Blood of Stars and Gods

by Melissa Petreshock

  This time, I cross the room in two swift steps and capture her in my arms, studying every inch of her beautiful face before meeting her eyes. “My perfect ending has always been with you, Cait, whatever it took to get there.”

  “I’m afraid it may take us going to Hell and back before this is over.”

  Despite her strength, I see the worry in her eyes and hold her tighter. “Then that is what it will take, and that is what we will do.”

  And when I press my lips to hers, the hesitation has disappeared, a heart embracing mine with an even greater strength than my arms can hold my Cait.

  *Cait*

  The door barely clicks shut behind us when he’s at my back, heat from his body radiating with such intensity that I swear he could cause any woman to spontaneously combust simply by being near. He pulls his shirt from my arms, tossing it onto the dresser, and slides his hands beneath my sweater.

  “I believe it’s warm enough in here without this.” Theo’s voice is low and husky as he slips the heavy wool knit over my head.

  “I don’t think the ambient temperature has anything to do with the heat in your room.” But I don’t argue how much I have no intention of needing my sweater either, not minding at all when it joins his discarded shirt.

  Turning to face him, Theo’s bold green eyes meet me with something far deeper than desire. “This is your decision, Cait. No more ifs or whens in this choice. I know who I am to you and deserve the respect of your faithfulness in the same manner in which I give mine. This must be the end of questioning and uncertainty. Swear to me that you are mine, wholly and devoutly, for all eternity.”

  Dominant. Possessive. Dragon. Theo.

  I kiss his chest, grazing my teeth over his nipple, biting it teasingly and a bit rough, earning a guttural growl. It’s deep and warningly low.

  “Yes. I am yours, Theo. Growl if you want, but you are mine, too, and I’ll bite you if I like. You certainly bit me.” I flip my hair off my neck, revealing the darkened silver mark. “And unlike Dante, your teeth never scare me.”

  In a heartbeat, those very teeth are at my chest, seeing to the destruction of my favorite lace bra as his hands work my pants down my legs, and I kick my shoes off. Satisfied I’m sufficiently naked, Theo stands and grazes his eyes over me from head to toe. “Now I can see every place I wish to have my teeth on your body, Cait.”

  The smirk on his lips as he runs his tongue over them sends a shiver through me. “Where would that be?”

  “Everywhere, Cait.”

  Sweeping me off my feet, he curls me against his bare chest, and I wrap my arms around his neck, winding my fingers into the soft waves of raven hair framing his face. “Well, you have an eternity to reach each and every spot,” I reply with an air of seriousness.

  My back hits the mattress, Theo caging me within his powerful arms, carnal desire glittering in his emerald eyes. “Then I will take my time.” He runs his tongue along my lips so lightly it’s nearly painful in my need to feel more of him. “And I believe I will begin right here.” The words are barely a breath before his teeth capture my bottom lip, blissful perfection in the blur between bite and kiss.

  Languid kisses and lingering, tantalizing nips are the trail he leaves from chin to shoulder, his heated breath spreading across my skin, matching the way fire consumes me as his body covers mine, and his rough jeans rub against my thigh. But too quickly, he stands, one knee on the edge of the bed as he looks down at me, watching how flushed and in want of him I am.

  “This is an end and a beginning. Past lovers matter none. I will not look behind me when what is ahead is all that means anything to me. Never have I wanted something in my existence the way I want everything with you. You shall remain at my side until this world returns to dust, my friend, my lover, my wife, my equal. … But I need you to want the same of me, Cait.”

  I sit up and run my hand over the mark on his chest. “You see how dark that is? Our connection is stronger than ever before. I do want the same. I can feel in my heart how this time is different. I’m different. Nothing can change what I feel for you. No one can steal it away from us again.”

  Grabbing the waist of his jeans, I want to tug him toward me, but he doesn’t allow it. Instead, he stands, stepping back from the bed, slowly unbuttoning and unzipping the dark-wash jeans he wears, dropping them to the floor.

  Bared, Theo is a work of art—sculpted lines, ridges, planes, and taut skin of a mythical Greek god. Adonis. Yet better.

  Dragons are real.

  He moves with the smooth skill of a predator, tangling his fingers in my hair as he leans me back, my body gloriously aware of every point our skin contacts, and I clutch him to me, hands gliding up the length of his back, nails dragging along flexing muscles. His low growls and heavy hot breaths describe desires and needs we share—tongue, teeth, and lips fueling it within me as he pleasures and teases my breasts, roaming my body with those large hands, elegant yet masculine and rough.

  Every touch burns, an ache, a craving, a hunger, a desperation for more igniting, and I want Theo’s fire to consume me.

  My dragon makes a painstaking path of searing kisses down my stomach, licks my navel in torturous swirls, and continues down. What plea I cry out, begging him not to stop, leaves my mouth incoherently as he kneels on the floor, pulling me to the edge of the bed, resting my legs over his shoulders, and plunges his tongue deep and hard, desperate in his own hunger for this, for me, for us.

  And the flames cede to the rising swell, the crashing wave, the unrelenting storm threatening to sweep me away, lost in the uncharted sea of Theo Pendragon.

  Two fingers slip inside me, tongue flicking at my clit, and the wave is looming, my body trembling in expectation. “Come for me, Cait.” And with one long, languid stroke of his heated tongue and a quick flick on the swollen bud of need and nerves, I’m swept out to that wonderful sea. But he doesn’t stop. He isn’t satisfied I’m there. He builds the storm into a Nor’easter, long and slow, short and quick, then again. And again. And again.

  A puddle of quivering sensation is what Theo’s left of me when he finally wraps his arms around me and pulls me into the center of the bed. “You are mine, Cait.” He reminds me.

  I want to tell him how unfair it is that he has an uncountable number of years more experience than I do at this. “Mmhmm,” I reply. I think. I love-hate him right now.

  Then he slips an arm behind me, settling between my legs, and buries himself into me with ease, like he always belonged this way—we always belonged together, this perfect fullness he creates, his hard body covering me and soft hair brushing against my face.

  I forgive him and wind his hair around my fingers, holding him closer, thriving on every too-warm breath he exhales on my neck, proof he’s mine. Always. Forever. Eternally.

  Roaming one hand down my body, he grasps my hip, effortless in each leisurely thrust. “Harder.” I barely manage the plea in a whisper, but I need him.

  “No,” He growls, not a dangerous growl but as if he finds some primal humor in this. “I pleasured you to the utmost satisfaction, and now I wish to relish in the delights of your body. Tonight, the vicious beast of fear and doubt does not crouch in wait, warning me how you will lie in my bed tonight and wake to the horror of your mistake.”

  Theo’s lips meet mine, gentle yet passionate, the deepest love and most intimate desire caressing my soul in the tangle of our arms and legs and connection of our bodies, each thrust of his body into mine forging two hearts into one.

  And he does relish every moment—gentle caresses, tender kisses, and reverent words spoken in hushed tones and languages I don’t understand as he brings me up and over the edge twice again before the strain of need veils the intensity of his gaze.

  “Cait.” Husky and low, a growl of a word, it’s a warning. Without another word, he flips us over, his hands on my hips as he encourages me to ride atop him, thrusting harder beneath me, grinning as he watches my breasts bounce, growl deepening, grip
tightening in the thrall of his nearing climax. “Dear Goddess, you are beautiful.”

  A twist and turn, arms wrapped around me, body never leaving mine, my back is against the massive headboard, and I reach behind me, grabbing on tightly. He grasps me with one arm and steadies himself with his free hand, my legs around his waist as Theo buries himself deeper and harder with every breath. His mouth meets mine before blazing down my neck and chest, laving attention on each breast until I can’t hold back, shuddering in his arms, body clenching around his—a cataclysmic freefall met by a thunderous roar haunted by such depths of emotion, and I meet his eyes, breathless, when silence falls between us once again.

  “You’ve been holding back.” I don’t mean to accuse him, but I suppose I do exactly that.

  His gaze doesn’t waver from mine. “I have been willing to love far more than I have been willing to trust I deserve to keep it.”

  Chapter 23

  *Cait*

  Stuffing the last of my clothes into my suitcase, I should feel relieved to know we’re heading back home today, things finally feeling as if they might fall back in order after Theo and I talked last night. But despite the reason for our intrusion, Evan and Runa have made this just as much my home as theirs. I’ve never lived outside the city, had a backyard to wander, or spent evenings in a swing under a tree. Not before staying here.

  I’m going to miss it here, and I don’t know if I should. Maybe I’ll still see them. Maybe there’s nothing to miss. With Corrin’s successor yet unnamed, that’s one of the many unknowns on my growing list right now.

  Every time I turn around, it seems like I learn a little more about how much I don’t know that I don’t yet know. And in the world of eternals, ignorance is not bliss. It’s dangerous.

  A sharp knock at the door makes me jump, and I force the suitcase shut, pulling the zipper closed with a huff. I’ve had enough startling surprises for a lifetime already, and I’ve only got another … oh, maybe a million years to go.

  Oh. My. Goddess. How long is an eternity anyway?

  “Come in.” I don’t even need to ask who it is or turn around to greet him. That was a distinct, sharp, right-down-to-business Falcon knock.

  “Do you need any assistance?” His tone remains flat, per usual.

  I roll my eyes, back still to him. “I’m packing, Falcon, not warding off enemies. I think I’ve got it.”

  “I am well aware of what you are doing, and my offer of assistance stands.”

  Folding the scarf Runa knit for me, I add it to another bag. “Really? Is this a House of Kielgard method of earning favor?” I wince at that word and push back thoughts of Hades, grabbing for the handle of the suitcase instead, but Falcon’s hand is already there. “Fine.”

  He easily lifts it but doesn’t step away. “You haven’t answered my request. Time runs short.” Falcon sets the luggage on the floor as I turn to face him, crossing his arms over his chest. A button down and trousers are a change from his typical fitted jeans and worn-like-a-second-skin t-shirts, but the black and crimson color scheme is the same. “Have I not fought for you honorably?”

  “You have, but you do know the war is over, don’t you? Staying with me won’t be this exciting all the time. At least, I hope not.”

  That furrowed brow is an expression I’ve never seen on Falcon’s face before, and it doesn’t suit him at all. “It is not excitement I seek, Cait, but owing favors to Hades could lead to anything, and you must be prepared.” The intensity of his garnet eyes grows brighter, their color flaring. “We must be prepared.”

  “What? So, everyone knows now? I swear. Gossip spreads faster among dragons than schoolgirls.” I fall back to snark in anger, still angry with myself for making an emotional rather than rational decision—one with unknown consequences.

  “We do not idly gossip. The fate of the North Star affects all Dracopraesi. Still … Jai chose to share this information with me after the morning’s excitement subsided yesterday.”

  “Jai did?” My little Mage dragon may be odd in his ways, but he’s been quite clear in his dislike of Falcon before. Jai wouldn’t share anything with him unnecessarily. I vent a bit of my own frustration with a heavy sigh and reach for his arms, not surprised that he tenses at my touch. “If you stay with me, you’re going to learn to stop this,” I say as I pull his arms loose from their defensive, crossed-over-the-chest position. “Stop closing yourself off. My dragons, the ones who stay with me, aren’t just a contingent of guards. They’re my family. Can you be more than just a guard, Falcon?”

  “I don’t know.” He half steps closer, voice lowering to a whisper, so out of sync with everything of his hardened persona I’ve known. “Let me stay. Let me learn.” His gaze pleads a prideful need for secrecy, and I nod. Tone returning to its usual indifference, he adds, “I believe a representative of the Catalyst Houses should remain among the North Star’s contingent. As you have agreed that I fought for you honorably, I request to continue serving you on behalf of my House of Kielgard brothers and all dragons among the Catalyst Houses.”

  “Fine. For now, you can start serving by carrying all this stuff downstairs. I have something else to take care of. Remember, Falcon. I don’t think you’re nearly as scary as you think you are.”

  A smile plays at the corner of his mouth. “I think you’re quite scary. All the more reason to stay.”

  ***

  Despite the solemn expression still haunting him, Dante appears far better than he has in the past few days, but his eyes remain downcast as he enters the office, and I don’t doubt he’s having a harder time preparing to leave the clan estate than I am.

  “You wished to see me?”

  “I am sorry, my old friend. This is not the time I wish to do this, to burden your heart with such things in the last hours before we depart.” Theo speaks softly, stepping nearer as I hang back, the intricacies of their relationship far beyond my own grasp.

  Perhaps that’s for the best. Not every piece of Theo should belong to me. Regardless of what he says, he isn’t mine alone. Dante was something to him long before me.

  “Burden me with what, Theo? Will you tell me of a decision I already knew Caitriona would ultimately make? I stepped aside because I do not belong in your stead.” He speaks with the same strength and conviction as he did this morning, when he awoke and told me that he wasn’t running anymore. “I am meant to love yet remain nothing more than a most faithful friend. You hold steadfast to your honor, following through on your convictions, and stay true to the love you believe in. And Caitriona …” He turns to me with gentleness and depths of love in his eyes. “Your heart guides you and will not lead you astray. You must trust it.”

  “Well, don’t you just have it all figured out?” I remark, frustrated by how easily he seems to have all the answers, tired of everyone telling me what to do and how to do it. “We already discussed the issue of officially marrying. I want to do it as soon as Oliver returns, but Theo won’t budge on waiting until my transformation is fully complete, no matter how long that might take. He refuses to risk anything with dragon blood being too strong and, apparently, alpha blood being significantly stronger.”

  “Why I asked you here was to inquire if you have any insight into better protecting Cait in the meantime. If we are the Trifecta, surely we can do something together. Hades is a lurking threat we must face.” Theo cuts to the thick of it with little, if any, flourish.

  “Close the circle. May I?” he asks, stepping closer to Theo, reaching for the buttons on my dragon’s shirt, and I move to see what the demigod is doing, as his friend doesn’t hesitate to allow the intrusion. “We are each a point in this triquerta.” He begins explaining, revealing the mark on Theo’s chest. “In the High Realm, when three points of significance join, it creates a Trifecta of some sort or another and is marked by a closed triquerta, one with a circle running through each point. As it stands now, the points between Caitriona and I are closed, just as the points between the two of you ar
e closed as Theo took your blood in the rites to become Lord Regent. Correct?”

  We both nod, but I’m the first to speak. “Then the two of you need to close the circle.”

  “Yes.” Theo answers. “It seems so.”

  “Ero said we form a Trifecta and that our marks would tell the strength or weakness of our connection, but he didn’t say why.”

  “The answer is a lesser priority than closing the circle and ensuring the bond is strong enough to protect you as best we can, Cait. How do you prefer to go about this, Dante?”

  Dante pauses as if struck silent by the question and steps back. “We both know dragon blood is quite sacred due to its healing properties.”

  “And you are the son of the Goddess, so yours is of no less privilege or sanctity. Cait has chosen me as her husband, Dante, but you are my brother. I offer you the decision in how we seal that bond and do not begrudge your choice, whatever that may be.”

  Holding a hand out to Theo, he finds the action returned quickly, and the friends grasp one another’s hands tightly. “I chose my own family in blood, a family which will not see the end of time with me. Let my blood run in one I choose who will always remain.”

  Theo nods, and they let go of one another, my dragon turning to me as he pulls off his shirt and hands it to me. “Is this part of some rite? You have to strip your clothes off?”

  He grins, wide and showing gleaming teeth. “No. Oliver accuses me of not caring for any nice clothing I own. If I’ve learned anything, it is that blood does not wash out easily, especially from white fabrics.”

  When Theo stands facing Dante, the differences between them are entirely striking in ways I’d not cared to notice before, or at least not spent much time thinking about. My Theo towers a fair six inches above his friend. Rugged masculinity in his every feature from his long raven hair and stubbled angular jaw to the powerful flex of each sinewy muscle beneath his perfect skin (several shades darker than Dante’s fair complexion), speaking to the raw, unbridled spirit within him, the heart that meets mine with enthusiasm no matter how unexpected my actions may be.