by Kayla Wolf
Well, she knew everything now, and she still wanted him. She'd seen his true form, she'd seen him at his worst and his best, she'd flown with him through the sky, and she'd planned with him to fulfil his destiny, and she was still kissing him like the world was ending, still yanking at his belt with a single-minded determination and now she'd succeeded in stripping him entirely – and though being naked in this form had never felt strange to him before, there was something odd about the way Lisa was looking at him. Sizing him up. It was because she'd always averted her eyes, when he was unclothed – human etiquette, perhaps. It certainly felt strange to be unclothed while she was still fully covered. But before he could do anything about that, she was upon him, spinning him around, pushing him back towards the bed where he half-sat, half-fell and then her mouth was on his stomach, kissing a trail down towards – towards —
He had felt dizzy and light before, but when she took him into her mouth, it felt as though he lost his mind entirely. He had never felt so vulnerable in all his life – never so lost to sensation. No wonder, some distant, fractured part of his consciousness thought – no wonder humans dedicated so much of their lives to this... and then he was lost, again. He could hear himself making strange sounds – groaning sounds, as though he were in pain – and the low sound of her knowing laughter almost brought him to climax.
Almost. Suddenly she was gone, just for a second, and he sat up groggily to find her climbing into his lap, her clothing removed too, and he pressed his hands to her shoulders for just a second – just looked at her, face framed by her hair, face lit by the dim glow of the candles. And he couldn't for the life of him think of a single thing to say, so he just smiled at her, and hoped that would do.
And then she was upon him, engulfing him, the hot pressure of her body almost too much to bear, and her palms against his shoulders flattened him back to the bed. He took hold of her slight hips in his hands and moved with her, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood as he fought to hold himself back, not to finish until she'd had her way with him, had her pleasure too – and it wasn't long before her breathing quickened and her hands tensed on his shoulders, her nails digging deliciously hard into the skin there, drawing a little blood – no matter, he'd be healed by morning – and he saw her trying to keep herself from making too much noise. A habit from another place, he thought, amused – but there were no neighbors within earshot of the house, and as his climax began to build within him in a way that would brook no resistance, he learned up to whisper in her ear that she could be as loud as she liked.
They crashed over the edge together, and it felt like his body was full of light. He didn't even notice her moving to lay beside him, her head pillowed on his chest, the sound of her breath going from a rapid staccato to the slow, soothing rhythm of sleep. Alexander lay awake for a very long time as the afterglow faded.
What had he done?
Chapter 22 – Lisa
Lisa woke up slowly. She kept her eyes shut deliberately, smoothed her breathing – a few days of sleeping in the same bed as Alexander had well and truly taught her that the guy had ears like a bat. If she so much as turned over in bed, he'd be up and in the kitchen making coffee before she could blink. And for the time being, she wanted to stay a little ahead of him. She had some extremely important thinking to do.
They'd had sex. Again. It had been a terrible idea. Again. But had it, really? It certainly hadn't felt like a terrible idea to fall into his arms like she had. It had felt like coming home, actually – as had a lot of moments over their last few days together. This strange little run-down house in the middle of nowhere, with the addition of a few homely bits and pieces, now felt more comforting and familiar than her tiny New York apartment ever had. The appeal of that place had been that it was all hers, all to herself. But was that really what she wanted, long-term? Renting the flat had been motivated by not having to share with a series of weird and terrible roommates. Alexander wasn't a terrible roommate at all, and now the idea of living alone again felt incredibly cold and lonely.
And she'd tried incredibly hard to fight her feelings for him. The situation had done everything in its power to help her, too. Dumped here in the middle of the woods out of nowhere, brought her to this tiny ramshackle old house, showed her that the guy she'd met was literally a lizard person ... it should have been easy to sever any lingering attraction to him that she felt. If it was surface-level, the sight of him transforming gruesomely into an enormous dragon (that word still felt slightly absurd when she thought it to herself) ought to have been enough to banish it. And it had, certainly – but not for long. It was the touch of his mind – the telepathic contact – that had kept her from recoiling from him. It was who he was, not what he looked like.
And the way he'd thrown himself into learning more about humanity – the excited way he'd shared with her, the pure and clear admiration for humanity (and her specifically – he'd told her a hundred times how brave and clever he thought she was. No guy she'd dated had ever been so kind.) It was so incredibly charming. She had tried so hard to keep her feelings neutral, but it simply hadn't worked. And when he'd stood in the doorway, gazing at her like she was a work of art or something... there'd been no way she could resist him. Not even close. She'd tried, and it had felt like she was that king from that old story, standing in the ocean trying to turn back the tide by yelling at it.
And he seemed to like her, too. He'd been working as hard as she had to keep them apart, but she'd caught the way he looked at her, the casual touches in the house that were so charged with electricity that she'd hear him catch his breath. And the night before – the way he'd taken hold of her like a drowning man coming up for air – he wanted her as much as she wanted him.
So she allowed herself to return to a thought she'd buried deep, deep under all the other thoughts she'd tried to fight since she'd met Alexander, since she'd discovered his true nature, since she'd agreed to help him in his quest to find his destined soulmate...
What if it was her?
Yes, it sounded absurd – that had been part of the reason she'd initially dismissed the idea as being ridiculous. Of course, it sounded absurd. She was a twenty-nine-year-old dating coach from Colorado, living in New York, trying to get her business off the ground. She had – parents and friends and a cozy life. She was not the kind of person that an ancient prophecy would ever be about, was she? But was it any less absurd to assume that the destined woman was out there somewhere – that if Alexander went on enough dates, he'd find her? He'd admitted himself – countless times – that he had no idea how to tell that a woman was the right one. They'd worried about it in the planning stages. What if he met her and couldn't tell?
What if he'd met her his first day in town? What if she'd been the one who pulled him out of the alley?
It frightened the hell out of her, honestly. But there was a spark of real joy at the prospect, buried under all the usual anxieties and hang-ups – what if he didn't feel the same, what if she was deluding herself, what if she was actually ugly and repulsive and everyone she'd ever met was only being kind... the kind of negativity that had driven her away from relationship after relationship. The kind of fear that had stopped her time and time again from pursuing happiness.
Not this time.
“Alexander?”
She opened her eyes, taking a breath to ask him the question – to discover an empty bed. He must have heard her moving in her sleep. Smiling a little, she sat up, ran her fingers through her hair a few times and wrinkled her nose at the matting she discovered – sex hair. After taking a couple of minutes to make herself presentable, she padded out into the living room, still naked.
He wasn't there either.
And her laptop was open on the dining table. There was an Excel spreadsheet open that she didn't remember leaving there – a blank document, with only one cell filled in. Had he left her a note? She'd been slowly teaching him to type. She'd clearly not taught him what Word was for, she thought with
a fond smile playing about her lips. But the smile faded as she read the cell.
Dear Lisa, I cannot apologize Enough for what I have Done. you have been So Kind, and i will be Grateful forever. you will only be Hurt if I remain. i must Complete my mission Alone. my best Wishes for your brilliant human Life – Alexander
She stood for a long time in the living room of the home they had shared. Then, mechanically, she took action. Methodically, quietly, she began to gather her things – first her laptop and equipment, then her clothes, then the rest of the miscellaneous things they'd brought or bought. After a moment's consideration, she took the leftover food outside – minus its packaging – and left it to be eaten by wild animals. Then she retrieved the credit card, and the replacement phone she'd picked up in town, and called an Uber.
She didn't look back at the ramshackle old house as the car moved off down the road half an hour later. What would be the point?
New York was as she'd left it – grimy, disgusting, full of hundreds of people. The crowds soothed her for a little while. It was difficult to feel anything at all when you were focusing on getting where you were going. First, she stopped at her office to drop off the equipment she'd brought from there. Then she headed back to her apartment. How could it be dangerous there any more, if Alexander was gone? The wolves had no interest in her. They had that in common with Alexander, it seemed. They were polite enough to have shut her door behind them when they'd left the apartment, but there was still a lot of damage – furniture knocked over, boot prints on the carpet, and the door to the balcony standing wide open. She remembered the way she'd felt when Alexander had pulled her over the edge of the balcony, the giddy rush and absolute shock of flight, the bafflement at his transformation. That long, strange flight, clutched in his talons. God, she'd just left her whole life behind, hadn't she? What was wrong with her? One guy came along, and she'd just dropped everything, trusted him – quite literally – with her life? Serves you right, doesn't it, Lisa? Men aren't to be trusted. Her internal voice was sounding a lot like Jacqui.
Speaking of Jacqui – she had a voicemail from her on her phone. Unusual for the woman to communicate in anything other than email form. She frowned as she finished tidying up her apartment, restoring it to more or less its former shabby glory (minus a few dents and scratches in the furniture.) Probably best to get on that voicemail sooner rather than later. Jacqui didn't look too kindly upon being kept waiting. It was something Lisa admired about her, honestly.
She smiled a little, remembering her last conversation with Jacqui. She'd told her about Alexander with a little bit of hesitation. He was gorgeous and interesting, that was for sure – Jacqui had been very clear about her type – and if anyone could rule a dragon kingdom as its human queen it was Jacqui. But she was a little worried about the woman ferreting out more information than she ought to. How would Jacqui handle a shapeshifting dragon, Lisa wondered? Probably look at it for ten seconds before thinking of a brilliant scheme to monetize it.
The voicemail was short – a fairly cordial request for an in-person meeting at her office, later that day. She shot off a text in response, confirming the appointment but a little nonplussed. Jacqui never wanted to meet outside of their scheduled times. But it wasn't as though she had anything else on – she'd put off all her appointments indefinitely, so sure she'd been that she and Alexander would be busy for quite some time. Idiot. Absolute idiot.
She was going to have to confront that little internal voice sooner or later. And probably have a good cathartic cry, too. She'd pick up a bottle or two of red wine on the way home from seeing Jacqui if her credit card would stretch that far. Find something soppy on Netflix and just really weep herself into a stupor. A pint of ice-cream? Absolutely.
Jacqui was her usual effortlessly poised self. An exquisitely tailored dark suit, a perfect French manicure, makeup that probably cost more than Lisa's monthly utility bills. And a gleam in her eye that Lisa had come to fear.
“Interesting date last night,” she said without preamble, raising an eyebrow at Lisa. “Very interesting.”
“Alexander,” Lisa said woodenly, trying to seal herself off from the feelings that name summoned. “Yes, I wasn't quite sure how you two would get along, but I thought it was worth a shot.”
“Very easy on the eye.”
“He is, isn't he?”
“Lisa, why'd you send me on a date with a guy who's in love with you? I've come to expect better from you.”
Lisa's face went studiously blank. “What?”
“He's besotted. Head over heels.” Jacqui examined her fingernails, crossing one leg over the other from her favored perch on Lisa's couch. “I hardly got two shots of vodka in him before he was singing your praises.”
“I – don't think that's the case,” Lisa managed, her head spinning a little with this information. “He admires my work ethic, I think, and —”
“Nope. A lot of people admire my work ethic, I know what that looks like.” Jacqui grinned at her like a Cheshire cat. “And I know what it looks like when they're head-over-heels in love with me. Had plenty of that too, not to brag, just stating a fact. It looks like your lad Alexander looked, last night. Pure and simple.”
“I don't —”
“Don't date. I know. So don't date him. Just be with him. Your face says you want him as much as he wants you.”
Lisa grabbed a piece of paper from her desk and held it over her face. Jacqui laughed, a musical sound that Lisa didn't hear very often.
“Too late, darling.”
“It's not possible,” Lisa said carefully, not lowering the piece of paper. “He's – I can't really go into it, but he's not for me.”
“Bullshit.” Jacqui's voice was calm and measured. “You disappoint me, Miss Harrison. A whip-smart girl like you, falling for that kind of nonsense? Not for you? The world's for you if you want it, you just have to decide it's yours and take it without saying 'please.' People talk a lot about deserving happiness – I think that's claptrap. You win happiness. You fight tooth and nail, and you take it. You really should read some Rand,” she added, thoughtfully.
“I can't,” Lisa said hopelessly, dropping the piece of paper. “Even if you were right. Even if – he loved me, I loved him, whatever – I don't know where he's gone.”
“Oh, he ran scared? Figures.” Jacqui was smiling at her. “He'll be back. The way he talked about you? He'd comb the whole surface of the earth for you if he needed to.”
“You're good at this,” Lisa said, laughing a little shakily. “If you ever get tired of the corporate world, you can come work with me.”
“Speaking of, I've got a company to cannibalize,” the woman said smoothly, rising to her feet and moving elegantly to the door. “Go get him.”
Chapter 23 – Alexander
New York felt cold today. Not just in his human form – even flying in, the gray sky was somehow cold even to his scales. Perhaps it was psychological. He hadn't been completely alone since he'd first arrived in the city. This felt like that, almost exactly – no allies, no friends, no plan beyond just wandering the streets until something happened. At least he had a change of clothes with him this time.
He landed in the top of the building, trying very hard not to think about what Lisa had looked like, asleep in the bed that morning when he'd risen. That was in the past now. He'd prevailed upon her kindness for far too long as it was. He'd disrupted her life, pulled her away from her work and her home and her friends, made her help him with his destiny with no way to repay her for any of her kindness. It had been selfish of him, and cruel – and then, to add insult to injury, he'd made love to her, misled her into believing ... well, he wasn't sure what she believed. They hadn't talked about it. He'd been unable to talk about it. It wasn't a habit he was in, talking about his feelings – even when he understood what he was feeling, it wasn't easy to communicate in human language.
But it certainly was easy to ignore his feelings and focus on his mission.
He strode down the New York sidewalk with one goal and one goal only – to make eye contact with as many women as he could. That was all. Just eye contact. They had been messing around – he had been messing around, he corrected himself stridently – with dates and long conversations and all of that stuff, and it was unnecessary. If she was out there, he would find her. She would look into his eyes, and he would look into her eyes, and everything would be resolved, somehow. Perhaps there would be a glow of light or some kind of sound – he wasn't sure. But he would know. He would recognize her and know, and that was it. This was the way to go about it. Not long conversations, and thought, and planning with Lisa, and coming home to Lisa and seeing her curled up on the bed or smiling happily up at him or laughing at things he hadn't intended to be funny but was pleased, regardless, to have brought her that sunny burst of joy —
Alexander walked faster. There were a few million people in New York, which meant at least a million women to look at before the sun went down. Each person he examined looked back with a variety of expressions – mostly confusion, plenty of open hostility. One woman swore at him, then dissolved into laughter with the friend she was walking with. Never mind. This was a numbers game. See as many women as possible. The soulmate would reveal herself. And when he found her, oh, he would be unstoppable. He would take her into his arms the way he had taken Lisa into his arms the night before —
