Games of Fate (Fate ~ Fire ~ Shifter ~ Dragon #1)

by Kris Austen Radcliffe

  She tried to wiggle free but he didn’t let go.

  “Tell me why.”

  She shook her head.

  “Why?”

  She wouldn’t look at him. He’d ripped the top off a train for her. He’d destroyed Burners for her. If he said those three words, he’d solidify his actions and he’d die. “Don’t. Please—”

  “I love you.”

  Her breath lumped into a hard pellet above her heart. He shouldn’t do this. She pushed at his arms but he held tight.

  He stroked her cheek. “You need to hear it. You need me to say it and it’s the truth, Rysa. Dragon’s loved you from the first moment you touched his snout. I can’t live without you. I haven’t been able to since Marcus’s.” The jumbled line of his lips mirrored the inflection of his voice.

  “You can’t know that. You can’t be sure. No one—”

  “Yes, I can! I’m old enough to know the difference between infatuation and desire and honest love. With you, I’ve finally found a reason to walk this earth. We absolutely, utterly love you.”

  She’d more than snared him. She’d jammed the hook so deep into his throat that if he pulled it out, it would drag his innards with it. “I’m leaving, Ladon. Now. Right now.” He’d take care of her mother. If she vanished into the wilderness, maybe he’d take care of himself.

  Groaning, he swung her legs up and jostled her in his arms, his anger disorienting her balance.

  He tossed her to get a better grip when she came down. “You are the most willful woman I have ever known. You are more willful than Sister and I thought that was impossible. You are willful to the point of extreme irritation.”

  “Willful? I’m not some damsel you need to rescue.” She slapped his shoulder.

  Anger flared his nostrils. “You slap like one.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “Put me down! Stop acting like a caveman!”

  “You stoop to your uncle’s manipulations and it’s your decision—” He scowled and tossed her again. “—but when I lay bare my heart I’m a caveman who’s oppressing you?”

  “Damn it, Ladon—”

  “I’m sick of you saying cruel things to push me away. I don’t like it and you’re going to stop doing it.” A small tic moved across his cheek.

  She hadn’t realized how much her words injured him.

  “I’ve spent centuries with women. I know exactly what you are doing and it still cuts me. You do it and parts of my soul break off because you are the center of our world. You are the center of everything and I love you.”

  “Ladon—” If she kept him at a distance, he’d not hurt as much if she became a Burner.

  “You feel the same way I do. You told me, in the park. You said ‘the men I love.’” His nostrils flared again, his mouth twitching. “I’m the man you love. Me. I know because of the way your soul opens when you look at me. In how you respond when I touch you.” His lips set into a hard line. “I brought you to three orgasms.”

  Her mouth rounded. “Put me down.”

  “Not until you tell me how you feel. Tell me what you want. Tell me the real future, not the one your uncle forced into your head.”

  “Ladon, it doesn’t—”

  “Yes it does!” He swung her legs around so she faced him and scooped a hand under her bottom. “Tell me.”

  She shook her head, refusing to look at his face.

  Three quick steps and he pressed her back against the stone wall next to a settee, between the end of the long piece of furniture and an alcove full of huge pillar candles. “Say it.” His mouth traced her jaw and her earlobe. “Damn it, you’re going to admit it. This weight you carry will kill you if you don’t push it off. You are no one’s tribute.”

  She didn’t have the strength to argue. Not with him.

  “You are not alone.” His lips traced her ear. “Dragon and I will help you. We love you.”

  He ground his hips against hers in a slow, tight circle. This moment with him pushed back her uncle’s injection. Her nasty focused her senses on his warm scent, on the way his lips trailed over her neck, on how his teeth tickled her skin.

  Before she saw the inevitable, when she believed that she was only locked to the Burners, she let herself feel the tingle when he stroked her arm. To enjoy his company and to talk about field work and caves and the land in the places they’d lived. But also to talk about her education and what she wanted to do and her life before all this happened.

  Though he was immortal and he’d seen everything and lived through more than she could imagine, he wanted to learn about her as much as she wanted to learn about him.

  He kissed her with enough force to pull her breath from her body. “All the lies about us ending the world infuriate me but the thought of losing you turns my blood to ice.” He touched her temple. “So you are going to tell me what you want. Not the other Fates. You.”

  She wanted to finish school and work a real job and clear the flowerbeds while he mowed the lawn. Most importantly, she wanted Ladon and Dragon.

  She closed her eyes. Her voice disappeared and only her mouth formed her words. “You and Dragon, you mean more to me than anything. More than my own life.”

  “Dragon has two humans. You are my mate and nothing’s going to change that.” He kissed her again, his free hand finding a breast. “I know you love me. Say it.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” What she wanted, what he wanted. The Jani triads of Empire and Strategy overran her Burnerized life.

  He pulled his chest back but continued to hold her against the wall with his hips. “It mattered when you didn’t let me tell you how I feel.”

  She sniffled, confused.

  “It mattered because words hold power. They change possibilities. They change what will happen,” Ladon said.

  “Words aren’t magic.” Voicing a wish didn’t change what-will-be.

  “It’s not magic. It’s will. Dragon and I choose you.” He kissed her again, his body holding her steady.

  Will. Something the Dracae had in spades. They moved the unmovable and carved this beautiful home into a mountain. They had the strength to battle the inevitable.

  Maybe… maybe he was right. Maybe they could bring her through this. “You choose me?” His will manifested in the small circles his fingers drew on her skin and in the trickle of energy tickling her senses even as Dragon slept.

  “Yes. We choose you. I choose you. And I will have what I want, fate be damned.”

  The threads rewove, altering. His strength flowed through his touch and pushed back the pain in her skull.

  “Dragon and I, we will give you the life you want,” he said. “Always.”

  Her terror melted, and with it, the hold on her soul. “My love.” Her lips met his in a brilliant kiss.

  He tugged at her jeans, his response instantaneous. Groaning in frustration, he pulled back, searching for the zipper.

  She wanted his skin and his hands and his mouth on hers. She yanked at his t-shirt and he fumbled it over his head. He twisted her shirt and seams gave way, threads splitting across her belly. Up and over her head, its tatters landed on the floor next to his.

  He ripped at her bra. “Off!”

  She unhooked it and he whipped it away.

  Lifting her again, he held her with his mouth at her chest and her bare back against the cool granite.

  “Tell me.” His animal need took over. “Say it!” His tongue found her nipple and her back arched.

  “I want you alive and in love with me.” More dread evaporated. She had a dragon, for goodness sake. A dragon who could stand against anything.

  “Say it again.” His mouth devoured hers before she could answer. “I want to hear you say it. I want to know you mean it.” The zipper on her jeans released and he tugged the fabric down her hips.

  “I mean it. I—oh!”

  He grasped the fabric of her panties and yanked. They split, ripping into several pieces as he pulled them off her feet. “Swear it!” He unbuttoned his je
ans and she pushed them down. “You will not die. Do you understand, Rysa? We will not lose you.”

  He entered her and she bucked against the wall. A deep moan pushed from her core and her nails dug into his shoulders. Shudders rippled through every muscle when he thrust deeper and he responded in kind, every part of him vibrating.

  “Tell me how you feel. Tell me the truth.” He thrust again as he nipped below her earlobe.

  She couldn’t speak. No words formed. She kissed him instead.

  Holding her hips, he dropped to the edge of the settee, thrusting as they landed. “Tell me!”

  Every inch of her skin against his felt alive. Every kiss traveling over his chin and neck bonded them tighter together. Their need building, he flipped her onto her back and pulled her thighs up toward his chest. He moaned and his pace increased.

  His gaze intense, she could see he wanted to say more, to demand a response again, but no more words left his throat. He said it all with his body: his need, his love.

  His hurt.

  “I’m sorry for the terrible things I said.” Was this what it meant to be Parcae? To inflict on others what fate demanded because that was just how it was? Many of the behaviors Tom had done to her—the cutting off of her emotions and the little, mean things to force her away—she’d done to Ladon.

  It didn’t matter what fate dealt out. She’d never again say words that hurt him.

  One arm wrapped tight around her hips. His other arm flexed as he lowered her to the pillows. “You are not… going… to leave us….”

  “I’m not. I won’t. Ladon!” The orgasm flooded through her, her fingers twisting into the pillows. Her nasty dipped in, not siphoning, but sharing.

  His eyes fluttered and his lips parted. The deep, dragon rumble erupted from his chest as elation burst through all his muscles. His core contracted and his back arched. He dropped down, unable to hold himself up.

  “I love you.” Her voice filled the void she’d forced between them and she opened herself to everything he and Dragon offered. “I love both of you. I love the man and I love the dragon and I choose you. You are the fate I choose. You. Only you, for as long as you want me.”

  He groaned, the one sound his throat released. Another spasm, as strong as the first, rocked through his body and she kissed the spot on his chest that made him resonate. His core contracted again, the pleasure radiating in tight bursts from his abdomen to his limbs. Slow waves moved across his skin and through the rasping moans pushing between their renewed kisses.

  He halted mid-inhale as another spasm played sideways through each distinct muscle of his stomach and chest. Jaw tense, his back arched again.

  “Ladon!” She clenched his hair, her body reflecting the spasms rocking his.

  “I… oh…” He kissed her deeply, his entire body responding.

  His climax still pounded, and now it rumbled. The sound filled the cavern, echoing to her ears moments after it flooded her body. The first time it happened, in the van, it had warmed her soul. This time, it warmed everything, including the harshness of the spike and the coldness she’d forced between them.

  Pleasure twined with love, colored with burgundies and violets, and a new orgasm rocketed to all her cells. She lost all sense of the world, of time. Ladon’s love filled all of her and when he touched her cheek, she opened her eyes to the joy filling his, bright and real.

  “This is our truth.”

  She kissed his forehead and traced the slope of his ear. “Yes.” Their truth. Hers, his, and Dragon’s too, when the beast awoke.

  Ladon’s breathing steadied and he moved out of her but stayed entwined, his legs wrapped in hers and his arms tight around her waist. Kissing her jaw, he tucked his face into the crook of her neck.

  This man and the beast bound to him were worth fighting for. They were worth pushing against the future and taking on the inevitable. If she lost, if the fate forced as a spike in her head came to pass, she’d have this time with them. “Yes, it is.”

  A flash: another crater. She winced. This time, though, she tightened her arms around the man she loved.

  He touched her temple. “I will fight every Fate and I will destroy every Burner who threatens you. And I will find a Shifter who will return your control.”

  Her eyes closed but she traced the lines and planes of his face. She wouldn’t lose them. Fate be damned, they were the future she wanted, no matter how badly her uncle’s injection hurt.

  The spike still distorted her seers and menaced both her and Ladon with death, but she breathed here, now, in the present. “Thank you.” She could fight. “Thank you, my love.”

  ***

  Her eyes joyful, her body naked and exquisite, he led her deeper into the baths. When he pulled her under the shower fed by the waterfall, she bounced, her happiness palpable. His smiles didn’t stop, didn’t decrease even with her excitement, and she kissed him, wide-eyed at his response. When he smoothed his hand over her waist and settled his fingers into hers, she caressed his hands and wrapped her arms tight around his chest.

  The water cascaded over their shoulders and they washed the river from each other. Her expression opened to him again, her face giving him everything he’d seen when she was in her visions: union, intimacy, friendship. Passion. And a pure, purposeful tenderness meant for only him.

  They made love again. He held her against the stone wall, her hips balanced on the shower’s ledge. His voice left him but he whispered, unable to stop the words that rolled from his heart: Love you. Beautiful one. My beloved. My mate. Mine.

  Yes… It flowed from her, melding to him. Yes. And when she kissed the spot on his chest, he rumbled with such fierceness the sound drowned the rush of the cavern’s water.

  Love you.

  Now she slept with her back to him, a borrowed pair of Derek’s pajamas ballooning around her middle. Mira slept on the other side of her daughter, her back also to Ladon.

  He nestled closer. All of Rysa’s physical wounds had healed. The cut on her arm was nothing more than a thin line. He’d pulled the stitches in the bath. Billy’s last marks looked like they’d been healing for weeks, not hours.

  So had his. A cut from the fight with the War Babies had all but vanished. No welt, no line. Nothing. He healed much faster than a normal, but after less than a day, he should be able to see a mark.

  Ladon raised himself on an elbow and peered at Mira. Rysa had cleaned up her mother in the van, bandaging every place that the damned Burner had licked her skin. Ladon couldn’t see her wounds. Yet her color had returned and she snored softly, in a sounder sleep than pain should allow.

  He lay down against Rysa’s back, close enough to feel her warmth but far enough away she wouldn’t awaken.

  She shivered. He tensed, his fingers flaring over her hip.

  A fierce protectiveness stabbed across his nerves. His senses focused on her and all he saw—all he perceived—was that his woman hurt.

  He’d make it right. Come morning, he’d speak with Mira. Hearing Dragon, manifesting her mother’s wounds, extending her health to others, all reinforced his questions. Time to ask about the other half of Rysa’s family, and in particular Sandro Torres.

  Ladon closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the nape of her neck. The pain would stop. He’d give her what she needed to fight the spike.

  And something told him he didn’t need Dmitri to find it.

  41

  Ladon sneezed. Sunshine flicked through the tree’s branches and onto his cheek. He rubbed at the spot, fighting wakefulness. The familiar lack-of-Dragon that numbed part of his awareness when the beast slept sat on his mind. It slouched like a determined cat sitting on his leg, digging in its claws when he tried to push it away.

  He ignored it, focusing instead on thoughts of his lovely Rysa and the feel of her exquisite breasts. The soft skin between them tasted as perfect as the woman herself. The little stuttered breaths she exhaled when he kissed her nipples held his attention like no other wom
an’s. He’d spend all day exploring the tender smoothness of her body. Chart every inch and tally every reaction he caused with a gentle kiss or a quick nip.

  He rolled over. No one else slept on his bed.

  Sitting up, he scratched at his belly. From the intensity of the light and the angle of the reflections falling on the tree, he guessed he’d been asleep for ten hours. Rysa and Mira must have decided to let him rest. Which was a shame. He’d rather wake surrounded by women, even if one was his love’s mother.

  Maybe they’d gone to the baths. He listened as an oriole called from the tree’s branches. Deep in the cave, the hydropower generator hummed. Birds tweeted in the ventilation shafts. But no sounds of activity rose from the rear cavern. They’d probably gone out to the kitchen to find something to eat or to get Rysa’s clothes from the pull cart.

  Though watching her hips sway in the too big pajamas would be a nice distraction for the morning. He’d follow her around the whole day, grinning and rubbing his chin against the slope of her neck until she sighed, even if Mira frowned at him.

  He pinched the bridge of his nose. Randiness when he walked into the kitchen would only embarrass Rysa, though her blushes did entice kisses. Maybe later, he’d sneak her away for an hour or two. Suggest a nap.

  He allowed himself one quick groan. He awoke with a diffuse desire pumping through his veins most mornings, but now that desire had focus. A very clear and perfect focus.

  Still, he should do his best not to embarrass her. The cool stone floor under his toes should help. As would a cold shower.

  Maybe he could entice Rysa to join him.

  Another groan and he looked up at painted swirls covering the dome. He had work to do. Allowing himself to be distracted by his own wants in no way fixed Faustus’s damage.

  He’d find a healer so when Dragon awoke, they could fetch help immediately. But first he needed Mira to answer his questions.

  Sister and Derek should have been home last night, though no roars or threats to Mira’s life woke him. He’d left messages but Sister hadn’t responded. Her irritation about a Jani Prime in her home most likely had Derek sleeping in the RV and wishing for his hospital bed.