by Amelia Jade
The food had been delicious, and because it hadn’t been a fancy restaurant, Zander had been right once again. Riss’s work clothing had been more than adequate. In fact, it was he who was overdressed, especially when they went to the ice cream parlor afterward.
That was one thing Riss had never understood about shifters. They loved ice cream. Like, obsessive levels of like. Cadia had, by best guesses, around ten thousand people combined between the town itself and the sprawling countryside around it. Most places of that size would have one, perhaps two ice cream joints at best.
There were fifteen in Cadia.
Fifteen.
It made no logical sense to her, but as an ice cream aficionada herself, it worked out just fine. Zander had taken her to Stubbe’s Ice Cream Parlor. It was, as far as she was concerned, the best one in town. While it wasn’t the fanciest, if one was there for the ice cream, and not to be seen, it was the place to be.
Riss had thought that she would be gazed upon like normal while out with Zander, and had prepared herself for the usual cavalcade of looks that came her way when she went out in public. A human in Cadia was a bit of a rarity, and many normally looked upon her with disdain.
Officially, Cadia was welcome to humans.
But she’d never heard a bigger crock of shit in her life. All too often she’d gone home in tears because of the casual bigotry directed her way. Many shifters were either indifferent, or even polite to her. But those that weren’t could be very vicious. Growing up in Cadia had given her a very tough skin, but even then, the barbs seemed to penetrate it.
Not tonight though. Not while she was on the arm of Zander. Shifters who would normally have looked down on her, or even outright sneered, nodded at the pair respectfully, or greeted them with warm smiles and handshakes.
There were plenty for whom the courtesies were not faked. But even those were friendlier than they would have been to her alone. Zander it seemed, was a bit of a big deal, more well-known than she had thought. By a large margin, she noted as yet another shifter walked by, dipping their head respectfully.
It wasn’t fair, because most of it was directed at her date—yes, she’d accepted that for the night at least, he was her date, not anyone else’s—but she didn’t care. All that mattered to her was that nobody was hissing at her, staring her down, or otherwise making her feel like she shouldn’t even exist.
“What is it?” Zander asked as he set his empty cup down, having finished the last of his ice cream with a flourish.
“I’m sorry?” she said, shaking her head slightly and focusing across the picnic table in the middle of the city park where they’d settled down to eat their treats.
“You had a little smile on your face while you stared off into nowhere. Something has you happy,” he said.
You.
But she couldn’t say that. Not yet at least. Riss was bold, and for the most part considered herself to be a strong woman. That was still a little too forward, even for her, however. Maybe after several more dates, when it would actually be appropriate for them to say such things. But not yet.
Before she could speak up, however, lightning lit up the sky, and a crack of thunder rolled over them almost immediately.
Seconds later, the first thick raindrops began to pelt them with cold water.
“Time to go!” he said with a laugh as they rose from the table simultaneously.
“Agreed!” she said with a giggle.
They deposited their refuse in the garbage and began to walk swiftly across the park, toward her house. It was perhaps a ten-minute walk at a casual pace. At their accelerated rate, she figured no more than five to seven minutes.
“The rain isn’t going to hold off,” Zander pronounced, at the exact same time she came to that conclusion.
“Nope, we’re going to get—”
The skies opened up and a torrent of water washed down the street and drenched them.
“Soaked,” she finished, her clothes sticking to her body, wrapping the light material around her curves.
“We can move swifter this way,” he said, and without waiting for her permission, Zander scooped her up into his arms.
Then he began to run.
“Holy shit!” she exclaimed as the buildings began to fly by. “Don’t wipe out in the water!”
“I will be fine,” he assured her, his arms not even wavering as he held her tight to his chest, helping absorb some of her motion from the bouncing.
It had been a long, long time since Riss had felt so small in someone’s arms as he held her aloft like she were nothing more than a feather. It…stirred something in her, a basic instinct, that she’d not known was a part of her.
She liked feeling helpless in his arms.
Well that’s a bit of a surprise. File that one away for later Riss, it might just come in handy.
Within minutes, they were at the foot of the stairs to her apartment. Zander set her down, and they climbed the stairs together, with her leading the way. She let her hips sway a little more than normal as she ascended, a wicked grin spreading over her face.
She reached the top and paused, just before reaching the overhang of her porch roof as a hand landed on her shoulder. The raindrops slowed as she turned, until they seemed to stand practically still in the air, frozen in time like everything else, except her and Zander.
Zander Pierce. Dragon shifter extraordinaire.
He stepped in close to her as she turned around. The hand that had been on her shoulder went to her face, and pulled her up onto her tiptoes as he bent down to her. He kissed her fully, without any more words, without anything. He simply pressed his lips to hers, the searing touch of them blasting away the chill the rain had been sinking into her bones, banishing it with a gust of warm air that seemed to heat the very marrow within.
Her own hands rose automatically. She pushed her fingers through his sandy-brown hair, the wet locks draping over her skin. Tightening her grip, she pulled him back to her as he made to part, letting him know he should continue, not stop. There would be time for air later.
Hungrily he parted her lips, exploring her mouth as they fenced back and forth, bodies soaked by rain yet pressed firmly together.
Hot desert breezes swam through her system as their kiss went on, and on. Riss felt her knees tremble, until one of Zander’s hands wrapped around the small of her back and held her up, so that she could once more focus on him.
Other things were happening in her body though, as they prepared for what would happen next.
If.
If it happened next.
Oh no, it was going to. If he made the moves, Riss knew she wouldn’t be able to say no. She wanted him too badly.
Then abruptly Zander was gone, his lips receding from hers as he stood upright, a look of confusion and something that closely resembled panic flashing through his eyes.
“I am sorry, Riss.” A shake of his massive head sent water flying everywhere. “I should not have been so blunt. Thank you for the wonderful evening,” he said, bringing one of her hands to his mouth, so he could kiss the back of it, sending heat surging up her arm once more.
A door slammed nearby.
And then, just like that, he was gone. He didn’t descend the stairs, but instead Zander hurled himself from them as she watched, clearing the story in a single bound. He didn’t pause when he landed, but took off into the rain, his brand new suit flapping dejectedly behind him, just as soaked as her work clothes.
“What the hell just happened?” she said, standing out in the downpour for another handful of seconds, her lips still tingling from his kiss.
And wow, could he kiss. It was soft and tender, yet hard and passionate. Chaste and proper, and horny and aroused. Just the right tongue, without too much saliva. Her entire body was standing at the ready from that one kiss. Her nipples were hard nubs, pressing against her bra, and between her legs….
Well, she was going to need another bath tonight, that was for sure.
; ***
Zander
Annoyed at himself, he darted off into the rain. The suit was probably ruined, but that wasn’t what was bothering him. He could just get another. The cost was negligible in the grand scheme of things.
No, it was deeper than a bit of wasted money. Zander hadn’t meant to kiss Riss. He’d planned to court her, without diving too deep into the relationship. Once he introduced her to his mother and convinced her that Riss was his mate, then he could let her down gently. He liked the little human. She was fun, feisty and strong, all qualities he admired.
That alone was worthy of not hurting her any more than was absolutely necessary.
Or at least, it had been, hadn’t it?
He ran on, until he came to the first public building he could find. It would have what he was looking for. The gates around it were still open, and he proceeded inside. There, off to his left was what he wanted.
A paved walkway led from the cobblestone street up to the front of the building. But it wasn’t the building itself that concerned him. It was where the little pathway that branched off from the entryway led, that he needed. At its end, the walkway widened into a circle well over fifty feet in diameter.
The hardened stones, six inches thick at a minimum, were laid out in no discernable pattern. There were no runes or other markings on it. It was simply a heavy-duty circle formed out of the earth’s natural elements.
Zander moved to the center of it and brought his arms up in front of him, forearms pressed together in front of his face, and closed his eyes. Reaching deep inside his mind, he found the ball of fury contained within, the whirling mass of air that spun inside the spherical containment his mind had erected around it.
With a sigh of delight, he released it from its prison. Winds raced through him, singing their praises at this unexpected joy.
Internally wasn’t the only place changes were happening though. Anyone watching him would have seen a miniature tornado appear as if from thin air, wrapping him inside of its protective cocoon, moving so swiftly that it began to occlude him from sight. The whirling air expanded in size, doubling, and then doubling again, not stopping until it encompassed well over half of the stone circle, and still it grew.
The air began to shriek as it whistled past him, but Zander barely noticed. He was in the midst of his transformation, and past the impenetrable screen of the air around him, impressive changes were taking place.
His limbs had swollen in size, his arms lengthening until he rested on all fours instead of upright. Already-tanned skin took on a brass sheen to it, a metallic glow that increased as his skin hardened, scales the size of a knight’s shield pushing forth from underneath, covering him in a protective layer that few things could pierce.
Joints rippled and reversed and his body suddenly seemed far away. This was the most disorienting part of the change for Zander, when his neck elongated to a hundred times its normal length. He knew that to anyone observing it took a few seconds at best, but to him, the one experiencing all the changes, it felt like so much more.
Pressure slammed into his shoulders as muscles and skin bunched, forming massive bulges that suddenly split open as desert-colored wings exploded from his back. His flat face jutted forward, sprouting three-inch-long teeth at the same time.
Then, and only then, when the final parts of his change were complete, did the whistling, shrieking globe of wind die away into nothing. That was the reason for the stones. With Zander it wasn’t too much of an issue. As he finished changing the wind simply pushed outward until it dissipated. But that was because he was a Gale Dragon, master of the winds. While he was dangerous, it wasn’t as bad as many of the other types.
Fire Dragons, for instance, when they finished shifting, were surrounded by fire which would push its way out in a six-inch-high wave that would stretch right to the limits of the circles. If it weren’t for such shifting areas, vast parts of the earth would be scorched.
Or frozen, by the Frost Dragons, or blasted by the lightning of the Electro Dragons. That was why most buildings had such circles nearby.
Zander flexed and his wings shot out wide, stretching them briefly before he summoned the energy to take to the skies. He was in no rush now, having left Riss far behind.
Taloned paws scraped the stone as he remembered his flight from her place only minutes ago. Rain still came down from the sky, splashing against his scales and wings in an irritating, but ultimately ignorable fashion.
The embarrassment he felt, however, could not be washed away so easily. With an irritable snort he took to the skies with a powerful jump, his wings sweeping downward to lift him clear of the ground.
Five strong wingbeats later the ground was already receding below him as he found a nearby thermal and rode it high into the sky. His body knew what it was doing, which was good, because his brain was far away.
She’s just a pawn in this, Zander. You can’t let yourself go falling for her. That would be most…unwise of you at this stage of the game.
Another voice rose up from inside him, doing little to reassure Zander that he was still sane, as the two of them began to go back and forth while he winged across the sky to his destination.
There’s something about this girl. She’s…different. And not deserving of the hurt that will come when it ends.
He snarled and unleashed a blast of his breath weapon into the sky, a cyclone of air that blasted through a nearby cloud, the whirling power of his attack scattering the gray rain-filled cushion into nothingness.
You need her, so that you can convince your mother to turn everything over to you, and not that imbecile Kieran.
But do you have to do it so secretly? She might go along with the ploy if you just spoke to her, told her the truth.
It’s too late for that now. I’m in too deep.
There was no reply, as if his conscience, the part that was urging him to tell her everything, had no counter argument to it.
That was the truth of it though, he was in too deep. His actions tonight had made it so. The moment his lips touched hers, those soft, plump pink-stained lips, it had been too late. The connection had been made, though Riss wasn’t the only one who felt it. Zander had as well, if he could just bring himself to accept it.
He bared his dragon teeth in a silent snarl.
No woman had power over him!
Yet even as he said that to himself, he knew it wasn’t true. Not anymore.
His destination came into view, and thankful for the reprieve from his own mind, he began to descend. The lights were still on, indicating the person he’d come to see was still awake.
***
“Mother?” he called, closing the front door behind him.
There was a rustling from a side room down the hallway, and then a woman emerged. Zander tried not to let his shock show at the effects age was having on her, but it was tough, so very tough.
“Hello Zander,” Irene Pierce said with a welcome smile, holding out her arms as her oldest—and only—son swept her up into a giant, but gentle hug.
“How are you?” he asked, setting her down.
“Oh, as well as I can be,” she replied, turning stiffly to move back into the room she had just exited. “Come on, come on.”
Zander followed close behind, practically doddering over her as the elderly woman made her way to a comfortable, if well worn, reclining chair.
She sighed as the cushions molded themselves to her body, and Zander took a seat opposite her, noting the way the light splashed across her, highlighting the white of her hair and the frailty of her limbs.
His mother had had Zander late in life, having been near the millennium mark before he came into the world. Now approaching her twelve hundredth birthday—not that shifters really marked those besides the big one hundred and one thousand—she was exceptionally old.
“So,” she said without preamble. “Have you found a mate, my son?”
Despite the frailty of her body and the swiftness with whic
h it was getting worse—when dragons aged, it could happen in years, not decades, and his mother had months left, at best—there was still a fire of intelligence and passion in her eyes. The mind didn’t fail, only the body, which was perhaps the worst of it all. His mother was trapped in there, knowing everything that was going on, but unable to change a thing about it.
“Not yet, Mom,” he said with a softness uncharacteristic for him. If anyone else had heard him speaking, they would have denied that it could have come from his mouth. It wasn’t the tenderness with which he could speak to a lover, but the basic love that one had for their parent.
“I see. Hand me the phone, would you?” she asked, pointing at a cordless phone sitting on the table next to the chair he’d settled into.
Despite his best efforts, his mother had not been willing to adapt to modern cellphone technology. At least, he thought as he handed it over to her, he’d gotten her away from that damn rotary phone she’d been so fond of! That was a bit of technology she’d taken to right away. The instant phones became available there had been one in his house.
“Who are you calling?” he asked, puzzled that she would interrupt his visit with a phone call.
“Kieran. I’m going to tell him to come over and sign the papers.”
“Mother!” he exclaimed, gently snatching the phone away from her. “Stop it. It’s been two weeks. I’ve had over two centuries. You can’t expect me to just randomly find someone.”
Like a certain random girl at the clothing store…
“Kieran would have by now,” his mother said, half teasing.
“Kieran already has a mate, mother. That’s not the issue though. You know as well as I do that Kieran does not take after Uncle Morgan. He would make a mockery of the family name.”
His mother just smiled, but she did set the phone down. For now. Her brother Morgan, next in line if something happened to Irene and Zander, was a well-respected pillar of the Cadian community. His son Kieran, however…was quite the opposite.
Simply put, Kieran was an asshole.
