by Kyl, Celia
His Scorching Desire
Celia Kyle
Marina Maddix
Contents
Blurb
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
About the Authors
Blurb
He's on the run and she's just the dragon to catch him. But when she does, will she ever want to let him go?
Dragon shifter Grizz Magna has become one of the most dangerous men in the world--one with nothing to lose. With a death sentence hanging over his head, he doesn't hesitate to escape prison when he gets the chance. Now he's being hunted by all of dragondom, including one particularly delicious, curvy agent from Wildridge Security.
Elektra Mico is a dragon shifter who only cares about bringing in the bad guys. While the other specialists at Wildridge are finding mates and generally enjoying life outside work, she dives deeper into her job, training harder than ever. When her gut tells her to break away from the team to track a rogue dragon escapee, she listens. She also listens when it tells her that the dragon with the sexy smirk and muscular body belongs to her--and she can't let him be taken captive again.
In the blink of an eye, their worlds are turned inside out. Grizz suddenly realizes he has everything to lose—namely, his fated mate. But will their unbreakable bond spell the end for both of them?
Chapter One
Grizz Magna dug his fingers under the tight metal collar strapped around his throat and scratched the stubbly flesh at the edge of his thick beard. The breakfast line took a single step forward. The tattooed walls of muscle in front of and behind him moved another step closer to the least appetizing slop he’d ever seen—something the prison passed off as scrambled eggs. Thankfully, he didn’t see any moldy patches in the serving dishes this time, so by the Los Angeles Shifter Holding Center’s standards, this was a treat for the inmates.
He glanced at one of the curved mirrors that loomed over the line of prisoners and caught a glimpse of his own blurry reflection. His light brown hair was longer than he normally liked, mainly because he never could be bothered to figure out how to tame it. Of course no one else in the place looked much better. The dark brown of his eyes only made the circles under them appear worse than they were. Or maybe not. He certainly felt as exhausted as he looked. If it weren’t for the full beard covering the lower half of his face, Grizz wouldn’t have been able to pick himself out of a line-up.
None of that really mattered, but seeing his human shape made him realize how much he missed his dragon form. Every now and then the powdered dragonsbane in his hollow metal collar shifted, bringing with it a twinge of bitterness toward the clever asshole who’d invented the damn thing, whoever it was.
The collars were a part of everyday life in the holding center. Dragon shifters who ended up on the wrong side of the law found themselves collared and unable to shift because there was no other way to control them as safely as other shifters. A full-sized dragon was nearly impossible to contain, but a collared “human” was another thing entirely.
Grizz’s collar seemed heavier every day but soon the weight would be lifted. He stole a glance at his inside contact up ahead. Roger—the grey-haired, squat man in his sixties wearing a hairnet and apron while he doled out ladles full of “eggs”—was his one and only line of contact to the outside world. He was a reliable guy who had been in the system most of his life, and he didn’t deal with short-timers and new fish who were liable to cause him more headaches than they were worth.
Fortunately, Grizz was from a different cut. He knew the ropes as well as the most experienced inmates and knew how to carry himself to avoid trouble. He kept his expression hollow and his eyes downcast. Shuffling and a slouchy posture gave the impression he’d accepted his fate. Guards would think he was depressed, just waiting to be processed so he could get out of purgatory like most prisoners, but he kept his frame strong so other inmates would think twice before trying to overpower him.
So far so good.
Finally, the line moved him into place directly in front of Roger, and a thick glob of gelatinous yellow stuff splatted onto his plate. Grizz’s gaze drifted up to Roger’s. To anyone watching, it was just a glance. But Grizz caught the subtle shake of Roger’s head before the man turned his attention away and served the next inmate in line without a word.
Grizz’s stomach clenched. He stood in line longer than he should have, long enough that Roger shot him a hard glare and gestured for him to keep moving. That told Grizz everything he needed to know…but it was no less confusing, and a great deal more distressing than he’d expected.
A guard glanced in Grizz’s direction. That finally got his ass in gear and he looked for an open seat. The sea of bodies dressed in orange jumpsuits blurred into a giant blob as his heart raced and his mind tried to make sense of what just happened.
That was not how the breakfast line was supposed to go.
He should have heard from his boss by now. Harlow had promised to send word through Roger before Grizz’s sentencing, but every day Roger gave him the same almost imperceptible head-shake. That was bad news made even worse because his sentencing hearing was just hours away. It seemed unthinkable that Harlow would simply kick an asset like Grizz to the curb after everything he’d done, which led him down a dark path as he settled into a seat between a hulking bear shifter said to have killed his own brother in a jealous rage and a panther shifter in for burglary.
Had Harlow set him up?
That was hard to believe, but he was flying blind now. All he knew was that his draconic instincts were giving him a bad feeling in his gut.
* * *
Later that afternoon, when the guard removed Grizz’s shackles in the courtroom, he flexed his hands and smiled his gratitude at the man, hiding the fact that his heart felt like it might explode right out of his chest. His little dose of freedom came with a much bigger dose of anxiety, making him feel more caged than ever.
The courtroom was a din of shuffling papers, men and women in sharp suits bustling around, and a conspicuous lack of Harlow anywhere in sight. Grizz gulped a deep breath, trying to remain calm—or at least appear that way. Harlow would show. He had to. If he didn’t…
The back of Grizz’s neck itched as everyone in the gallery watched him take his seat next to his court-appointed attorney. The man barely acknowledged his presence. He didn’t matter anyway—only Harlow mattered—so Grizz kept his gaze fixed on the door he knew the judge would walk through any moment. Surely Harlow was with the judge at that very moment, telling him the way things were and that the next defendant should be released immediately.
That had to be it. After he was released, Grizz would make Harlow buy him a stiff drink at their favorite neighborhood watering hole and they’d laugh over how worried he’d been.
When the judge swept into the courtroom, Grizz tried to read the woman’s expression, but it was inscrutable. Either she’d been “educated” by Harlow and was pissed off about the state of affairs, or she had a terminal case of resting bitch face. One last glance back at the gallery confirmed Harlow was nowhere to be seen. Grizz swallowed hard, hoping against hope his boss had made good on his promise.
“Mr. Magna, please rise,” the judge instructed as she scanned a folder in front of her. “Based upon the evidence presented during your trial and the nature and circumstances of the events described in those proceedings, I conclude that a just punishment for your actions is as follows. On the first count—murder in the first degree—you are
hereby sentenced to serve the rest of your natural life in Los Angeles Maximum Security Prison without the possibility of parole. On the second count…”
The judge’s voice droned on as the color drained from Grizz’s face. The stir of the crowd behind him seemed pleased.
Life.
In prison.
Human prison. Shifters sentenced to human prisons wore their restraint collars twenty-four-seven, and with a life sentence ahead of him…
Grizz would never be able to shift again, as long as he lived.
“No,” he murmured, looking to his attorney. “This isn’t right.”
His attorney looked at him blandly as the gavel crashed down. “That’s what they all say, man. Sorry.”
Had Grizz ever bothered to remember the man’s name, he might have called him out as a shitty excuse for a lawyer instead of watching him saunter out of the courtroom—toward freedom! A hand on his shoulder made him jump. The guard loomed over him as Grizz scanned the room again, desperate for a glimpse of his boss, or anyone who might have been sent by him. Only a handful of people met his gaze, and they certainly didn’t look like friendlies.
Before he even realized what was happening, two guards were leading him out the back of the courtroom. They would take him back to the transport and he’d be sent to a human prison forever. This couldn’t be happening! But it was, and no one would save him. No one but himself. Time for Plan B.
A lifetime of experience calmed the raging waters inside of him as he formulated a quick-and-dirty plan. The three men walked in a single file line—Grizz in the middle—down a dingy hallway that led to the loading area where the prison transport van waited. As they approached the back door of the courthouse, Grizz heard the guard behind him pulling the shackles from his belt.
“Sorry, sport,” the guy said as the guard in the lead pulled out his keys to unlock the door. “You’re a good guy, but rules are rules.”
Grizz had played the compliant prisoner from the moment he’d entered the system. He knew how to play the game, and now he was entering the end zone. If ever there was a time for a Hail Mary, it was now.
He smiled at the guard with the shackles, letting him know there were no hard feelings. The guard was just doing his job, but Grizz listened hard for the moment that would either spell his freedom or his demise. “I get it, boss. Thanks for letting me have a few final minutes.”
“Well, it’s not like you can do much damage with that thing on your neck, but like I said, rules are rules.”
He gestured with the shackles for Grizz to turn around and put his arms behind his back.
Hurry the fuck up, Grizz thought, turning as slowly as he could get away with.
Just as the first guard came back into view, the sweetest sound he’d ever heard echoed in the lonely hallway. The tumblers inside the door lock clanked and the guard pulled his key free. Without pausing, without even taking the time to think, Grizz reached his right hand back and gripped the back of the second guard’s head before the man could process what he was doing. Then he pulled him forward with every ounce of strength he possessed—which was pathetic compared to his unhindered dragon strength. But it was enough to smash the second guard’s face hard into the face of the first guard with a sickening crunch.
Grizz didn’t wait around to watch the bloodbath that was surely happening with two busted noses. Without a glance behind him, he bolted out of the courthouse’s back door and into the sweet, sweet sunlight.
* * *
A dusky shape darted among the vegetation, diving deep within the forest of lush green trees and overgrown bushes with their curling ivy fingers and thorny talons pulling at the hair and skin of any creature who might pass.
Every now and then her incredible agility was displayed in flashes and bursts, sending furry little animals at the lower end of the food chain scrambling and skittering away from the predator’s path. They dove under bushes with a squeal or a territorial chirp, barely dodging the heavy-hitting thump of the woman’s footsteps.
She was barefoot, the bottoms of her feet appropriately calloused by years of dashing across fields of spurs and thorns. They kept her protected from the rough terrain as she raced faster and faster, her muscular arms clenched and pumping at her sides. Her breaths came quick and ragged, totally measured even as she pushed herself beyond the usual limitations of the human body.
But she was no mere human.
Elektra Mico was a dragon, and as she sprinted through the forest, the beast barely restrained within her fought for dominance. It clawed and roared under the surface, demanding to be set free. Yet, Elektra managed to keep it clamped down for a little longer as she barreled through the undergrowth. Birds took flight in panicked formations, screeching up into the grey early morning sky to escape the fury of her training. But she was blind and deaf to the other creatures in the woods. None of them mattered, as long as she kept her eyes focused forward and her momentum building up ever higher.
A low-hanging branch loomed ahead of her and when she reached it, she leaped up for a quick series of pull-ups before flinging herself as far from it as she could manage. A fallen trunk lay in her path, but she simply leap-frogged over the massive girth with an intense grunt, effortlessly clearing that hurtle as she bolted ever onward. Every now and again, she would duck and roll across the crunchy dead leaves on the forest floor, her whole body twisting and tensing with perfect precision. Yet, at the same time, a sort of wild, untethered energy stretched beyond the confines of her human ability.
Elektra was in her element, pushing herself hard, but no harder than usual. This was her routine. She unleashed herself in the woods and worked out at a breakneck speed, only pausing occasionally to try a different, equally strenuous exercise. She jumped, she ducked, she spun, she heaved every large chunk of wood that she happened upon as far as she could throw it. She was an unstoppable force, only collecting more frenzied energy the longer she ran.
Although her face was stony and unreadable, if one could have slowed her down long enough to peer into her black, hypnotic eyes, they would have seen a bright flickering fire burning there.
Such intense workouts weren’t something she loved, but she needed them. An emptiness ached inside of her, and this extreme physical exertion was the best way to soothe that ache. She simply had to make her body hurt worse than her heart. But of course, as she grew stronger and stronger over time, it became more difficult to break her body. It could withstand a solid beating, but Elektra wasn’t finished.
There was still the grand finale.
Breathing so hard that her chest heaved, she raced into an open clearing. All around her, the sun-bleached weeds and grass swayed, growing to mid-thigh and scratching at her legs as she ran. She barely noticed. The field was awash with golden sunlight, making Elektra’s dusky skin almost glow from the inside out. As she reached the center of the clearing, she took a running leap and shifted from human to massive, majestic dragon halfway into the air. Her fragile workout clothes shredded at the sudden change in her body, leaving strips of thin fabric tattered on the earth below her clenching talons. That’s why she bought them in bulk at a heavy discount.
Using her innate dragon magic, Elektra hid herself from human eyes as she took to the sky with precisely as much adeptness as she ruled the earth. Her broad, brown wings beat rhythmically as they carried her higher and higher into the tufted clouds. The cool mistiness of them chilled her leathery flesh delightfully. A terrifying smile peeled her lips away from her pointed teeth as she spun a tight corkscrew, spirals of smoke from her nostrils trailing behind her.
The wind rushed loudly through her ears and inflated her lungs like two hot air balloons, making her gasp and sigh with exhilaration. She lived for these moments, when she was pushed to the brink of what her athletic form could withstand. Only when teetering on the edge of a sharpened knife did Elektra felt truly strong. She required constant testing, constant training. Pushing the envelope, proving to herself again and again that she
was worthy, kept her sane.
As long as she maintained her cloak, humans couldn’t see her, but even shifters, arcane and vampires wouldn’t have been able to catch a glimpse of her at the altitude she flew. The solitude felt right and natural, but she could never maintain it for long. Not with her job.
Diving almost straight down, Elektra pulled back on her death spiral at exactly the right moment to land deftly on the helicopter pad situated on the roof of the building that housed her employer, Wildridge Security. The prestigious firm was entrusted with the safety of the shifter population in Los Angeles. The second her talons touched the surface, she immediately shifted back to her two-legged shape.
Without even pausing to catch her breath, her stout, muscular frame carried her down through the roof access door and into a long hallway that led to a private stairwell. Elektra slipped inside, totally unabashed about the fact someone could stumble across her in her full naked glory at any moment. Whistling under her breath, she headed straight to the locker room for a quick shower and a change of clothes. By the time she reemerged, she was fully dressed, her dark hair pulled back into a tight, no-nonsense braid.
Elektra felt completely refreshed when she strutted into the conference room downstairs for the morning meeting. All eyes turned toward her. They must have been waiting on her. Unfazed, she leaned against the wall coolly and crossed her arms over her chest.
“Sorry I’m late,” she lied. “I’m here now.”
“And the penalty doughnuts are where?” Thrett Lacerta asked, a teasing twinkle in his hazel eyes.
Elektra narrowed hers. “You want doughnuts? Fine, I’ll go get some and when I get back, I’ll shove them right up your—”
