Rebel Dragon

by Anna Lowe

  Jody blazed right on without giving Jenna a chance to pipe up. “From what I hear, he’s been something of a loose cannon. Cruz is just watching out for you, all right?”

  Jenna’s cheeks heated, and her hands chopped the air. “Listen to yourself! People talked about us when we were growing up, but they didn’t understand, did they? Remember that? How they said we needed more supervision, and that Dad needed to find a new partner to bring us up properly. Thank goodness Dad didn’t listen to that crap. What right did they have to judge?”

  For a second, they both stopped, thinking back on all they’d overcome as a family. And again, Jenna felt overwhelmingly indebted to her father for all he’d done.

  A lump rose in her throat as she looked at her bangles and the matching pair on Jody’s wrists. They’d been through so much together, come so far. Jody only meant well.

  When her older sister spoke, it was in her gentlest tone. “Jenna, I know you mean it. But you’re new to all this. Hell, I still feel new to all this. Every shifter species has a different code, and between shifters, it’s even more complicated. So, really — how much can you judge?”

  Jenna looked at her feet. Jody wasn’t being condescending. She was pointing out the painful truth. Was Jenna really in a position to revolutionize the hierarchies of a totally foreign world?

  If it hadn’t been for Cruz’s comment, carried to her in a brief lull of pedestrian traffic, Jenna might have tucked her tail and admitted defeat. Instead, her head snapped up, and she stomped over to the two men.

  “What was that?” she demanded, because she’d heard Cruz drill into Connor, clear as day. Isn’t she a little young for you?

  Connor looked about to blow his top, but she put an arm out, keeping him back. This wasn’t his battle to fight. It was hers.

  “What did you say?” she demanded a second time.

  Cruz looked from Jenna to Connor and back. Then he crossed his arms firmly. “I was saying you’re a little young for a guy like him.”

  Something in Jenna snapped, and before she knew it, she was shaking a finger in Cruz’s face and letting the speech of her life fly.

  “Too young? You know when I was too young? When my mom died.”

  Cruz glanced at Jody with a Help me, baby look, but Jenna didn’t relent.

  “And you know when else I was too young? When my sisters grew up and moved out. I was too goddamned young to be the one to take care of my dad and everything at home. But, now?” She shoved Cruz hard enough for him to topple back. “I’m an adult, and I will decide what I will and will not do. Do you understand?”

  Her vision was red, her blood racing through her veins, making her hands shake. Fury hurt, she decided. Fury was scary. What if it swallowed her up and stole away the sunshine in her life?

  Then the thunderclouds in her mind parted, and a ray of light broke through. She glanced down and found Connor touching her arm. The lightest, least intrusive touch ever, yet one with a power its own.

  Love. She could feel it coursing through her arm. Like the antidote to a deadly poison, it combined with the fury and cleaned it all away.

  She stared at the point of contact — Connor’s massive hand dwarfing hers. Is that what he felt when she’d touched him all those times he’d gotten worked up?

  When she finally looked up, Connor’s eyes had that reassuring glow. Cruz had gone very quiet, and Jody was studying her and Connor with a totally different kind of concern.

  “If you so much as—” Cruz started, giving Connor one last, unrelenting look.

  Jenna whipped a hand out and caught Cruz by the chin, shocking herself as much as him. Shit. She might not know much about shifters, but you didn’t mess with an angry tiger shifter, especially when that tiger was Cruz. But she’d acted without thinking and spoke just as rashly.

  “I’m the one you’re talking to, not him. You got that?” Then she caught herself and let go, giving him a little pat instead. “Look, I appreciate you looking out for me. I really do.” She softened her touch and her voice. “You, along with Jody, my dad, my sister, my brother-in-law, and just about everyone else. But I’ve had it with being a little sister. I’ve had it with being treated like a kid. I grew up a long time ago, and I can make my own decisions. Okay?”

  Cruz didn’t look convinced, but Jody broke in with a hug. “I know you can,” she murmured. Then she wrapped her arm around Cruz and kissed his cheek. “Now, back to what we came for. A nice night out.” She winked at Jenna. “What do you recommend?”

  Jenna’s arms and legs went a little rubbery with relief. In a way, Jody had just saved her ass — again — by defusing the tension. But somehow, it felt more like a favor between equals than the usual big-sister thing.

  “Stay away from the falafel salad,” Connor grunted, offering his own olive branch. “But the Big Swell IPA looked pretty good to me.”

  “Perfect,” Jody announced, guiding Cruz along. “I can’t wait. Oh, hi, Chase!” Then Jody turned to look over her shoulder one more time. “Have fun, you two.”

  Cruz stiffened, but to his credit, didn’t turn back.

  “Thanks. We will,” Jenna said, pulling Connor down the sidewalk. “Right?”

  He let out a forced chuckle. “Sure. But you see what I mean?”

  “Yeah, I see what you mean,” she sighed. Then she ran her hand down the alley of thick muscles that lined each side of his back and borrowed a line from her father. “But like water off a duck’s back…”

  Connor laughed. And he laughed even harder when she tacked a question on to that.

  “Do dragon’s backs work that way?”

  “You’re something, you know that?” he chuckled, stopping for a huge hug. The kind where his arms went all the way around her — and then some — and rocked her from side to side. She buried her face in his shoulder and inhaled, pushing the last wisps of the thundercloud away.

  Her own words echoed in her mind — All he needs to rise above all the crap in his life is one person giving him a chance — and she chewed on them for a while. Did she have to wait for Cruz, Kai, or someone else to give Connor a chance, or could she be the one?

  With the world closed away in the safety of his embrace, she felt invincible. But as desperately as she wanted to be the one to help him, she wondered if she really was. Jody was right — she was a novice in the shifter world. And worse still, she had no particular powers of her own. What could she possibly do to help Connor?

  Just trust, a little voice told her. A voice that could have come from deep in Connor’s soul or the center of the Earth for all she knew. Trust.

  Trust him, she wondered, or trust herself?

  Connor let her out of the hug slowly and gifted her with one of his rare smiles. “I’ll have to show you someday.”

  She tilted her head, confused.

  “A dragon’s back. So you can check for yourself, I mean.”

  She laughed. “How about I check something else out first?”

  His eyebrows jumped up, and his eyes took on a possessive glow. “What would that be?”

  Your naked body, she wanted to say, Your human, naked body, but with the chance to enjoy it this time.

  She cleared her throat. “How well you dance.” She nodded ahead to a band playing under a huge tree, where several couples were swaying to the music.

  Connor gave her a wry grin. “Just a dance, huh?”

  She gave him her best sultry look. “And maybe some other things.”

  A little pink showed in his cheeks. Had he read her mind?

  “Well, I can pretty much guarantee being a terrible dancer.”

  “Oh? And how are you at…other things?” She let her voice drop.

  “Oh, you know.” He socked her with a cocky grin. “You’ll have to judge for yourself.”

  Which made her want to forget about dancing and find the nearest bed, deserted stretch of beach, or back seat of a car.

  “Don’t mind if I do,” she said, as demurely as possible.

&
nbsp; Now Connor was the tease. “Dance, you mean? Or…other things?”

  She did a brief estimate of the distance to the car and back to the estate, then gave up. She’d never make it that far without dying of lust. Maybe dancing would take the edge off that need.

  Then again, it could only make things worse.

  Connor’s eyes sparkled, daring her. But, hell. She was game for a little torture if he was.

  “Dance,” she said. “For starters.”

  Which was how she found herself in one of the most magical settings ever. Her sister’s treehouse at Koa Point was in that category, as was the thatch-roofed guesthouse she got to stay in. But dancing with Connor under a banyan tree on that particular night… That was the greatest magic of all.

  She didn’t need to stop and read the historical marker to know that banyan had to be one of the oldest trees in the state. A massive central trunk shot branches out toward every point on the compass, and when those grew too heavy to support themselves, they simply sprouted vine-like roots which gradually anchored them with a whole new trunk — and another and another until that single tree had created an entire forest of interlocking trunks. A latticework on which birds chattered, and a canopy to catch the notes of the band. Voices floated along with laughs and the faint scuff of dancers’ shoes.

  “So, you put your hand here.” She touched her shoulder and took a deep breath.

  “That much, I know.” Connor frowned in concentration.

  “Hey,” she said as he cupped her waist. “You can step on my feet all you want.”

  “Just keep in mind I’m better at other things,” he muttered.

  For a second or two, he looked around, watching the other couples, nodding with the beat. Then he swung into his first step…and swept her breath away. Not with polished movements or expertise, but with the dormant power and innate confidence of his frame. His eyes locked on hers, and all she had to do was focus there to fall into perfect harmony with him.

  She watched the stars — er, the sparkles in his eyes. He turned, carefully at first, then more smoothly, and she laughed at the joy of the movement. It was a little like surfing, but slowed down, all the better to relish it with. The magic of momentum, the feeling of floating along. The total muffling of every thought except those related to the here and now.

  Their chests squeezed together then slowly separated with every simultaneous breath. Her legs bracketed his, close enough to trip up entirely, except she never did.

  Nice and close, the naughty girl in her giggled.

  “Hmm?” he murmured.

  She sucked in her lips. Had she said that aloud?

  “Nice,” she said very innocently. “It’s just so…nice.”

  “Not just nice,” he mumbled, sniffing her hair. “It’s destiny.”

  His words were so low, they slid smoothly between the notes of each refrain.

  She nodded slowly. Of course, it was destiny, bringing them together. What else could it be?

  One song ended and another started, but Connor danced right through the brief breaks.

  “Blue moon…” The rich-toned singer held each note perfectly, and Connor pulled Jenna a little closer on the lines about seeing her standing alone.

  She hummed against his chest, listening to the singer go on. No love of his own? Funny how she’d never considered how hard that might be.

  Her heartbeat slowed, but each thump had twice its usual power, and her whole body went warm. She dreaded the moment when the song would end. But after a last, long note, Connor made it even more perfect by turning the song into a kiss. A kiss with the same slow, lingering movements of their dance.

  His arms slid over her shoulders, and she arched into him as the mood slowly tipped from ballad to dirty dance. And when that broke off — the world’s most perfect kiss — the rest of the evening played out in Jenna’s mind.

  “Take me home, dragon,” she whispered.

  He kissed her one more time, then rested his forehead on hers and nodded. “I can do that.”

  His voice was still a whisper and his hand firm in hers, but his Adam’s apple bobbed — twice. Then he looped his arm over her shoulder and walked her back to the car. A long way back, but every step felt right.

  Jenna shivered in anticipation. If Connor was that good at dancing, how good would he be in bed? Every nerve in her body tingled, and the heat pooling in her body swirled around in sweet anticipation.

  “Hang on,” she whispered, pulling him over for one more kiss. A thank-you kiss, telling him just how perfect the evening was.

  He grinned then turned back to continue walking, and—

  Connor’s face fell, and his whole body went stiff.

  “Mr. Hoving,” the man in front of them said. More an accusation than a greeting.

  “Draig,” Connor muttered, pulling Jenna back.

  It was a tiny, unobtrusive movement, yet a thousand alarms clanged in her mind.

  Llewellyn. Baird. Draig. Connor had mentioned those names before. The oldest, richest dragon clans.

  Jenna glared. Draig was an older man, more silver-haired than gray, but his eyes were sharp as an eagle’s searching for prey. He held his chin and nose high, exuding privilege. Or maybe arrogance was a better word.

  Jenna tried not to scowl, but she hated the man already.

  “Enjoying a night out, I see,” Draig said, obviously finding pleasure in agitating Connor with his words.

  And agitate he did, judging by the way Connor’s jaw clenched. Because there was an entire subtext coded into the man’s words. A haughty attitude fit for an emperor who occasionally amused himself by observing the behavior of the lower classes.

  The rabble, Draig’s unturned nose said.

  Those clans run their world with a thousand unwritten, archaic rules, Connor had said.

  Two beefy, expressionless men — bodyguards, no doubt — flanked Draig and his too-young, too-beautiful, and all-too-quiet companion who kept her eyes firmly on the ground. One of those trophy girls who gave herself over to a rich, older man. Would she SOS her misery to the outside world if she looked up?

  “Enjoying your last night in Maui?” Connor all but spat back, emphasizing the last part. Obviously, Connor wouldn’t shed tears when the man left.

  Jenna gripped Connor’s hand tightly. They’d been having such a nice night, and she didn’t want anything to ruin it. She nudged him forward, but he stood as still as a brick wall, blocking her. So she stepped out and around, really to drag him away if she had to.

  The movement brought her out of Connor’s shadow, and she froze the second Draig focused on her. His eyes flared red, just like those of the stalker in her nightmares, and instinct told her to flee, far and fast. But she was rooted to the spot. Horribly, helplessly rooted, unable to move for all the panicked messages crisscrossing her mind.

  There are dragons, and there are dragons. She’d only had the vaguest sense of what Connor had meant before, but now it was perfectly clear.

  “My, isn’t she lovely,” Draig said slowly, raking his hot-coal eyes over her body.

  A chill ran down her spine as the full force of his gaze violated her personal space. Draig wasn’t just a rich, conceited snob she could ignore. He was a dragon. A beast who could claw her in two. A beast who could roast her alive — slowly — and enjoy every minute of it.

  Draig’s eyes glinted, and Jenna glimpsed even worse tortures in those fiery orbs. Like being carried away and locked up by him. Being touched by him, knowing no matter how much she screamed, no one would hear her cries.

  She’d never felt that terrified in her life. Connor was coiling for an outburst behind her, and that scared her almost as much. The last thing she wanted to witness was a full-blown dragon fight. But Connor was at the breaking point, a volcano about to blow.

  It was all too easy to imagine what would happen next. Connor would jump Draig. Draig’s bodyguards — whatever type of shifters they were — would jump Connor. Even if Connor fought them off
and got to Draig, the blame would be pinned on Connor as the aggressor. The loose cannon, as Jody had put it. A rebel who had to be stopped. And if Connor went as far as showing his dragon in public — even in her defense — the shifter world would come down on him with full force.

  Within the space of a heartbeat, Jenna dragged her last scrap of willpower out of hiding and scowled at Draig.

  “And aren’t you rude,” she snipped.

  The redhead at Draig’s side looked up in shock. Draig’s eyes narrowed. Connor growled, a prelude to imminent attack.

  “Goodbye,” Jenna barked, dragging Connor forward, praying he wouldn’t snap. She hated walking away from a challenge, but someone had to defuse this simmering confrontation — or else.

  Miraculously, Connor followed. Mostly to cover her back, she sensed, but that was fine too. She forced herself to stride along at a normal pace instead of running as Draig’s eyes bored into her back. She felt the heat of them — the brand, almost — every time she got out of step with Connor. It was only when she’d put three blocks between her and that beast with the piercing gaze that the feeling eased.

  “Jenna,” Connor murmured.

  She plowed right along, looking forward to getting into the Ferrari, slamming the door, and racing away.

  “Jenna,” Connor insisted, slowing her down.

  She stopped and faced him, angry that her fury turned on Connor instead of Draig, but angry nonetheless. “Yeah?”

  He took both her hands in his and pressed them to her cheeks, shrinking the world down to just him and her.

  “You’re amazing, and I love you for that.” He shook his head and went a step further, blowing her away. “No — I love you for a lot of things. But you have to be careful around dragons like Draig.”

  Yeah, she got that now. “Assholes like Draig,” she muttered. His type was bad enough as plain old humans. But a dragon that arrogant was truly bad news.

  Then she caught herself. Whoa. Wait. What else had Connor said? “You love me for…?”

  He covered her lips with a touch so gentle, it melted her. “Just that part. I love you. I tried really hard not to, but I can’t help it.”