“You’re adopted.”
“We’re twins.”
“Whatever. Just come and get me, Cherry. Please. And hurry.” I was running scared and I knew it. Something about the night before had gotten under my skin like nothing else ever had. It was as though I could feel Blaise’s imprint forming on me. I didn’t do those kinds of attachments, though. And the whole thing was highly uncomfortable. Highly.
“We’ll come get you in his boat. He has a really big boat.”
I had a feeling she was looking at Cezar while talking to me and playing the double-entendre game with him. I fake gagged. “Just hurry, okay?”
“Fine,” she sighed. “You owe me, though.”
I hung up and ran my hands over my face. Crusted mascara flaked into my eyes, and I blinked rapidly to try to save myself from blindness.
The view from Blaise’s dock was spectacular. Cypress trees dotted the marsh, and dead, decaying branches poked through the surface of the algae-covered water. Although the water was as still as a sheet of light green glass, I knew that underneath wild creatures went about their secret lives.
As if on cue, a hissing sound echoed from somewhere nearby, prompting me to take a few steps back toward the house, or castle, as my sister said the dragons called their domiciles. I knew plenty about Louisiana wildlife—enough to know better than to welcome a problem.
I leaned against the side of Blaise’s castle, next to a section that was clearly under construction, and waited for Cherry and Cezar to show up. I had to fight the urge to go back inside and curl up to Blaise, an urge that increased with every passing second.
The night before had been so much more than I expected it could be. No wonder the entire world was so into sex. I finally understood the pull. I guess I just need to find the right person. Dragon. Whatever. A huge part of me wanted to spend the morning waking up next to Blaise. Warm feelings stirred in my chest at the thought. Ugh, that huge part of me was dumb. She couldn’t be trusted.
By the time I saw the boat cutting through the still water, heading toward the dock at the edge of the property, the huge dumb part of me had halfway convinced the reluctant running-away part that I should just head back in and see what would happen if I did stick around. That thought sent red flags flying in all directions, and I sprinted down the dock just as Cherry and Cezar got closer. They’d barely pulled up to it in their bateau when I jumped into the boat. It rocked dangerously but settled quickly.
“What’s the rush?” Cezar looked toward the house and frowned. “Did Blaise do something not to your liking?”
My face blushed. I’d liked what he’d done very much. “Um…”
“Oh, wow. I recognize that look. She’s been screwed stupid.” Cherry smiled at Cezar. “I’ve worn it myself a few times.”
Cezar’s brow furrowed. “Only a few?”
“Would you two stop?!” I smacked Cherry and shook my head. “Blaise was great. I just need to get home. I have…work.”
Cezar glanced at my neck, and his eyebrows went up. “Are you certain you wish to leave?”
When I ran my hand over the spot he was staring at, I remembered Blaise biting me. “What? What is it?”
He looked at Cherry and nodded to my neck. Cherry looked and screamed. “Oh, my god! He claimed you!”
I wanted to strangle her. “If you keep screaming, you’re going to wake him up and I won’t be able to sneak away. So, hush. Let’s just get on with my boat ride of shame. No more talking. Please.”
They allowed that rule to stand for less than two minutes.
“If he marked you, why are you leaving?”
I glared at my sister. “Just because a guy gives you a hickey doesn’t mean you have to stay with him all day, Cherry.”
“Hickey?” Cezar looked confused.
Cherry smiled sweetly at her mate. “It’s a sucking mark. Vaguely resembling a bite mark, well, more like a strong kiss. Not a claiming mark.”
“What are you two talking about?” I glanced back the way we’d come. I could still see the outline of Blaise’s huge home. Why did that make my chest ache? “You know what? Forget I asked. We’re dropping this right now. Not another word!”
“I’m going to catch flames from Blaise for this.” Cezar sighed.
“He claimed you, Chyna. That means you’re his mate. Like his wife, only more. Lifelong, live for centuries together, connected telepathically, mate. Like me and Cezar.”
That huge dummy in me that wanted to stay and curl back up to Blaise grew brighter with hope, but I squashed her down. “No. Way.”
“Yes.” Cherry moved closer to me, rocking the boat. “I was so worried, Chyna. I was scared that I would lose you in a few decades and have to live for another thousand years without you. I even had nightmares of being young and healthy and having to watch you grow old and die.”
“An optimist, always.”
“I’m serious. Mates of dragons live as long as the dragon they’re mated to. These dragons are hundreds of years old, Chyna. Hundreds of years. I didn’t want to live that long without you.” When Cezar huffed, she smiled at him and batted her eyes. “Of course, I’d have you to comfort me, mate.”
“Whoa. Hold your horses, sis. Blaise is not my mate.”
“Blaise most definitely is your mate. That mark on your neck proves it.” Cezar nodded to my neck again. “And from the way your neck is gnawed on, he may have lost control a bit. His dragon did a number on you.”
“No.”
“Yes.” Cherry clapped her hands and then leaned back on her end of the boat. She smiled a pleased and satisfied smile. “I wonder what the world will be like a hundred years from now. Hopefully, the internet connection at our castle will be faster.”
I shuddered. I had tried to get my stagnant life flowing again by dipping my toe in a moving current, but instead I’d freaking fallen head first into an undertow. And, despite me flailing to get myself back to dry land, I was being pulled farther under. Drowning.
8
Blaise
I felt the empty ache before I’d even become completely conscious. Something was wrong. I rolled over to find my mate, and she was not there. My dragon let out a massive roar, and I was on my feet, still naked, roaming my castle. She was gone. Someone had taken her.
I sniffed the air and was shocked to find the scent of Cezar and his mate.
You. Will. Pay.
Cezar’s laughter rang in my head, and I looked around for anything to pound my fists against. She called my mate and demanded we come and get her. Do you need lessons on satisfying your female, brother?
I exploded in a fiery ball of fury and took to the sky as my dragon. I would find Cezar and challenge him to a battle.
Cherry’s thoughts were pushed into my addled brain. It’s not Cezar’s fault. My sister doesn’t know that you’re mates. You should have explained that. You’re going to have to work on her.
I’d found Cherry’s unexplained visits to my head humorous before, when she was poking fun at Cezar, but at that moment, I was infuriated. She is my mate. She should know. I should not have to court her.
I felt Cherry sigh in my head. It’s not always that easy.
It is that easy. Dragon finds mate, mate accepts dragon, the end.
Cezar growled. Watch yourself. Speak more nicely to my mate, or I will accept your battle challenge.
I blocked any further communication and soared higher in the sky. I knew I needed to talk to them more and figure out what was happening with my mate, but I didn’t trust that I wouldn’t attack Cezar at first sight. He had assisted my mate in leaving me.
Why would my mate want to leave me? I knew I’d pleased her the night before. She’d cried out during multiple orgasms, and I had felt her body respond. Her leaving did not make sense to me.
I knew Cezar always talked about modern human women in this world, but the females on Earth weren’t that different from the dragon females in the old world. When they felt that mate calling, it had to be
the same. It was strong, forceful, and it changed everything. My own mother had left her parents and siblings right away for my father. She’d been pregnant with us twins within the first month after she’d arrived at my father’s kingdom.
It should’ve been that simple. Mates mated. Cherry and Cezar are telling me that I, a mighty dragon warrior, a king, must court her like a flaming coward. I will not!
I soared higher, where the air was sparse. Higher, where my fire struggled against the thin, cold air. I didn’t look down at my new home. I rarely did when I flew that high. I could almost pretend we were still in the old world.
Everything was simpler then, especially in my kingdom. Everyone had a role, and they filled it without question. No one ran from their roles.
It’s different with human women, Blaise. Beast and I had to win our mates over. You must prove to her that you are worthy of her risking her heart with you.
I growled at Cezar’s interference. I didn’t want his opinion. I knew Beast and Cezar had to fight for their mates, but they are weak; they are not of the crimson dragon lineage. I’d heard plenty of things about their kingdom from my father. It was as different as possible from my home. My father had always said that they were not true warriors. Even though my father had been gone for over a hundred years, his harsh voice still echoed in the back of my mind. I tried not to think less of Cezar, he was a friend after all, but I would not take advice from a soft, cowardly dragon like him about claiming my mate.
Well, I wouldn’t take any more advice from him. It was just by chance that I’d met my mate while following his advice about searching in places humans found their mates.
It took hours to calm down just enough to descend to a normal flying height. I was furious. If I delved into what I was feeling enough, I knew there would be hurt underlying the anger, but I wasn’t ready to let go of the anger. My mate had chosen to leave me. Despite what Cherry and Cezar said, my mate should’ve stayed.
I thought back to my parents. Remy and I had grown up in our royal palace. Although we’d had servants, assistants, nannies, and maids, the only other mated pair I witnessed was my parents. Their mating was…remembering it conjured a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. It was not at all the type of mating I wanted with Chyna.
If that was what Chyna and I were destined to become, perhaps I should just let her go. Shame washed over me. Maybe I was better off without her. No, maybe she was better off without me.
But my heart could not accept that. I was not my father. I would not have a mating like he had with my mother. There had to be another way.
Something I could say for the new world we’d landed in was that it was much lusher than my old home. Green vegetation covered everything. Even where we’d chosen to stay, in the swamps and marshes. In the old world, a place so surrounded by water wouldn’t be as green. Plants and trees drowned and died out once the waters took over. The new world was so different from my home.
It was hard to accept that the old world was gone to us, even after nearly a hundred years away from it. Remy and I had been kings—all of us had. Virtual gods in our own kingdoms. Here in the new world, we hid our true natures. It didn’t feel right.
I wasn’t over my brooding, I decided. Flying higher again, I let out a short burst of flames and growled. I was mixed up.
I wanted my queen. She was mine. She was destined to be at my side. I couldn’t help feeling bitter because things had not gone the way I’d planned. More thoughts of my father filled my head, and it was all I could do to stay in the air.
Shaking my head and thrusting my wings, I tried to outfly those thoughts.
Everything about Chyna was perfect. Except maybe her stubbornness… I didn’t know. We had barely spoken. I didn’t know what she was like, outside of the bedroom. It did not matter in the end because I would have her as my mate, no matter what.
I longed for her, and whether I agreed with Cezar’s approach or not, my dragon and I had waited for hundreds of years for a mate, and now that I knew who she was, I no longer had the patience to wait. I would find her myself.
9
Chyna
There was a cloud of gloom hanging over my head for the rest of the day. I’d showered away all traces of Blaise once I got home, but I still felt him with me. I could almost feel his annoyance with me, too, dark and angry, hovering over me like a disapproving authority figure. Right over the spot he’d left his mark on me. The mark that I couldn’t wash off.
Working had been a pipedream, but I’d still gone out into the bayou to try. I had a few posts set up in different parts of the swamp near my home that I needed to check regularly.
I’d traveled the world, but the bayous of Louisiana were where my heart lived, and not just because I was born and raised in the state. In my opinion, the wetlands of the deep south were one of the most incredible places on Earth. I was more comfortable in the bayou than most people were in their own living rooms.
I was currently in the process of experimentation, trying to develop a few different strands of produce that would thrive in the wetlands of our part of the country. My long-term goal was to eventually provide a new industry for the bayou folk I’d grown up around. It was my side project. Usually, I traveled to different places in the country—the world, even—to work on growing various crops or to study the flora of different locals and climates. I held a degree in horticulture, and I frequently worked with other horticulturists, botanists, and plant genome engineers whose names were decorated with more diplomas and were followed by more initials than mine, but who didn’t possess my green thumb. In fact, I was frequently praised by colleagues who claimed that I could make a lilypad grow in the desert.
What I couldn’t do was figure out what kind of animal kept messing with the post farthest from my house. Every time I made it back to the little hut, something had scratched at the door until the lock gave. It’d been getting inside and rooting around, killing any chances I had at getting the seeds to germinate and grow.
Annoyed and ready to call it a day, I figured I’d give it one more look-see before going home and crawling into bed. I made my way to the back of the hut to pick up the lantern I kept there for the occasions when I lost track of time, worked too late, and got caught out in the swamps and marshes after sundown. It was already getting dark outside, and I knew that by the time I got halfway back home, it would be pitch black and I was more likely to stick my foot in the mouth of a gator than to land it safely on my back porch.
I fumbled around and retrieved the pack of matches from a supply box under the lantern, removed a single match, and struck it. As soon as I did, I realized my mistake. The lantern was holding liquid in its grooves, a place that should have been dry. Had the lamp oil leaked out somehow? As the realization crossed my mind, it was followed quickly by a second realization—the liquid wasn’t kerosene. It was gasoline. How had I not noticed the smell? I’d been too distracted by trying not to think about Blaise.
What happened next was like a scene from Final Destination. I felt like death itself had suddenly arrived to play a starring role in my life. I dropped the lantern onto its shelf, too fast. It wobbled, and just when I thought it would stay upright, it tipped forward and crashed to the stony ground. The match in my other hand continued to burn while I watched in horror as the lantern shattered. When the flame licked at my fingers, I startled, dropping the match.
The burst of fire that shot up shocked me enough that it sent me reeling backward. I stepped on the shattered lantern and screamed when a huge shard of glass pierced my boot and found its way into the arch of my foot. It was deep and painful, but my immediate concern was the fire continuing to spread around me. The flames grew too big too fast. Even in my panicked state, I was aware that the fire pattern wasn’t a natural progression. All that gasoline, how had I not smelled it?
My hut was small and made of old wood that seemed excited to burn. Before I could hobble across the space, the whole place seemed to be up in flames.
My heart raced, and I sucked in lungsful of thick smoke that reeked of burning gasoline and lighter fluid. I sank to the damp earth and crawled toward the door. It wasn’t far—a few feet. Even with the pain shooting up my leg, I could make it. As long as I could breathe and get out, I’d be fine. But a split second before I reached it, the door became consumed in flames.
My brain raced through exit strategies. I’d been in a few dangerous situations before, and I wasn’t one to allow panic to overtake and immobilize me. The little room burned hotter, though. I was trapped inside a furnace. My face felt like it was roasting, and the air was so thick with smoke it caused tears to stream down my face.
I gasped in smoke-filled air and screamed as loud as I could, hoping someone would hear me. How had it escalated so fast? Mere seconds had passed, but everything around me was burning.
My seeds were at the edge of the hut, planted directly in the damp soil. I moved toward them and dug my hands in the mud, relieved to find a respite from the heat for a second. Desperate and fighting for my life, I grabbed handfuls of mud and rubbed it over my burning face and hair. I tried to bury myself in it, accepting that I wasn’t getting through the burning door. I burrowed deeper and sobbed as fire licked at my skin.
Even with the dire set of circumstances I was in, I knew I wasn’t going to die. Later, I would realize how crazy that was, but in my head at the time, surrounded by fire, I thought I could just bury myself in the cool mud and wait for the fire to burn itself out. I never considered how close I was to death, or just how much pain I was in. I cried as I dug my feet into the mud, and the glass seemed to wedge deeper into my foot. Yet, I knew it would all be okay.
And it was. The mark on my neck started to burn hotter than the fire around me. Blaise. I gasped and choked on mud and black smoke, but it was quickly replaced with fresh, well fresher, air as the entire burning hut was raised skyward, vanishing from around me. It landed fifty yards away, where it sank halfway into the water.
Fire Breathing Blaise (Dragons of the Bayou Book 3) Page 4