Kiss Of Fire (BBW Dragon Shifter Paranormal Romance): Dragon Shifter Romance

by Catherine Vale

  “I know. I just have a hard time telling the difference between when you're serious and when you're kidding.”

  He tipped her face up to his. “I never joke about making love with you.” His kiss was lingering, but she sensed a restlessness in him. Then he stepped away, taking her hand again, and they walked to the edge of the river. Water gurgled over the stones, and she wished they could stay here, make love under the stars with Ross. But the anticipation of flying again, and flying to the sea, sent a shiver through her.

  “I know. But that wasn't making love. That was flying on a dragon. There's a big difference.”

  He shook his head, and she heard his soft laugh. “Aye, point taken. What did ye do today?”

  “I did some reading. There are some fascinating books in the library. But then you know that.”

  “Aye. I do. I collected most of them.”

  “I did some thinking as well, and made a decision.” They were walking back toward the castle now. “My thesis is pretty much shot. There's no sense in writing the legend of the castle, if I'd have to expose you and your life here. So I'm going to talk to Professor Doncaster...”

  There was the slightest hesitation in Ross's step, a subtle tightening of his hand in hers. “Then ye'd be going back to University? Back to Canada?”

  Her words hung in the air, and she heard them the way Ross had. She squeezed his hand.

  “No...I mean...at some point I'll have to. I mean, I have a life there...back in Canada. My mother...friends...school.”

  “Have a life?” His voice was almost inaudible. “I ken, you have a life.” The emphasis was clear.

  She stopped again, pulling on his hand. “Will you listen and let me finish? You're so stubborn sometimes.”

  He turned to her. The sun had set, but the moon was still below the horizon. She could just make out his shape, dark against the darker sky.

  “Talk. I'm listening.”

  “I have to go back to tie up all the loose ends. I have to do something about school. I was going to say that I need to talk to Professor Doncaster, to find out if I can transfer the work I've done in Nova Scotia to some place here. I have an apartment I have to give up...people to say good-bye to. My mother...” The words caught in her throat. That life seemed so far away, so distant. Not just the miles between them, but distant in a way she'd never imagined. It was as if she'd been away from that life for three hundred years. For one startling moment she knew how he felt, how it was to have everything you'd known and loved be in the past. She closed her eyes. It wasn't like that for her though; a plane ticket could bring that life back to her in just a few hours.

  Then he was reaching for her in the dark, fingers brushing against her arm, pulling her close. “I am a fool. Forgive me, Arianna, for being impatient. I want this new life with ye to start now…to think it’s already started. I've waited for so long...I'd given up hope of ever having anyone again.”

  “I forgive you for being impatient, and stubborn.” She wished she could see his face. “I want to be here with you, Ross. I really do. But I have to finish things back home. I'm kind of stuck between two worlds. You understand, right?”

  “Aye. I do.” His lips found hers, and she could tell from his kiss that he was smiling.

  They stood for a long time in the dark, soft kisses, softer touches. Time stood still for her. When Ross stepped away, she was dizzy with desire, with love. She caught the glint of his eyes, silver in the dark.

  “The moon is up, Arianna. It’s time. Come with me.”

  * * *

  The moon cast its soft glow over the rooftop, over Ross’s face. His expression was serious, but the corner of his mouth quirked up into a smile.

  “Did ye forget? I have that effect on women, ye ken.”

  Before she could say anything he slipped away, disappearing behind the wall again. This time she was ready for what she heard, but the noises were still hard to listen to. It sounded painful, like his body was being torn into pieces. She wondered why she’d ever asked him to do this. But he’d wanted to, agreed to it, and he’d clearly enjoyed their first flight as much as she had. She turned away from the parapet wall, watching the moon now riding high in the sky. It seemed larger than last night

  You’re being silly, Arianna. There’s no way in hell you could ever make Ross do something he didn’t want to do.

  There was a thump behind her and her heart sped up. There was a rustle, and that purring sound, and she smiled. Something bumped against her hip and she turned around.

  “Ross.” She reached out, stroking his face. “You make a pretty handsome dragon, you know?”

  Ross lowered his head, rubbing his neck against her arm. In a not so subtle move, he brushed his head against her breast.

  “That’s going to have to wait for later, okay?”

  With a snort he lifted his head, and she caught the glint of moonlight in his eyes. They glowed silver for a moment, the diagonal slit of the pupils dilating. It was him, in the looks he gave her, in the way he held his head. She never considered how she'd feel about him in this form. It had been the flying that had captivated her last night. Now she saw him whole, an amazing man, and now a mystical dragon. Her heart swelled, and she blinked back tears.

  “I love you, Ross.” Cradling his big head, she gently kissed his cheek. His scales were warm, soft like she remembered. “Now take me for a ride.”

  He lowered his body, as he’d done last night, and she climbed up his front leg, onto his shoulder. She’d brought a second shawl tonight, and she laid it over his back, at the gap in the ridge of scales. At the touch of the wool on his back, he swung his head around.

  “Don’t give me that look. I wanted a saddle blanket tonight. No offense, but you’re a bit of a rough ride.”

  She’d never known that dragons had eyebrows, but now she saw Ross lower his. The snort this time was unmistakably one Ross would have made. She laughed and climbed onto his back.

  Last night she’d been too excited to notice any details. Tonight was different; she wanted to notice everything, from the way the air smelled—like peat smoke and pine—to how everything felt.

  It surprised her how warm he was beneath her body. They’d moved to the edge of the roof and he stood, looking out over the countryside. Her legs had grown warm, the heat seeping through the wool of her skirt. She was almost sorry now that she’d brought the shawl. But she could hike up her skirt, and she did, mesmerized by the feel of his scales against her skin.

  With a rustle Ross extended his wings. For a moment the moon was blocked out, shadows flickering over her face as he stretched. He snorted once, and then stepped off the edge of the building.

  Knowing what was coming didn’t make that first heart-stopping drop any easier. The world rushed up toward them, and she grabbed the edge of the ridge in front of her. The wind tangled her hair, and for an instant reality blurred, the world taking on a dream-like quality. She closed her eyes as a wave of vertigo washed over her.

  He lifted his wings, pumping hard, his body tensing beneath her thighs. She opened her eyes to find herself looking straight at the moon. It filled her vision and she threw her head back, laughing wildly as the wind rushed past.

  But the flight tonight was different. There were no dips or circles, no playful turns through the air. He rose, banked, and with wings rising and falling in strong strokes, the moon riding over her shoulder set his course. They were headed to the sea.

  The air grew cooler, and she pulled her skirt down over her legs. Below them the land flattened out, and more than once she saw Ross's faint shadow flitting over the fields. It must have been terrifying for anyone outside, hearing the rush of wings, looking up, seeing a dragon flying overhead. It was no wonder the legend had endured all these years.

  She strained to see ahead, to see the water. For a long time she thought she was looking at flat fields, but then she realized the moon was shining across the sea, that they were following the silver path toward the horizon. She'
d lost all sense of direction. Then abruptly the land fell away and they were over the water.

  She wished now he could have taken her to Loch Ness; she'd asked, but he'd said there were too many people, that he might be seen.

  He banked, circling back toward the land. But she couldn't see anything but water below. He'd taken her out, very far out, all in what seemed a matter of minutes.

  For a long time he glided on silent wings, the only sound the wind. It was so peaceful, so calm. If she could have anything else in her life with Ross, this would be it, to ride the wind over the sea.

  The smell of salt on the air was subtle, a tang she tried to catch, but it was elusive. Looking down over Ross's shoulder, she watched the dark water flash by beneath them. The thrill was beyond description. Beneath her was dark water, unknown depths, hidden life. They were suspended between the moon and the water. She felt weightless, but connected with Ross in a way she'd never thought possible.

  She relaxed, watching the moon pace them as he sailed and turned, learning to anticipate his next move by the subtle shift of his body beneath her, the ripple of muscles and scales, the subtle pitch of his wings.

  Suddenly, just at the corner of her vision, there was a bright blue light. There must be a storm over the horizon, lightning playing over the water ahead of them. She turned around, expecting to see storm clouds rising behind them. But it wasn't a storm. It was a dragon.

  With a rustle Ross folded his wings, diving suddenly toward the water. A streak of blue light zipped past them. It hit the water below them with a sizzle, sending up a geyser of steam. The air was filled with an awful smell of sulfur.

  She crouched down, clutching the ridge. A scream welled up inside her. She didn't know what was happening, wanted Ross to tell her. But of course that was impossible. All she could do was hang on, her heart in her throat, her stomach doing flips and turns as they fell from the sky.

  Ross pulled up at what felt like the last possible moment, skimming the surface of the water. Another bolt hit beside them, water and steam hitting her in the face. It burned, stung, the smell disgusting. She risked letting go of Ross long enough to scrub at her face with the edge of her shawl.

  They turned sharply, Ross taking them up into the sky up on strong fast wing beats. She got her first good look at the other dragon, and for the first time saw the woman riding on its back. It must be, could only be, a witch. Black and silver fabric fluttered around her, and she had reins in her hand, pulling hard on the dragon's head, and the beast banked sharply.

  The woman raised her hand over her head, a ball of blue glowing in her palm. They were close enough that Arianna saw the expression on the woman's face, lips curled in a cruel sneer. With a look of terrible joy, the woman flung the ball in their direction. Arianna screamed, crouching lower against Ross's back.

  But this time Ross wasn't fast enough and she watched in horror as the ball of light hit him just beneath one wing. His steady wing beats faltered, and then dropped crazily for a heart-stopping moment, threatening to plunge both of them into the sea. She closed her eyes, grabbing the scales ahead of her.

  But the impact didn't happen. She opened her eyes just as he tip of Ross's wing caught the surface of the water, tipping them sideways. She lost her grip, the shawl beneath her sliding, pitching her sideways. A strangled scream broke from her lips as she scrambled madly to keep from falling off. But he straightened out, and she pulled herself upright. His flight was awkward, but he rose, circled, and headed back toward land.

  She risked a look over her shoulder. The dragon flew above, clearly following them. From the labored way Ross flew, it was clear he was injured, but she couldn't tell how badly. But he kept flying, struggling to gain any height, skimming just above the trees. At this rate, it would take only moments for the woman and her dragon to overtake them. Arianna's heart was in her throat, her hands clammy with sweat.

  Arianna clung to Ross, her hair whipping her face, her skirt and shawl flapping madly around her. She peered over her shoulder, expecting to see the dragon and rider closing the distance between them.

  But the dragon and rider weren't any closer. They kept their distance, pacing them. Another dragon had joined the first, flying high above them, but coming now closer. The hair rose up on the back of Arianna's neck; it was clear this was a game, they were prey. The women—and their dragons—were the predators.

  Beneath her Ross shuddered, and for a moment the dragons were forgotten as she tried to get a sense of how badly injured he really was, if he could make it back to the castle, or if he'd be forced to land out in the open. Her heart thumped in a sickening rhythm, thinking they'd be at a terrible disadvantage if they were caught in the open. At least at the castle, if they had time, they could get inside, get away from the witch and her dragon.

  But why were they being followed? The woman—she had to be a witch. There was nothing else she could be. If the witch wanted them dead, she could have killed them without them even knowing she was there. She was either toying with them, or there was something else going on.

  The terrain below had changed, the hills rising below them. She was pretty sure she knew where they were, and as the river came into view, she couldn't help smiling. They were almost home. They were almost safe.

  The castle came into view and Ross rose, crested the roof, dropping down onto the stones with a thud. He swung his head around, all but knocking her off his back. She half slid, half fell, her kilt catching, then tearing, on the ridge, landing on her back on the cold roof.

  Ross disappeared around the corner as she pushed up on her elbows. Scrambling to her feet, she pulled her kilt back down, brushed the hair out of her eyes. She waited, terrified, and trembling. It should only take a few moments for him to change, and then they could...

  “Ross!”

  There was a brilliant flash of light, and the stones at her feet exploded. She whirled around. Rising over the edge of castle wall was the dragon, the witch on its back smiling—if baring her teeth could be called a smile—at Arianna. With a rush of wind, a rustle of wings, it landed on its hind legs, rearing up over Arianna.

  “You'll not get away, this time, Ross Cameron.”

  Arianna stared in amazement, terror streaking her blood cold, preventing her from moving. This dragon wore a bit and harness, a terrible looking thing, black braided leather with spikes. The dragon roared, and she saw the cruel bit wedged in its mouth. The witched jerked the reins, and the dragon roared again. Blood dripped from its chin. The other dragon and rider appeared, landing on the other side of the roof.

  “And ye'll not stand on my roof and threaten us, Hectora.”

  Ross appeared, stepping between Arianna and the dragon. “Ye'll not come here and threaten me and mine. Leave my castle, Hectora.”

  Arianna's breath caught in her throat, her stomach dropping. She watched in horror as the woman dismounted from her dragon, appearing to float to the ground.

  “I'll do as I please, as long as I find you...and find you shifting.” She took a step forward. With shock, Arianna realized Hectora's feet weren't moving, that she was hovering an inch above the ground.

  “And this...mortal. Have you told her all your secrets?” Hectora turned her brilliant blue eyes toward Arianna. “Has he told you he kills the women he loves?”

  She let out a piercing cackle that echoed in the night air.

  “Has he told you he's cursed? That he'll live for centuries?” Hectora laughed again, the sound sharp and painful. “If he told you he's immortal, he told you a lie. It's against the rules for a witch to make someone immortal. But Ravena did the best she could. He'll age, but almost forever...and be very, very old, for a very, very long time.”

  “I've told her what she needs to know. Leave.”

  Hectora ignored him, and moved closer. Behind her the other rider had dismounted, and she stood beside her dragon, body tense, but only watching.

  “And you, Ross Cameron, how is it you can still shift? When I killed Raven
a, your ability to shift should have ended. Not the curse of a long life...but becoming a dragon. How can you still do this?” Her glowing eyes narrowed. In Hectora's face, Arianna saw suspicion, but something else, a covetous look that made Arianna's blood run cold.

  “Are you in league with another witch? Who is she? Where did you find her?”

  “I'm under no curse other than Ravena's. That it didn't end with her is my ill luck, nothing else. She wasna the best of witches, ye ken. Her magic must have been at fault, nothing I did.”

  Hectora waved her hand dismissively. “Regardless. You can shift without a witch. That is not allowed. You cannot fly without a rider, without a witch.” She took a step forward. “And you are wasting your time with this mortal, in more ways than one. There are things she cannot do for you that I can, and you know that.”

  “For three hundred years I've lived in this castle, never shifted, never flown. Until now. And now I will fly when I want, with who I want. Ye canna stop me. And ye canna tell me who to love.”

  “You think not? I can stop you right now, kill you in your tracks.” She threw her head back, her laugh like the sound of breaking glass. “And as far as love...you have no idea what a pale imitation of love she can give you. I can give you more, much more.”

  Hectora raised her hand, and Arianna watched in horror as a blue ball of light gathered in her palm. She stepped back from Ross, expecting him to follow, or at least move away. But he stood his ground, back straight, body relaxed.

  The ball of light grew and it was clear she was going to hurl or throw or do whatever witches did to hurt someone.

  “Ross!”

  “Even she has more sense than you do. Have you lost all your wits these last three hundred years?”

  “I'm not afraid of ye, Hectora. Ye're not as powerful as ye think.”

  Hectora's eyes blazed wildly, and she flung her hand forward. The blue light shot out, and Arianna lunged to the side, rolling onto her back. She sat up just as the ball reached Ross. He still stood, ramrod straight as the ball flew toward him.