by Lola Gabriel
He killed a man to control his own daughter’s life. What kind of father does that? And what kind of being am I to let him get away with it? Owen rose from his chair. He loved Kennedy, and the more he heard her voice, the more he could tell that Rocco had been lying to him, just as he had probably been lying to Kennedy.
“Please say something, Owen! I don’t know how things got so messed up between us, but I’m not going to give up on us if you say the word. My dad…” She sucked in air.
“What about your father?”
“He has basically given me two choices—banishment or prison.”
“I thought you saw that coming.”
“I did, but I wasn’t really prepared for it.” They were both silent, and Owen closed his eyes, again marveling at the unfairness of being given a mate whose love was prohibited.
“We will go to Athens,” he promised her quietly. “If that’s what you want.”
“I think that might be our only option,” she whispered, although Owen knew that was not what she wanted. What she wanted was to be free to love whom she chose without being cast aside.
“I’m on my way back to the Hollows now,” Owen told her. “Stay away from Rocco until I get there.”
“Trust me,” she grunted. “He is the last being I ever want to see again.”
17
Kennedy rushed to the window as Owen scaled the wrought iron fence without announcing himself through the intercom. When her eyes met his, all the ill-will, the worry, and the doubts faded into oblivion.
“Are you coming down to meet me?” he called from the driveway. Her father had not returned home from his day in the towns, and the staff had retired to their rooms for the night. Not that it mattered much to Kennedy. She was not going to sneak around, not anymore. Her father could not banish her so easily. She refused to accept that he would.
“You have wings,” she reminded him teasingly. “You come to me.”
With a rush of air, Owen sprung forward, reaching the window in one leap, his massive head transforming and then instantly falling back into his classically handsome form as he scaled the window and dropped down onto Kennedy’s room. “This is a nice—”
She jumped on him, knocking him backward, so they both tumbled onto the bed with her landing on top of him, her lips on his. She felt as if she had been holding onto the kiss for an eon, and she couldn’t bear any more small talk.
Owen seemed to feel the same, his arms reaching under the thin material of her shirt to pull it off entirely before yanking her skin to his. Again, their heartbeats synched, as they always did, their kisses growing hotter as they sank into the mattress. Kennedy sighed, pulling her face back to look at him.
“I’ve missed you so much,” she confessed, tears pooling in her clear green eyes. “You promised never to leave me.”
“I thought you left me,” he replied gruffly. “But I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere.” He flipped her around in a fluid motion, pinning her onto her back, and dropped his head into the swell of her bosom. With one hand holding her arms to the mattress, he moved lower to sample every inch of her creamy skin. Kennedy sighed softly, relishing the tender feel of his lips, the heat of his breath.
It would be worth the banishment to be in his arms every day. Kennedy forced the thought away and tangled her legs up on his shoulders. Owen released her arm, scooping her waist up in his large hands, and Kennedy cried out as he found her center.
Heat rushed through her, and in seconds, she was flying high above them, watching their mess of arms and legs from somewhere out of her body. Her long, manicured nails twined into his hair, and she drew him closer, her body responding to each of his movements. She tensed and flexed, finally bringing him up to meet her face again, their complexions equally flushed and pleasured.
“I need you,” she whispered. “I’ve always needed you.”
“You will always have me,” Owen promised, and Kennedy believed him. No one would ever come between them again. They had learned their lesson, lost time and faith, but they would never lose each other. Kennedy was never more certain than when he entered her at that moment, and they were joined again as they had been destined to be for eternity.
Rolling sheets of passion flooded between them, each release bringing them closer and higher until neither one could take another minute of the pleasure they had endured. In a crumpled heap, they lay together as they always had, memorizing the feel of the other’s body against them.
“Do you think anyone will ever find us if we stay just like this?” Kennedy asked, only half-joking. She could think of nowhere else she wanted to be—ever.
“Maybe the maid?”
“She keeps to herself,” Kennedy chuckled. “Maybe if we hide out under the bed…”
The sound of the front door closing caused them both to tense.
“Dad’s home,” Kennedy mumbled. “We better get dressed.” Owen snickered, and she shot him a baleful look. “This is not a laughing matter,” she reminded him, causing him to shrug.
“It’s just… I never really had much of a teenager stage, so I imagine this is what it felt like.”
“You guys were born fully mature.”
“More or less,” Owen agreed, but he did dress quickly. At the door, he snatched Kennedy back into his arms and kissed her sweetly. “I love you, Kennedy.”
Kennedy smiled up at him. “I think I knew that even before you met me.”
He grinned. “I’ll take that as an ‘I love you too, Owen.’”
“I love you more, Owen.”
They locked gazes and nodded at one another, as if to boost the other’s confidence, before stealing into the hallway. Owen reached out and took her hand comfortingly. Kennedy took it eagerly.
“Daddy?” she called as they wandered down the stairs. “Daddy, are you home?” There was no answer, no sounds emanating from the study, but Kennedy assumed that was where he had gone. “Dad?”
She pushed open the double doors and gasped, her face contorting in shock.
“Dad! Dad!” Disentangling her hand from Owen’s, Kennedy bolted toward Cameron, who was slumped over his desk, blood pouring from his nose. “Oh, my gods! DADDY!”
“What the hell happened?” Owen demanded, hurrying forward, but as he did, Kennedy was overcome with dizziness, and she began to swoon. Owen caught her as her legs buckled. “There’s something poisonous in this room!” Owen cried, gathering Kennedy into his arms.
But by the time they reached the door, she had already lost consciousness, and a red streak escaped her ears and trickled down the flushed skin of her neck.
No more than two minutes passed before Kennedy regained consciousness, but she was too discombobulated to understand what was happening.
“Daddy?” she called out, flashes of her father’s deathly pale face fresh in her mind. “Owen?” She blinked and looked around, but to her horror, she only saw Rocco leering down at her.
“Hi, babe,” he chirped. “Glad you made it out alive.”
She stared at him uncomprehendingly. “W-what did you do?” she choked. “What happened?”
“Meh, just a little silver. If I get to him on time, he’ll be okay,” Rocco replied easily, and Kennedy managed to lift her head toward the study doors, which were closed.
“How did you manage to get it in the office without the silver affecting you?”
“I don’t know. I guess the small amount of vampire blood I have has always made me immune to its side effects,” he responded with his lips curving upward in a smug smile.
“Where is Owen?” she cried, struggling to her feet. Rocco looked perplexed.
“Owen?” he repeated. “Are you delirious? He wants nothing to do with you, remember?” Confusion made her head blurry. Had she dreamt about Owen? Had Rocco poisoned her and screwed with her memory?
“I have to get to Daddy,” she moaned, ambling awkwardly to her feet. She could taste blood on the insides of her mouth.
“Well, the clock is tickin
g for him,” Rocco agreed. “He’s got maybe another five minutes before the silver does him in entirely. I put it in his desk so he couldn’t see it. By the time he sat down, he was a goner, really.”
“Why?” Kennedy squealed, rushing dizzily toward the doors. Rocco stood in her way, blocking her from entering.
“How are you going to help? The second you go in there, you’ll fall unconscious again. No, we need someone without Lycan blood to get him out… if you give me what I want, Kenn.”
“What the hell do you want?” Kennedy yelled, panic seizing her. “Tell me! You can have it!”
Rocco nodded amiably and patted her head like she was a puppy. “Good! I knew you’d be easy to break. The problem with you, Kenn, is that your dad spoiled the hell out of you. If you were my daughter—”
“GET HIM OUT OF THERE!” she roared, but the intensity of her words knocked her back again, and she started having trouble breathing. “Please, Rocco. Get him out!”
Rocco’s bemused expression turned violent, and he suddenly advanced on her with such ferocity that she was expecting to be struck. “You don’t tell me what to do, Kennedy. I am your master, don’t forget it.”
“My what?”
“Your master. Say it. ‘Rocco, you’re my master.’”
“Rocco, you’re insane!” Kennedy spat, pushing past him, but he shoved her down, and she fell effortlessly against the marble floor. She willed herself to shift, but she was far too weakened.
“You’re not acting right already,” Rocco growled. “Say it, bitch. Say I’m your master.”
Kennedy opened her mouth, her eyes wide with fear. She knew she needed to tell him what he wanted to hear, or neither her nor Cameron were getting out of this alive.
“I’m waiting, and your poor papa is dying!” Rocco called in a singsong voice. “Say I’m your master.”
He’s insane, Kennedy thought. He’s always been insane. Why didn’t I see this side of him before? How could I have ever trusted anything that came out of his mouth? But there was no time for regrets or questions. Her father was fading, and she was powerless to stop it…
“You’re my—”
“You’re an asshole.”
The tone was low and sweeping like the wind, following through the front doors, which smashed open. Owen was in full dragon form, his amber eyes blazing with fury. His body overtook the entire entranceway, scaly tail knocking down every priceless artifact in its wake. Relief sank Kennedy to her knees, but before she could relish in the fact that she had been saved, Rocco transformed, too.
“Oh, the big bad dragon, huh?” he growled, his fangs gleaming. “Come and get me—”
He was unable to finish his sentence, his entire body engulfed in a long lick of flames. Piercing screams filled the air, and Kennedy had to look away from the horrific mess of writhing limbs that surrounded her. The smell of burning fur made her gag, and she stumbled away, lest she be caught in the frantic thrust of Rocco’s frenzy.
“You’re okay,” Owen murmured as she scampered behind his tail, trying to disappear. “You’re okay.”
“Daddy!” she sobbed. “My father is dying in there!”
“No,” Owen replied, his glittering eyes still fixed on the slowly faltering body of their Lycan nemesis. “That’s where I was—getting him out. I saw Rocco coming in as I struggled to get your father out of the window. I figured it had to be silver. It didn’t affect me at all. Rocco obviously didn’t expect me to be around, and I wanted the element of surprise on my side.”
Kennedy peeked out, hearing Rocco’s body fall to the floor with a thud, and she swallowed the lump of fear in her throat.
“Is he okay?” she whispered, darting her eyes up to Owen. He slowly allowed himself back into his mortal form, his brow creasing in concern.
“He’ll be out for a least a day, but he’s not dead. I’m surprised you care,” he replied, a slight annoyance in his voice.
“What—? Not Rocco, my father!”
Understanding lit Owen’s eyes. “Yes. I have an anecdote for silver poisoning at the palace. I’ll bring it back.”
Kennedy turned toward the charred but live frame on the signed floor. “Put him in the library and leave him there,” she hissed. “I don’t want him to live.”
“I intended to do just that,” Owen replied softly. “Come on. I’ll take you to your father.”
The couple made their way out to the front yard, where Cameron lay against the iron of the gate, slowly regaining consciousness.
“I better get out of here before he loses it,” Owen murmured. “This isn’t really the time to get him worked up.”
“No!” Kennedy said firmly. She took his hand and marched him closer to her father. “Daddy, are you okay?” she muttered, dropping to her knees. “Look at me.”
Slowly, Cameron blinked and nodded, his gaze unfocused. “I had a dream I was riding on a dragon,” he mumbled.
“That wasn’t a dream. Owen saved your life, Daddy.” The words seemed to have a sobering effect on him, and he straightened the best he could.
“From what?” His voice was like gravel.
“From Rocco.”
“You’re not making any sense,” Cameron grumbled angrily. “What the hell happened?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Owen told Kennedy, shaking his head. He pulled her to her feet and led her slightly out of earshot. “It doesn’t matter what you say to him or that I saved his life, Kenn. I’m still a dragon. That won’t change in his eyes. You have to decide if you still want to be with me or if you want to stay here.”
Kennedy looked helplessly at her father’s weakened body, and tears sprung to her eyes. It was a terrible choice, but one she had known she would eventually have to make.
“Kennedy…”
“I need to make sure my father is safe, Owen,” she said with wide eyes.
“Of course you do, but then you must—"
“I choose you,” she breathed, throwing her arms around Owen. “I made you a promise, and I won’t ever break it. It’s you and I against the world.” She heard the race of his heart, and she pressed her face against his chest, wishing she could stop the tears from flowing down her cheeks. It will be all right, she promised herself. Owen and I are together, and that’s all that matters.
Epilogue
“This isn’t exactly as advertised, is it?” Owen asked, wrinkling his nose. “What on earth—?”
“It’s charming!” Kennedy laughed, removing a white sheet from where it was draped over a piece of unknown furniture. “Hey, look! There’s a bidet in the bathroom.”
“You’re going to have to show me how to use one,” Owen replied. They had finally made it to their house in Greece, although it had taken almost a year to get there. And what a year it has been, Owen thought wryly. He stood back and watched as Kennedy made herself at home, uncovering the furniture and laughing at the nooks and crannies of the ancient Athens house.
“This reminds me of the Time Before, you know?”
“Oh, give me a break! How old were you in the Time Before? A hundred? Fifty?” Owen countered.
“I was old enough to remember!” Kennedy protested. “Anyway, I love this place. I can’t wait for Dad to see it.”
“As long as he doesn’t expect to move in,” Owen sighed, remembering how close they’d come to all living together.
After Cameron had fully recovered from his poisoning, many truths had come to light, ones that had been difficult for the Lycan leader to accept.
“He was the one who engaged the Sunside Lycans to destroy your company,” Cameron realized. “I would never do anything so…”
“Stupid?” Kennedy supplied. “Reckless? Psychotic?”
“All of those things,” Cameron conceded. He had sighed and stared at Owen with great distress. “I never even gave you a chance. I always thought the worst of you, and you still saved mine and my daughter’s lives from that lunatic. I owe you more than you can ever imagine.”
“Yo
u don’t owe me anything,” Owen said. “But you should know I am not leaving your daughter.”
“There is no need. I have personally lifted the dragon ban in place. Any Lycan is free to consort with your family or any other dragons who may come to be.”
Owen and Kennedy exchanged a look.
“I hope there will be lots of dragons who come to be,” Owen murmured in her ear, and she blushed pink.
“There will be,” she assured him, making his heart sing with glee. He had come to see just how much he wanted children, perhaps encouraged by little Bernadette’s hugs and smiles.
“In any case, I want to offset the costs that your company endured as a result of Rocco’s insanity,” Cameron continued. “How much was it?”
Owen swallowed a smirk. He didn’t want to tell the Lycan in fear it might set back his recovery. “It’s only money, Cameron. We have a thousand lifetimes to make it again.”
“Have you considered another line of work?” Cameron asked, and Kennedy groaned.
“Dad…”
“Like what?”
“Like jewelry, of course. I would give you a fifty percent stake in my company—”
“Cameron, you don’t owe me anything,” Owen groaned again. “You forget, Kennedy is my responsibility. I have a duty to protect her.”
“You didn’t have one to protect me.”
It was then that Owen knew that Kennedy’s father would not rest until he had repaid his perceived debt in some way.
“I can’t promise he won’t ask to move in here,” Kennedy said, bringing him back from his reverie. “But that doesn’t mean you have to say yes.”
“You can tell him no. I hate the puppy dog eyes he makes at me.”
“You’re going to suck at laying down ground rules as a parent,” Kennedy snickered, and Owen shrugged.
“You can be the disciplinarian.”