“You're insatiable, Arianna. Time to get back to work.”
But she was enjoying this, and it was more than just sex. Something amazing had happened here, something unexpected and wonderful. Sex aside, she'd met someone who she'd fallen in love with, improbable, as it seemed.
The library was as she'd left it, her books and papers spread across the table. It was dark and cool, and she eyed the hearth. There was no way she could manage to light a fire. Sighing, she reached for the chair, and her fingers brushed against something soft. She looked down. Folded across the back was the shawl she'd worn yesterday.
“Gotta love a man who thinks ahead.”
With the shawl wrapped around her shoulders and the lamp lit, she pulled her notes closer and read over the last few entries. It came back to her, her last thoughts, the last entries. But as she read it suddenly struck her.
She knew the secret of the castle. She knew the truth behind the legend.
“Oh, my God.”
But could she write what she knew? She sat back in her chair. It would give away Ross's secret; tell the whole world what had really happened.
She couldn't do that, wouldn't ruin a man's life for the sake of her own work. She could find something else to write about, some other aspect of the castle.
All the books spread out over the table, all the research she'd done, everything...was basically useless. She couldn't write her thesis.
Doncaster...she'd have to call Professor Doncaster and explain...Panic rose up, sudden and completely overwhelming. Her whole academic life was over.
Then she started to giggle. The giggles turned into laughter as she thought of the absurd conversation she'd have to have with Doncaster. She sat for a few minutes, then wiped tears from her eyes.
Get a grip, girl.
Her voice echoed in the library. She sat back, idly playing with her pen. All her work was for nothing, a waste of time...
But she'd met Ross. And he loved her, and she loved him. Nothing else mattered. Her life had changed, radically changed. The rest, school, her thesis...Professor Doncaster...she'd figure that out later.
It was too early for lunch, and as much as she wanted to talk to Ross, he had work to do. There were still books she wanted to read though, and it might be nice to sit here, on the window ledge, and read about the castle. Now that she knew its secret, she could imagine Ross in the words, in the images written over the centuries.
The first book she opened was about dragons in general, with a chapter about Castle Nathair. Turning the page she saw an engraving done in the late 18th century, of a dragon flying above in the sky above the castle. It dwarfed the building, its mouth open, flames licking the towers. The chapter was brief, only repeating other accounts of the dragon legend. The artist must have had an overactive imagination.
She studied the engraving, looking for Ravena perched on the dragon's back. But there was no tiny form, no woman, perched on the dragon's back.
That dragon was Ross. She ran her finger over the image. It was a fantastic tale, still hard to believe. But she didn't think he was lying to her. Or maybe she hoped he wasn't. Somewhere in the back of her mind was the nagging thought that he was unbalanced...mad...crazy. It felt disloyal to even admit she still had doubts, and she quickly pushed the thoughts away.
The chapter ended, as all the other accounts had, with no definite proof, just the same questions, without answers. But she had the answer. If she could believe Ross.
It had started raining again, the light going soft and hazy in the library. She closed the book and set it aside, and tugged the shawl around her shoulders. It was nice here, cozy, and she let her mind drift, thinking about what it would be like to live here, in this castle, with Ross. It was a fantasy, really, but she leaned her head against the leaded glass and let it play out in her mind as she watched the gray clouds scudding low over the misty hills. It wasn't long before her eyes grew heavy, and she closed them.
In her daydream they ate, and made love, and she wrote in the library. This little daydream made her smile, and she let herself drift into sleep.
But she lost control of the daydream and it turned darker. The gray morning light changed into night, the darkness rushing up to her, engulfing her. She was lost in the castle, couldn't find her way...couldn't find Ross.
As with all her dreams, she was mute, and she tried calling his name. All that came out were choked sounds, nothing anyone would hear.
Fumbling at the base of the stairs, she climbed toward the roof. He'd be on the roof; she'd find him and he'd make everything okay. But the further she climbed, the more deteriorated the stairs became, until she was on her hands and knees, slowly and painfully scaling an almost vertical set of rocks and rubble.
Gradually she became aware it was light around her, and she lifted her head. Above her was a small opening, a patch of gray sky. Her heart beat faster and she climbed faster.
Just as she reached the opening, as light washed over her, the sky turned a bloody red, flames licking the stones around her. Wings beat over her head and a terrible shriek filled her ears, mixing with her scream. She lost her grip on the damp stones, falling backwards, painfully hitting her arms and legs on the stairs. There was a crash, and then darkness.
“Arianna...”
She opened her eyes, staring into Ross's face. The sensations of the dream were still with her, and she grabbed his arm to keep from falling.
“Ross...oh, my god.”
He sat on the window ledge and pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her shoulders.
“Twas a dream, naught but a dream.” He pulled her head onto his shoulder, and stroked her hair. It took her whole minutes before her body relaxed, before the sharp edge of terror left her.
“Can ye tell me about it?” His voice was low, and even as she tried to remember the dream, it was fading.
“I was going up to the roof, and then I saw something at the opening at the top. It was...” Her voice faltered. That image was perfectly clear.
“Ye saw a dragon.”
“Yes.”
He had the book in his hand, looking at the cover. “Ye read this and then fell asleep. It colored your dreams.” The book rested on his lap and he ran one long finger over the faded embossed lettering on the cover.
“I ken the book. The chapter about the castle...the etching isn't far off from the truth.”
She turned to look up at him. “But you didn't look like that? All flames and talons...” The sounds from her dream came back, the shriek still loud in her ears. “You weren't like that?”
“Arianna, there's a lot about this I tried to forget. But there are things I canna erase from my mind.” He drew in a breath, and she felt a shiver run through him.
“Ravena was a harsh mistress, as a witch, and as a woman. She rode me, drove me hard. I did things I dinna want to do. I killed when I dinna want to kill.
“But there were times...after...when there was pleasure in being a dragon. Flying home to the castle, I could pretend for a short time she wasn't there, and I could fly free. But she was always there, to remind me.”
“Did you ever change...shift... without her? After, I mean.”
“I never wanted to. Even if she were gone. There was no joy left.”
She sat up, turning to look at him. “Would you do it for me?”
His eyes held hers, emotions she couldn't read swirling in their dark depths. She was pretty sure he would say no, and she was going to try to take back her words, or apologize, but she could even get her thoughts organized he put a finger to her lips.
“It's sommat I would have said no to if asked. But with you...” He traced a finger along her hairline, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “For you...I would.”
“Can you still shift? Has the magic faded?”
“I feel it in my bones...the magic is still there. The dragon is still beneath my skin.” He closed his eyes. He suddenly looked tired. But then he looked at her and smiled. At l
east his lips curved into a smile, but nothing from it reached his eyes.
“Dinna worry, Arianna. It will be fine.” He looked out the window. “It's been long enough...maybe they've forgotten around here. Maybe...” He turned back to her, and he looked like his old self, lips curled in his familiar sexy smile.
“With ye, it will be grand. The moon will be almost full tonight, and if the clouds break...”
“You'll do it? Really?”
“Really.”
She threw her arms around his neck. “I had dreams...other dreams., before this one, about flying. I know it sounds silly, but I think it was with a dragon. There were claws...”
“Talons.”
“Talons, sorry. It was like being in a cage, but I felt safe somehow.” Then the rest of the dream came back to her, and she shuddered. “I think I fell in those dreams too.”
“Then are ye still wanting to fly?”
“Yes. Of course. It's going to be you...you won't let anything happen.”
“Nay...nothing will happen to ye.”
She let him hold her and they sat for a long time, looking down at the gray green willows, the river running over dark rocks, the sky showing blue between patches of clouds. If the clouds cleared...
“Thank you for the shawl.”
“Welcome. I'll have to show ye how to light the fires. It's always chilly in this room.”
He left her there, sitting at the window, and went back to the forge. For a long time she sat with the book, trying to imagine what it would be like, to fly. Then her thoughts turned to Ross, and what it must have been like for him, to be controlled by Ravena, to have freedom taken away. To be made to do things against his will. She shuddered, and returned to book to its place on the shelf.
Chapter Twelve
Ross finally came in from the forge just as the sun was setting. She'd paced back and forth, wanting to be with him, afraid she was being a pest. He'd gone back to forge after lunch, and for the first time since she'd been at the castle, he'd closed the doors. It wasn't that she felt unwelcome, but she sensed he wanted time alone.
And she really couldn't blame him. Every time he'd shifted into a dragon, there had been death and bloodshed. She'd tired not to think too much about what it must have been like, to be at Ravena's beck and call, to be under her complete control. For someone like Ross, a man who was clearly his own person, it must have been horrible.
“I see ye dressed for the occasion.”
She turned around as he came into the kitchen, bringing with him the scent of the forge. It had been an easy choice for her, and she looked down at the white linen and plaid wool.
“It seemed appropriate. I hope you don't mind, but I found these.” She lifted the edge of her skirt, showing Ross the leather boots she'd found in a chest in Bridget's room.
“No worries. Help yeself to whatever ye need. Ye didn't happen to find a corset did ye?” He was at the sink, pouring water into a basin, but she caught his grin.
“I did, but I wasn't sure I wanted to wear one tonight. I had the impression they were rather...tight when laced. I think it might make screaming hard.”
His glance at her was bemused. “Ye plan on screaming? If that be the case, if ye be afraid...”
“No, not from fear. Maybe excitement.”
At that he shook his head, and turned back to the basin of water.
“I want a wash, and then to eat, and then we can climb to the roof. The moon rises not long after the sun sets, but we should wait till those afoot are abed.”
“Alright.” She sat down at the table. Ross pulled his shirt over his head, dropping it on the other chair. “I'm not sure I can eat anything. I'm too nervous.”
He splashed his face, sluicing water into his hair. “Ye might not want to eat much, if being in the air will make you ill.” Dripping water onto the stone floor, he reached for a linen towel, wiping his face.
“How long do we wait?”
Ross was pulling cheese and bread from the cupboard. “No one goes to bed before midnight around here.” He brought the food on a plate to the table, a glass and the wine.
“Ye want a glass? Might settle the stomach and the nerves.”
She nodded. “That might be nice, yes.”
He poured for both of them, then sat down.
“What do we do between now and midnight?” She took a sip of the wine.
“Oh, there are a few things that come to a body's mind.” He broke off a piece of bread, took a bite, and watched her as he chewed. “Lest ye be too nervous.”
“You're incorrigible, you know that?”
“Aye. But so are you. Ye haven't been saying no to me, have ye?”
She rolled her eyes. “No, I haven't. But...”
He dipped the crust of bread into his wine, nodding. “But no tonight. Tis alright. I'll survive till morning without.”
She couldn't help but laugh. “You'll be fine without for one night.”
“Ye think ye know me then, Arianna?”
“I know enough.”
“Enough?”
“I know your secrets, Ross.”
He looked up from his plate, brows drawing together. “Aye. Ye do.” He tipped his head. “And do ye think less of me for them?”
The room had grown darker, and Ross rose, lit a candle in a holder and set it on the table between them. He brushed his hand over her shoulder as he took his seat.
“No, of course not. Why would you think that?”
“It can't be easy to love a man who's told ye he's cursed to never die, who's admitted to killing his lover, and who claims to be able to shift into a dragon.”
If he'd told her he'd read her thoughts, she wouldn't have been surprised. He'd summed up pretty much every doubt she'd had sitting in the library that afternoon. But she couldn't tell if he was teasing or not. It was never clear with Ross.
“It's not a choice, you know. I can't help that I love you. It's not something I can turn off, just because things have happened to you, that you have a history. You didn't ask to be cursed, or to have done what you did for Bridget. Or to be cursed again to be a dragon. It's not like you woke up one day and asked for any of this.”
Ross tilted his head to the side, watching her as he chewed. “That's an interesting way to look at it, I suppose.” He pushed aside his empty plate, and poured himself another glass of wine. “I'm relieved to hear ye love me still, even knowing all that about me. I'm not sure I'd be willing to love a man who sounded mad.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Aye, always.”
“What's it like to change...shift? To become something else?”
“If yer asking if it hurts, it does. There's a moment where it seems my body is turning itself inside out. I suppose it is, in a way. The dragon lives inside me, and for it to come out...it's a painful process.”
“Oh My God… then I don’t want you to do it.”
He was shaking his head. “Nay. I want to. I thought about what it would be like, to fly again, to fly under my own will, not under someone else's.” He leaned forward with such intensity she automatically sat back. His eyes had taken on a gleam she hadn't seen before, a strange excitement.
“I'll tell ye another secret, Arianna. I loved the flying, the freedom of soaring through the sky—if I could forget Ravena was there. The moonlight around me, the blackness of the sky. It was...pure magic. I ken that sounds contrary to how magic has been used against me. But the feeling...I remember it like it was yesterday. And I want that feeling again. I want that feeling with ye there.”
“How long do we have to wait?”
“Not much longer.”
* * *
He took her up through a different part of the castle, through dark halls with closed doors, the candle he held throwing distorted shadows over the walls. Cobwebs draped the walls, clung to the corners of the doorways. It smelled even more unused than the rest of the castle. After twists and turns, climbing up another narrow set of stairs th
at circled around. They must be in the turret.
They ended up on a small landing with a ladder that rose into the darkness.
“I'll go first.” He gave her the candleholder, then climbed up the ladder. She could see a wooden plank door at the top, and Ross pushed it first with his hand, then put his shoulder against it.
“Step back.”
She took a step back, holding the candle up, although its feeble light barely reached Ross up at the top of the ladder.
Ross grunted, ramming the wood with his body. There was a bang and a crash, and pieces of wood fell down onto the stones.
“Are you okay?”
“Aye. Give me the candle.” He disappeared up the ladder, leaving her in darkness.
She took a tentative step forward, craning her neck to look up. There was a perfect square of night sky overhead, pinpointed with brilliant stars. Then his head appeared in the opening. She reached for the ladder.
“Can ye make it?” He reached down and she took his hand, helping her up the ladder, taking the candle lantern from her, and she climbed the ladder onto the roof. Ross set the lantern aside.
The moon was full, bright silver, sitting above the trees, and casting soft light over the countryside. If she wasn't contemplating this bizarre adventure, she'd be entranced by the night sky, the few stars bright enough to compete with the moon shining overhead.
The night air was cool, and she was glad she'd worn the shawl. It had fallen down from her shoulders and she tugged it higher. Ross moved closer, reaching for the woolen fabric.
“Here...like this.” He crossed the ends over her breasts, then tucked them into the belt around her waist. “Ye need both hands if ye'll be riding a dragon.”
“Riding a dragon...” As excited as she'd been, those three words sent a shiver through her. She looked up at him, hands suddenly shaking. “Oh, my God, Ross. This is real.”
“Did ye doubt me?” There was no harshness in his words. “Do ye doubt me?”
“No, I...it's just...standing here, hearing you say the words. I don't doubt you, but it still seems impossible.”
Kiss Of Fire (BBW Dragon Shifter Paranormal Romance): Dragon Shifter Romance Page 10
