His Dragon Warrior

by Jill Haven

  I grinned and looked up at the sky through the treetops. A patch of blue broke through the clouds. A good omen.

  “When do you wish to leave?” His voice was quiet, and kind.

  “In the morrow…”

  With a sigh, he lowered his head in defeat. And then he pulled me closer.

  On the morning of my quest, as I was calling it, I woke early and wrapped tightly in Bishop’s arms. My nose squished against his chest and his scent filled my lungs. Bleary-eyed from sleep, I felt heady and woozy, but my body tingled awake as I breathed him in deeper. My toes tickled and I sought out his feet with my own where our ankles touched. He moaned softly and kissed the top of my head. Sparks shot down my front and heat glowed at the base of my pelvis, where my morning erection started to harden. Soon enough, we were embraced tightly, and our hard rods jabbed against our thighs and bellies.

  We moved slowly and wordlessly to untangle ourselves from our bedclothes and came back together again, naked and enclosed by the warmth of the blankets. Bishop urged my chin up and admired my face, as though it were the last time he was ever going to see me. I leaned into the way his thumb dragged along my jaw and cheekbones, but I wasn’t buying into his self-pity—I had a plan, and I was certain that it was going to work. This wasn’t going to be the last time we’d bed each other. Not even close.

  Languidly, we moved back and forth, creating friction for each other. My erection found his, and we moaned with our eyes locked as we rutted. I clung to his shoulders and fell into his gaze. I felt so safe there in his arms, and able to let my desire dance through my body with no hurry.

  But Bishop kept his touch painfully gentle, his fingertips barely tickled my sides, and my desire for him rolled over into urgency. He was treating me like I was fragile, and I wanted him to acknowledge how strong I was. I pushed him back and climbed on top of him, found his cock beneath mine again, and met his mouth with a demanding kiss. He caught my passion and fed me his tongue. With moans and growls, our mouths smashed together in an intimate dance until Bishop’s lust was fully lit and he couldn’t hold back anymore. To my relief, he clenched my hips and angled me back and forth over his hardness. Our skin caught against each other until I sat up on his lap and reached for the bottle of sticky stuff. His mouth was still red and wet from our kiss, and I caught a glimpse of fang tips between his lips.

  Slicked and shining with the lubricant, our cocks looked gorgeous pressed together in my hands. I strained to reach my fingers around both of them, but Bishop’s grip was able to take us in hand and I willingly gave him control. With ragged breaths, he jerked us off at a steady and firm pace, while I tickled our tips and slits. I loved how they dribbled clear fluid and swelled at the same time, and how the pink flesh turned red as our pleasure increased.

  Bishop’s gaze was set on my face, and as soon as our eyes met, a thrill shocked through me. I gasped and bucked my hips toward his fist, which in turn made him twitch. I laughed and he grinned, and soon we were close to the edge. After our two weeks of living together, we’d become adept at cuing our orgasms to crest at the same time. He tightened his grip on our flesh, and the pressure made us grunt with excitement. My toes curled and I thrust into his hand desperately, so that the underside of my rod caught the rim of his erection’s head. He growled and beat at our flesh faster, his eyes still locked onto mine, until a sudden flush of orgasm burst through my body. I arched back and fluttered my eyes shut to fall into a now-familiar euphoria, while Bishop roared and brought us all the way over the edge.

  Shots of hot wetness slapped against my belly and when I dragged my eyes open and gasped for breath, I found that I was covered in our cum. My lover smeared his cum all over my naked torso until I glimmered with the same shine as our cocks. I laughed and cocked my head at him.

  “Mine.”

  His simple explanation thrilled me.

  Bishop was wiping himself down with a towel when I got out of the shower, and he pulled out his bag like he was going to pack for a journey. “What time should we leave? I’ll drive you and go in and try to talk to Vince first.”

  I squeezed water out of my hair with a musky-smelling towel and shook my head. “I am going alone.”

  He stopped with his bag half-unfastened and glanced at me. “But I can talk to your uncle—”

  “I need to do this alone.”

  The hurt on his face was visible, as if I’d managed to land a right hook. “You don’t want me to even try? You don’t want me to be your… mate?”

  I sighed and pressed a hand against his chest. “Of course I do. I want that, but it’s not going to happen right now, I don’t think. One thing at a time. I need to bargain for my freedom. We can talk to him about mating another time.”

  He kissed me with sudden passion, and I clung to him weakly as my knees trembled and almost went out under me. I moaned into his mouth and thought about a way I could bring him with me, sneak him in my pocket, if only he weren’t such a big lug of a man.

  The walk to the stronghold was surely easy enough, but Bishop insisted on taking me to the trailhead.

  “Please don’t worry. This won’t be the last time I see you.” I cupped his cheek and kissed his brow to urge the furrows there to soften.

  “If you say so.”

  I said so. It was clear to me that this was a simple errand. I would visit the stronghold, get approval from my uncle, share a meal with my aunts and be on my way back to Bishop’s before a full day had passed.

  Ah, what a naive imbecile.

  Each step away from Bishop felt unnatural, and it took great strength to move deeper into the forest while the ribbon around my heart grew taut and strained. But strength was something that I suddenly had in abundance. My legs carried me lightly through the woods, and my arms felt ready to fight. My biceps even bulged a little as I swung around tree trunks, broke off branches, and bashed my way through overgrown thickets.

  By midday, I caught sight of the front gates of the keep that used to feel like home. Now it seemed like a copy of the place it used to be, identical in every way but devoid of the emotion that it used to evoke. It seemed empty somehow; gray and hollow. Grief washed through me and I felt that I had lost something magical.

  Never mind. Maturity was not synonymous with sentimentality. I lifted my chin, clenched my fists, and marched straight through the gate, directly to find Vince.

  A sea of gasps roared around me, followed by the clatter of maids rushing to report the gossip of my return. Information spread fast in a place like that, and my aunts were in the main doorway of the main hall before I had even crossed half of the forecourt.

  “Evan!” Aunt Avens squealed from the front doors and came bounding down the steps toward me. Aunt Eve was right behind her, and they stopped me in a desperate embrace.

  “We were so worried! Thank the heavens that you’re alive.”

  “And are you well?” Aunt Eve looked me over with concern.

  “Let’s get you into a warm bath, and I’ll have the kitchen prepare you a hearty meal. Your room is just the way you left it—”

  “No! Leave me be, I need to speak to my uncle.”

  As much as my trained and tired muscles ached for a warm bath, I shook them off and stalked toward the door. They fell back, clutching their chests in shock. I wasn’t the little omega who needed coddling anymore. I was a grown man.

  But Uncle Vince did not see me precisely the same way. My new-found confidence was quickly shot when he met me in his office with a disdainful scowl and demanded where I’d been. No warm welcome; no relief that I was safe and well.

  “I’ve been with my mate.” I lifted my chin and looked at him down my nose.

  He snarled and slammed a palm against his desk. I almost jumped with fear but held myself steady.

  “Go to your room, Evan. You’ll stay there until I decide what to do with you.”

  Through gritted teeth, I found the courage to stand my ground. “No. I came here simply to tell you that Bishop is my mate
, that I don’t care what you think, and to leave us alone. It’s time to let me grow up and leave the stronghold. I have a life of my own and I want to live it.”

  “Bishop? Bishop Cane? That oversized oaf?” Uncle’s voice broke as a chortle erupted from deep in his belly. He threw his head back and howled laughter at the ceiling. His dragon’s snarl came through at the end, and my knees betrayed me with a tremor. I wondered how much longer I could stand before I would have to turn and flee.

  “Bishop is not your mate,” he practically spat.

  “He is who I want to be with. That ought to be enough for your blessing.”

  “Evan. My nephew… Do you not understand who you are? Please, consider your position in this world wisely. You should be with someone akin to Carlisle, or one of the other local clan leaders. You are destined for greatness and royal honor, not to be on the bulbous arm of an oversized boor.”

  Stunned, I stumbled backward toward the door. Bishop was right, again—my uncle seemed like he wouldn’t see reason on this matter. He wouldn’t even listen to me. I’d been a fool for thinking that I had what it would take to get through to a man like him.

  “My destiny is to be with the man whom I want to court me, and that man is Bishop. He has strong dragon blood, connections to many clans, isn’t that good enough for you?”

  My uncle grinned at me and shook his head, as though I were a little child asking for a sweet that I was not allowed to have. “Come now, Ev. Don’t be ridiculous. It’s out of the question. Now, you’re to stay here in the stronghold and I will use force if it’s what it takes—”

  “I won’t. I absolutely won’t. Curse you! Curse this entire stronghold.” I made to escape through the door but was blocked by two guards who, when put together, were almost larger than Bishop.

  Vince clucked his tongue and sighed. “Oh, Evan. I’m very disappointed in you. I didn’t raise you to act this way. Guards, take my nephew to his room and ensure he stays within these walls until I find a suitable mate to soothe his out of control hormones.”

  “No! You can’t. You wouldn’t!” I screamed a bloody fury as I was dragged down the hall. But of course, he could. And of course, he did.

  My room was, as my aunts had said, just as I’d left it. I was surprised that I found some comfort in being there, despite my captivity. Unlike the rest of the stronghold, my room elicited familiar emotions in me. The trickle of dappled sunlight that burst through the colored stained-glass windows soothed my aching heart; the comfort of my bed held my tense muscles like a familiar friend. My chest burned with desire to get out, but soon the flame of anger, passion and determination was snuffed as the hours passed and the sun set.

  I collapsed into the small comfort of my bed and let the sadness swallow me whole. With a pillow clutched to my chest, I burst into tears and cried out the last of my passion. What had I been thinking? Bishop had been right. Bishop was always right. And that meant that he was right in his fear that he’d never see me again. It was possible. It was likely. We might never be together again, all because I tried to flex my barely developed maturity. When my eyes were dry and my sobs mellowed into strained cries, I slipped into a deep sleep.

  My aunts tried to comfort me the next day, but all of my energy had been spent and I could do nothing but stare at the stone walls in front of me while they stroked my back and talked nonsense about how everything would work out. My uncle arrived soon after, prattling on in an upbeat tone about an eligible alpha he was considering approaching about becoming my mate. I stared through him until I could no longer tolerate his relentless booming optimism, and rolled to my other side. He talked on and on; and in my fatigued and rotten brain, I planned my escape.

  13

  Bishop

  A twig snapped under my foot as I crouched behind a blackberry bramble and I held my breath, strained my ears, and listened for any reaction from the Redcaps who were undoubtedly guarding the forest around the stronghold. My nightmare had come true. A week had gone by with no word from Evan, and my attempts to get an answer out of Vince had first been met with laughter and then silence. He refused to see me and had sent his lowest ranking guardsmen to block my entry through the front gates; a deliberate slap to my ego. Vince had me cornered in a stalemate. Violence could break Evan out of the stronghold, particularly if all Vince was going to use to block my path were his scrawniest near-hatchlings. But it would only worsen our predicament. If I injured any of his men, even in the name of love, then it would be seen as a declaration of war and there wasn’t a clan leader around who would back me up in my appeal for the hand of Vince’s nephew. And so, even his weakest men were enough to stop me at the gates and send me back the way I came.

  I had to resort to stealthier tactics to break Evan out of his prison. Not my strongest suit, as evidenced by the echoing snapping of twigs as I shifted my balance behind the brambles. The setting sun cast a low glow over the land and the cool wind whipped southward toward the stronghold. A flame glowed in a window in the northeast corner and a silhouetted shadow passed by the light with long hair trailing behind a lithe frame. Evan…?

  Suddenly, the wind shifted, and the pungent smell of ash hit me. Someone was close. Sword unsheathed, I shot up out of the brambles. The cold metal tip shimmied across the buttons at the belly of a Redcap, who stood amid a group of ten or so men. None of them looked all too afraid of me and the young man whose innards I was inches away from flaying simply tilted his head at me in mock concern. They’d clearly been informed that I was impotent and unable to attack.

  One even dared to warble a threat. “Get out of here before we chase you away, lout.”

  A spray of sparks escaped from my nose as I lowered my weapon and glared in frustration. My dragon itched for a fight and scales prickled at my neck. It would be oh so satisfying to gut these near-dozen weaklings and smash my way through the stronghold, ride a river of blood to the Divine Omega’s room, and rescue him. And then what? Live in exile? It was growing more appealing by the day, but Evan’s relationship with his homeland and his family was important to him; if I severed the heads of these men, then I’d be severing that connection too.

  Jaw clenched and sword back at my side, I turned on my heel and stalked out of woods, back toward the barracks. This wasn’t a battle of physical strength; it was entirely political, and I was out of my depth. I needed strategic back up. I needed the Princeps Draco.

  Carlisle paled when he answered the door. “Bishop, you look half-dead. Are you alright?”

  “Vince has Evan.” I pushed past him and collapsed into the largest armchair in his living room. He perched nearby on the edge of a sofa with that damn patronizing concerned look on his face.

  “Yes, I heard…”

  “He’s bragging about it now? I ought to slay him—”

  “No, I mean to say… I assumed Evan had been returned to the stronghold, as Vince has stopped his incessant interrogation of every clan leader in the Northeast. I was going to reach out to you soon to thank you—”

  “Returned?” I chuckled cruelly. “He returned himself to negotiate with Vince, to tell him that our relationship was not up for negotiation. To tell his uncle to back off. And now he’s being held against his will. Again.”

  Carlisle winced at the naivety of Evan’s strategy and I gave him a knowing nod.

  “He’s a prisoner. I’ve attempted to speak with Vince myself, without force, multiple times. He won’t let me in the gates.”

  Haiden appeared in the doorway looking as tired as I felt and leaned into the molding like it was supporting his entire life force. “You must be feeling awful with your true mate locked up like that. It sounds like you need some help.”

  Carlisle whipped around and pursed his lips at his omega. “Our allyship with the Redcaps is on tenterhooks as it is…”

  Haiden crossed his arms over his chest. He met my eye and I gave him an appreciative nod. It was a longshot to seek Carlisle’s support, but it had truly been my last resort. He rambled
about the political landscape while Haiden’s eyes narrowed into a glare. I sighed in defeat and pressed my hands against my thighs as I searched for the energy to stand up.

  Suddenly, Carlisle paused and huffed. “Oh, fine. We’ll go and speak to Vince right now. Come along.”

  “What?” I looked from Haiden to Carlisle and back again.

  The Divine Omega beamed at me and gave me a playful wink. “I’ll make you some sandwiches.”

  A dangerous flicker of hope burned in my chest as we approached the stronghold. The gates opened for Carlisle without hesitation. The same group of ragtag guards blocked our way into the building, but they shuffled awkwardly as they realized they were under the glare of the Princeps Draco.

  “I’ll speak to your leader, thank you. Fetch him.”

  A few long-limbed guards scurried off to fetch him, and soon my curly-haired enemy was standing on the steps above us. He kept his men between us, and I wondered if Carlisle took it as an insult. I certainly would have.

  “Ah, Carlisle. Always good to see you, Princeps Draco. And you’re here with the beast.”

  I bit back a growl and Carlisle placed a hand on my shoulder to both support me and to keep me quiet. I was getting very good at holding back the vitriol that boiled under my tongue.

  “And you know why I’m here, Vince.”

  “Are you really backing this pairing? A prince and a pauper? Beauty and the beast?”

  My fists clenched and I simultaneously cursed and thanked Carlisle for making me leave my weapons at his house. It would cause chaos, but I’d have given my life to slit Vince from groin to throat at that moment. Carlisle tightened his grip and cleared his throat as he stepped forward, positioning himself ahead of me.