Dragon Dreams- The Complete Shifter Collection

by Leela Ash

  That was not the behavior of a Fang…

  “Why did you bring your family on this mission?”

  “I told you, I ain’t on no mission. I got nothing to do with the Fangs. I live here.”

  “You live here. Doing…?”

  “Nothing!” The Rat suddenly realized he still clutched his useless knife like a security blanket. Slowly, he sheathed it. “We just live here. It’s our home.”

  “You and your family.”

  “Yeah.” He folded his arms across his chest and spat. “Used to be a lot more of us. I had twenty or thirty cousins in this town. But they got took and there’s just us now. We hid the best, I guess.”

  “Took? Who took them?”

  “Fangs.”

  “Wait. You claim that you’re the Fangs’ victims, not their agents?”

  “Yeah. Most Rats are.”

  Owen’s eyes narrowed. That didn’t make any sense. Almost all Rats served the Fangs. A few were free-range villains, but not many.

  Seeing his doubt, Walker gave a weak sneer. “I suppose you think we love the Fangs, us Rats. Well, we don’t. Yeah, we serve ‘em. Cause they take our families. And once a man’s family’s been took, what’s he supposed to do?”

  The thought sickened Owen. Were they truly victims, not villains? Everything he thought he knew about Rats flipped on its head.

  “I’ll tell you what a man does,” Walker continued. “He does whatever he has to, to keep his family alive.”

  Owen rubbed his temple as the beginning of a headache stirred to life. “Let’s try this again, shall we?”

  “All right.” Walker found an empty bucket, flipped it, and sat down out of arm’s reach.

  “You say you’re not with the Fangs.”

  “Nope! Well, I mean, yeah, I say that. I ain’t with ‘em.”

  “But the Fangs are active in town.”

  “Yup.”

  “And you claim they’ve kidnapped your relatives?”

  “Yup.”

  An ugly, ugly idea was forming in his head. Owen rubbed his eyes. “When did this begin?”

  “Five years ago,” said the Rat.

  And then he confirmed Owen’s worst fear. “When them Hares showed up.”

  Chapter 11

  Soft as it was, the click of the back door’s knob sounded as loud as a gunshot to Ariel. On noiseless feet, she glided to the top of the stairs. She’d turned on every light in the house before she came up to watch over the children. No enemy was sneaking in.

  The “intruder” turned out to be Owen, not some thieving Rat. She closed her eyes with relief. Foolish, probably. Few Shifters would even dare to face a Dragon in combat. Against Rats, Owen was perfectly safe. Yet, she couldn’t help but worry. If this was a trap… if there was magic…

  All those worries seemed silly now, seeing him safe and home.

  On leaden feet, he staggered over to the couch and collapsed.

  Once more, fear raised its head. “Owen? Is everything all right?”

  His eyes, always so bright, were clouded with shame. “Yeah. Family of Rats. Don’t think they work for the Fangs. Not a problem.”

  Then why wouldn’t he look her in the face? Ariel padded down the stairs to join him. “Did you find Tamar?”

  “Yup.” He shrank back into the couch. “Walker’s daughter. He was trying to protect her.”

  “Owen…” She knelt before him and took his hands, so strong, so rough, in hers. “What’s wrong?”

  He didn’t pull away from her this time. Instead, he left his hands resting in her grasp, as if her touch gave him some comfort. “I frightened them. Badly.”

  No surprise there. Rats were cowards by nature – and few things were as terrifying as an angry Dragon! “Did you hurt them?”

  “No.”

  Patient, open, she simply waited until the empty silence grew too heavy for him to bear.

  “I almost hurt them, though.”

  “But you didn’t. That’s what’s important.”

  “No, you don’t understand. I wanted to hurt them.”

  She slid onto the couch beside Owen and leaned close, hoping the warmth of her body would cheer him. “That’s my fault, not yours. I jumped to conclusions. I made you think these people threatened your children. Of course, you wanted to hurt them – to protect us!”

  “Ariel, listen to me.” Now he did turn to face her, his face twisted with grief. “I almost killed innocent children. Even when I knew they were just kids, I… I nearly lost myself in my Dragon’s rage. It took all of my strength to hold myself back.”

  Shifters, she knew, lived in the shadow of the Other Side. Every Bear, even the fallen ones who joined the Fangs, felt the urge to protect something. Dragons must be the same.

  And yet, she understood his horror. How terrible must it be to feel your soul urging you to destroy innocents? No cause, however noble, could fully cleanse the taint from that emotion.

  “My Alpha once told me ‘A true Dragon is his own master.’ Well, I wasn’t.”

  “Owen…”

  “No. I pulled it off in the end. I didn’t hurt anyone. But that was mostly luck. I came so close to…” He choked, and his grip on her hands tightened painfully. “I am no true Dragon.”

  The shame in his voice shocked her to her core. Owen Jackson, a Dragon of the First Flight, one of the most noble and powerful Shifters in the world…

  …doubted himself?

  Just as she doubted herself so often. The guilt and reproach in his words was painfully familiar. She felt it every time she thought of her parents, and how ‘unworthy’ she was to be their child.

  The difference between them was that she knew he didn’t deserve any blame. Ariel threw her arms around his shoulders and drew him close. “Listen to me now,” she murmured in his ear. “You are a fine Dragon.”

  “I’m arrogant, hot-headed, and selfish.”

  “Well… yes,” she admitted. Owen startled and blinked at her. “You didn’t expect me to pretend you were perfect, did you?”

  That surprised a chuckle out of him. The first knot of tension in his arms relaxed under the heat of her embrace. She rested her head on his shoulder, rocking him gently. “You’re also kind and generous. You’re brave. You want so badly to do what’s right.”

  Like ice melting under the spring’s bright sun, he yielded to her embrace. His racing heart stilled and she felt his cheek press against her hair. “I can’t control myself or my Dragon.”

  “You can, when it matters.”

  He pulled away. Not, she realized, to escape her touch, but to watch her, to study her face once more for any signs of flattery or deceit. “Why do you always see something good in me?”

  “Because you are good!”

  “My temper…”

  “Your passion.” His eyes widened as she corrected him. “All those things you think are flaws? They’re your passion, your heart. They’re the gift of your Dragon.”

  “But they’re dangerous.”

  “So are Dragons.”

  Around her, the world faded. Cares, worries, the future, vanished. Nothing existed except this moment. Herself, and the man she adored.

  “Aren’t you ever scared of me?” he asked. Tense, as if he feared her answer.

  “Never. You can be yourself with me. I’m not afraid of you or your passion.”

  With that promise, joy erased the last traces of his guilt.

  “I love you,” he whispered.

  Her heart sang, ringing with elation. How long had she yearned to hear those words?

  Sparks of cold fire lit in his eyes, the sign of his Dragon’s presence. Frightening to some, perhaps, but Ariel adored the touch of mystery, of otherworldly power that dwelled in her beloved.

  He pulled her near in a strong, irresistible embrace. Lips that she had only felt in dreams joined hers. The passion that had simmered in her heart for so long blazed free at that touch.

  “I want you,” Owen said, his deep voice rough with de
sire.

  A nanny should be professional. A nanny would never sleep with her employer. Yet, in this moment, she wasn’t his nanny. She was simply a woman – and she answered him as a woman. “I’m yours. I want you too. All of you.”

  Without another word, he rose and swept her into his bronzed arms. Curled against his strong chest, he carried her to the master suite with swift, sure strides and a haste born of urgent need.

  His four-post bed awaited them. Owen dropped, almost tossed, her onto it. As she began to unbutton her blouse, he yanked his shirt over his head and flung it away.

  Moonlight flooded through the windows, filling the room with its silvery, elven glow. At the sight of him, bathed in that magical light, her breath caught in her throat. Her fingers stilled, buttons forgotten, as she marveled at the sleek power of his body. The way his muscles flexed as he tore off his pants and threw them aside as well.

  Clothes could be a pleasure to shed. A slow, teasing prelude to love-making. The loss of each piece revealing a new glimpse of a lover’s body.

  Not now. Not tonight. Tonight, an unquenchable fire burned within them, a desire that chafed at any delay. Still drunk on the glory of his naked body, her fingers fumbled at the last fastenings on her shirt. Owen simply tore it open, sending buttons scattering across the floor.

  Ariel neither noticed, nor cared.

  Eager hands tugged her pants down as she tore off her bra. Hunger drove him to careless speed and soon, her slacks joined his clothes, flung heedlessly away.

  At last, her body, too, offered itself to the moonlight. He towered above her, his cock already erect, a pillar of masculine power and desire.

  And yet, even as his passion reached an unstoppable crescendo, he hesitated. “Do you want this?”

  She smiled, love and pride welling up within her. With that question, he confirmed her faith in him. In his self-control. “I do.”

  He climbed onto the bed, straddling her, sending the heat in her loins soaring. “I may not be gentle.”

  “I don’t care.” She ached with fierce longing, a need that would not be denied. “I’m not afraid.”

  With that, he took her.

  He swept down upon her. Covering her, claiming her. Lips, hot and greedy, found her mouth. She slid her legs apart. The heat of his body, its weight, pressed between her thighs. Rubbing against the damp eagerness of her slit. Ariel moaned, wrapping her legs around the hard, unyielding strength of his hips.

  The sex of their dreams had been sweet, its fire stoked with play and teasing. But this… this was passion. This was madness. A hunger, a need, that tolerated no delays. That wanted no foreplay to bring it to climax.

  Yet, even as his desire threatened to overwhelm him, Owen paused again. His hand slipped between her legs, fingers probing inside her. Seeking the wet anticipation that proved she was ready for him.

  He doubted? Then she’d show him that her desire matched his!

  With an impish smile, she slipped out from under him. Then, without a word, she pushed him onto his back. As his eyes widened, she straddled him, settling on the hard plane of his stomach. Surprise turned to lust as he watched her above him, full curves bright in the moonlight. His hands rose to her breasts, cupping them. His thumbs stroked her rough nipples.

  Ariel arched her back. Her hair, free, whispered across her shoulders and she reveled in the love, the lust, that filled her lover’s eyes.

  Reaching behind her, she grasped his thick, hard cock. Owen moaned. His hands fell away from her breasts and clutched the sheets.

  Gently, she pulled him to her, letting the tip of his engorged manhood slip just inside her damp, eager pussy. Owen writhed, moaning, as she teased him. Then she lowered herself, driving his cock deep inside her most secret places. She felt him fill her, and the thick, hard girth of his shaft drove her wild.

  Planting her hands on his flat stomach, Ariel rode him. Each thrust of her hips sent his manhood coursing through her. Each one drew a sharp cry of pleasure from her lips. Faster, harder, until he nearly bucked beneath her. His head whipped from side to side as pleasure took him. Fingers dug at her knees. In the depths of her passion, she never felt them.

  With a cry, Owen’s back arched and he exploded within her. Her own passion answered him. Moaning, she came as well. Once, twice more, she rode him, as the waves of her orgasm swept over her. Then, gently, she rose, releasing him, and collapsed to the bed beside him.

  They lay panting, covered in sweat, under the moon’s approving gaze.

  Perhaps there were things that needed to be said. Plans to be made. Futures to decide. For the moment, though, they were content to snuggle close and fall asleep in each other’s arms.

  Chapter 12

  When the morning sunlight teased him awake, Owen found himself curled against Ariel. The scent of her hair, the warmth of her body, surrounded him. He lay pressed close against her, one arm draped protectively over her shoulder. Basking in her heat, her presence, he felt his manhood swell, remembering last night’s passion.

  Then his brain awoke and ruined everything.

  What have I done?

  Ariel wasn’t his Mate. He knew that. So did she, poor woman. As much as he loved her, she wasn’t the woman he was destined to spend his life with. Yet, here he was, toying with her. Giving her false hope. Pledging his love to her. How could he sleep with her when he knew he’d have to send her away?

  Then again, how could he not?

  No man could refuse the woman he loved. How could he ignore their passion or pretend he didn’t feel the fire that burned between them?

  No. Owen admitted defeat as those questions overwhelmed him. Ariel might not be his Mate. Yet, he knew that, no matter how much it hurt them both, she would be his woman as long as they lived under one roof. The hunger they shared simply could not be denied.

  He slipped out of bed, careful not to wake her, and retrieved his clothes.

  He was the first one awake in the family and even after his shower, he was alone. He called Lorde and left a message about the Rat’s claim. “I don’t put a lot of faith in the word of a Rat, but I’ll investigate it. If we’ve got a traitor, the whole Warren could be in danger.”

  Check-in done, and before 6:00 am at that. His Alpha was going to think he was crazy. Owen considered waiting for the rest of his family to wake, then discarded the idea. Today might be a full day, depending on what he found. Best to start early.

  In the foyer, he paused. The front door was slightly ajar.

  His eyes narrowed. Had someone forgotten to close it properly? Kids did have a tendency to do that. Given that a Rat lived nearby, though, that wasn’t safe to assume.

  A quick search of the house turned up nothing, however. No sounds from the bedrooms. No intruders in any of the other rooms. Owen decided he was being paranoid. Rats were professionals. If a Rat broke into the house, he would be damned sure to shut the door behind himself! He made sure to shut and lock the door, and thought no more about it.

  There were few signs of life at the Warren when he arrived, though the curtains in Clarissa’s study had been drawn open. Owen let himself in and climbed the stairs. She answered his knock – not a hair out of place and wearing a Versace gown despite the early hour.

  Damn, did this woman ever sleep?

  “Owen! You’re early. I hope there’s nothing wrong?” She didn’t look overjoyed to see him. There was a pinched, reserved expression he’d never seen before. Normally, she practically threw herself at him.

  He followed her inside, closing the door behind him. “Got some solid leads last night.”

  “That’s wonderful! You’re brilliant,” the Hare gushed. “You’ve already tracked down the Rats responsible?”

  Yesterday, her fixation on Rats seemed sensible. Now, after talking to Walker, he found it ominous. “Perhaps. But first, how are you feeling?”

  “Tired and banged up. Though, fortunately, makeup took care of all the bruises.”

  He nearly snorted. She must n
ot be badly hurt if she worried more about her looks than her health. “That’s good to hear.”

  Her brief smile faded and she stepped over to a table by the window. “Tea?”

  “Please.” Good to know that even Clarissa Lange thought 6:00 am was too early for wine.

  “You’re much more serious than usual,” she said as she poured out the hot water. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  Could he? If she was innocent, the queen would be an invaluable ally in rooting out the spy. But if she was the traitor…

  Best to be cautious. “I found evidence that the Fangs have been in contact with someone here in the Warren.”

  “One of my Hares is a traitor?” Her eyes flashed with anger. He couldn’t tell if that was real or just a good job of acting. “How are we going to root them out?”

  “Do you have files on your witches?”

  “Of course. I do full background checks on all of them. Would you like to see them?”

  “Yes.”

  Unlocking a desk drawer, Clarissa pulled out a score of folders and placed them on the table. “Here you are. I’ll scan them with you, and if there’s any other information you need, you have only to ask.”

  That, at least, seemed like the behavior of an innocent woman. Owen thanked her and picked up the first file.

  Over the next hour, the two of them sipped herbal tea and reviewed the history of the thirteen Hares of the Warren.

  Well, twelve of them. He noticed that Clarissa had no file on herself. None of them seemed suspicious and so he turned his attention to older researchers. Ones that had left the Warren.

  Clarissa lost interest at that point. She rose, stepped to the window, and gazed out across the lawn. Occasionally, she took a sip of her tea.

  “I’m surprised that Mr. Lorde hasn’t gathered a Warren to study the living Wellspring.”

  “Maybe he will later. Right now, secrecy is a greater concern.” He shouldn’t even be talking about this but, well, he’d already let the truth slip. No sense pretending the Wellspring was just a rumor.