death.
