Fire Breathing Blaise (Dragons of the Bayou Book 3)

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Fire Breathing Blaise (Dragons of the Bayou Book 3) Page 5

by Candace Ayers


  Blaise, the giant red dragon that he was, hovered over me, a very panicked look on his huge dragon face. He threw back his massive head and let out a roar that shook the ground.

  I was so relieved to be able to breathe that I forgot about the pain I was in. I pulled myself from the mud and struggled to my knees. “Y-You saved me.”

  Blaise transformed in front of me, the act was dizzying in my current state. “No, no, no, no. Chyna! Oh, Chyna. Stay with me. Stay with me, mate.”

  I let him pick me up. The moment I was in his arms, the world seemed to settle back into place. His big body was cool against me, and his touch was so gentle. I knew that he’d take care of me. I knew I could stop worrying now.

  “I must take you to a human healer. A doctor. Where does one find a doctor?” He sounded so panicked. Different from anything I’d observed from him before, and I didn’t like it.

  “I’m okay, Blaise. I just need a shower and maybe a couple of Band-Aids.”

  “Hospital! Why do none of us know where a flaming hospital is?!”

  I rested my head on his shoulder and smiled up at him. “Blaise, I’m fine. Just take me home and hose me off.”

  It was around then that I realized that I must’ve been in shock or something. Take me home and hose me off? If I was rational, I might have agreed that a hospital seemed like a good idea. Well, maybe. But Blaise’s shoulder felt like the best pillow ever, and I was quickly losing touch with consciousness.

  Oh, well.

  10

  Chyna

  Wherever Blaise had taken me, I thought about suing them. I kept waking up in a world of pain and then passing out again. Each time, I regained more awareness. Enough to know that my sister was there and she was being really loud for a librarian. Screaming. She was screaming incoherent things. I made a mental note to tell her to use her indoor voice—once I could talk again. When my boot was removed, I moaned in pain, then lost consciousness again. When I finally woke up for good later, I remembered that more than anything—the pain of my boot coming off and the glass ripping out of my foot with it.

  My whole body hurt. Parts that I hadn’t known I possessed hurt. Parts that had no reason to hurt, hurt. It felt like I had been scrubbed with a cheese grater. Was I raw and blistered? I’d never been a vain person, but the anxiety of wondering how I looked settled in my stomach and stayed there.

  It took me a while to open my eyes. I was so darn tired. When I did, though, my eyes felt scratchy and as achy as the rest of me, maybe a little more. The first thing I saw was Blaise sitting next to me, his elbows resting on the side of my bed. His bed. I was in his bedroom, back in his castle. Back in his bed. His head was hanging low, and his shoulders were hunched forward. He looked older than the last time I’d seen him, and exhausted.

  Like he could feel me looking at him, he jerked and sat up straight. When he noticed me watching him, he leaned in and pressed a hard kiss on my forehead. Something wet landed on my cheek, and before I could tell if he was really crying, he’d stood up and vanished from the room.

  In his place, my sister appeared, her own eyes red and swollen. “You scared the hell out of us! What were you doing out there? What happened? God, Chyna. You could’ve died.”

  I held my breath as she sobbed against me, that realization hitting me. I could’ve died. I suddenly felt as though an elephant had traipsed into the room and found that the only place suitable to sit was my chest. Death had never been a thought before. Obviously, I knew it would come eventually, but that was the closest I’d ever come to it.

  “I think you’re hurting her, mate.” Cezar’s soft voice was gentle as he pulled Cherry away from my bed. “She is probably sore.”

  I shook my head, ignoring the pain, and reached out for her. When she rushed back to my side, wrapping my arms around her did hurt, but I needed to feel reassured for the moment.

  “Don’t you ever scare me like that again. Just when I stopped worrying about losing you, you go and nearly die on me.” Cherry stroked my hair and groaned. “There’s still mud in your hair.”

  “I could not get it all out.” Blaise’s gravel-filled voice came from the corner. I guessed he hadn’t left the room after all. “I will try again when she is feeling up to it.”

  I let Cherry go and tried to sit up. Blaise was right beside me in a flash, though, resting his hand on my shoulder and pushing me gently back down.

  “You are not well enough to get up yet.”

  I tried to speak and found my throat was sore and burning. I cleared it and tried again. I was able to produce a hoarse resemblance to my voice. “I want to sit up.”

  He stared down at me, his face hard, and shook his head. “You must rest. You need to sleep. Cezar and your sister are leaving.”

  “What? I never said—” Cherry started but was cut off by Cezar.

  “Let’s give them some time, mate. Your sister needs her rest.” He shifted his gaze to Blaise. “And her mate needs time to get himself under control.”

  I studied Blaise…his lips were pressed together tightly, and his expression radiated tension and high stress, as though he was barely holding himself together.

  “Blaise.” My voice wasn’t any stronger, but it got Blaise’s attention.

  He looked down at me and blew out a big breath. Shaking his head, he brushed his hands over his face. “I will let you know when she wakes up again.”

  Cherry hugged me again and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I love you. Feel better.” Then, she brought her mouth closer to my ear so I could hear her whisper. “At least I know you’re in good hands. He hasn’t left your side for a second.”

  I wanted to respond, ask her questions about that, but I was already fading. Sleep tugged at me like a toddler at a sleeve. I fought it as much as I could, but Blaise was right. Sleep was the best option.

  I awoke briefly a few more times during the night. Blaise was always there beside me, ready to do whatever I needed. Twice, I needed help to the bathroom. Once, he held my hair back as I sat up with a jerk and violently threw up all over myself. I’d had a nightmare of the fire and of dying. After I was finished, he held me in the bathtub and gently ran cool water over my skin until I was clean.

  I was never fully awake enough to appreciate any of it. I went out as fast as I came to each time, all of it more like a fever dream than reality. When morning came, though, I was rested. I woke up still feeling rough around the edges, but more myself. I was present and aware of my surroundings.

  I was aware I was in Blaise’s castle. The place I’d tried hard to get away from, with the man I’d snuck away from, the dragon who’d saved me from burning alive. The man who’d sat at my side the entire night and took better care of me than a mother would her newborn baby.

  “You are awake.”

  I turned my head to find Blaise sitting by the large windows that looked out at the lime-green swamp. I couldn’t help but appreciate the view. A few cranes moved around the cypresses, darting in and out between the morning sun and shadows. But the real view was the man sitting in the chair. As I studied him, I felt my breath catch in my chest.

  Backlit as he was, I could see a ring of gold around his red hair. His face was in the shadows, but the fatigue in his expression was clear.

  That huge dummy in me felt something akin to butterflies at the sight of him. “You saved me.”

  He stood up and walked over to me. “You left. And then you almost killed yourself.”

  I nodded. There was no point in arguing with his obviously sour mood. He wasn’t wrong. I had left. Then, I had almost accidentally gotten myself killed. He was right. Although, he said it as though I’d meant to do both, like he was angry at me for both things.

  “Tell me what happened. When I got there, I smelled gasoline and other accelerants.” The bed dipped as he sat next to me. “Did you do that?”

  “No! Of course not. Why would I do that?”

  “Why did you leave me?”

  I tried to sit up. Argui
ng with him while lying down seemed unfair. When I pressed my feet against the bed to leverage myself, the pain in my right foot was so shocking I saw stars for a second. I gasped and instantly stuck it back out, trying to alleviate that pain.

  Blaise growled and caught my leg. “Careful!”

  “I’m not trying to hurt it!”

  “So, you are this graceful naturally?”

  I hissed at him, anger getting the best of me. “Get out.”

  “It is my home.”

  “Then, I’ll get out.” I tried to sit up again and managed to get halfway upright before Blaise’s big hand landed in the middle of my chest and pushed me back down. He was gentle, too gentle. It felt like a caress.

  “You will stay this time. Whether you like it or not.”

  I growled, and to my surprise, he growled right back at me. Only, his growl was fierce and shook the house. Deflated, I sank back into my pillows and sighed. “I guess I’ll stay a little longer.”

  11

  Blaise

  I still had not come to terms with the horror of hearing Chyna’s cries and seeing the smoke and rising flames. Realizing she was in the midst of it had been the worst, most frightening moment of my entire existence. I had a lot of terrible moments to call on, plenty that would’ve cracked a weaker dragon. Finding Chyna that way had topped all of them. If I didn’t focus, my hands still shook and my heart still pounded out of control.

  My dragon paced like a caged animal.

  She was so small and helpless. She’d been a tiny lump on the ground, coated in dark mud that at first I’d thought was her burned, cracked skin. She was still helpless as a kitten, yet she was already fighting with me. More of that stubborn streak. But, if that stubbornness of hers kept her alive, I loved every bit of it.

  I stood up and stared down at my tiny mate under the layers of blankets. Her injuries could have been so much worse. Her skin was red tinged and tender, as though she had a bad sunburn. Her foot was the worst. She’d be fine, I knew, but it was harder to convince my dragon. He demanded revenge. If Chyna hadn’t poured that gasoline around, someone else had. She’d almost died. Someone would pay.

  “You must eat. I will make you breakfast.” I did not want to leave her, even for a few minutes, but she needed sustenance to heal.

  In my kitchen, I grabbed a few things I thought would make a decent meal. I was not a cook. Or a cleaner. Dirty dishes were piled high in the sink. Usually, rather than clean them, I just threw them away and bought more. Just as I did with clothes.

  Now that I had a mate, though, she would do the cooking when she was healed. Until then, she would have to deal with whatever I could throw together. Which was not much. An egg, maybe some burned toast, and a hunk of sausage cooked by dragon fire.

  When I made it back to my bedroom, Chyna was sitting up, frowning at me. I sighed and put the food down in front of her. “What?”

  “I want to go home.”

  Anger bubbled up inside. I would care for her. I had to care for her. I would not even be able to keep my dragon stable if I was not near her to assure myself she was okay. “You are home. This is your home now.”

  Her eyes widened, and she shook her head. “No. No, my home is still my home. This is your home, and I shouldn’t be hanging out here for days on end.”

  “You live here now. With me. We can move your stuff here when you feel better. Or we can buy you new stuff.” I pushed the food closer. “You should eat. The sooner you rebuild your strength, the faster you will heal.”

  “I must still be dreaming.” Chyna pushed the food back at me and threw her good foot over the side of the bed to try and get up. “This is insane. We had one night together. One great night. One fantastic night, but still, only one night. I’m not moving in with you. While I appreciate you saving my life, I don’t owe you anything for it. You can’t keep me here. Call my sister. I want to go home. Now.”

  I easily caught her before she could stand and pulled her into my lap. “Stop. You cannot go anywhere right now.”

  “You can’t keep me here.”

  “I can and I will.” I pressed my face into the crook of her neck and felt her body tighten against mine. “This mark? You are mine, Chyna. Even if you were not, I would not release you right now. You are injured. You must rest, and you should not be alone.”

  “It means…” She cleared her throat. “It means nothing. It’s just a hickey.”

  I gripped the back of her neck and moved her so that she was sitting across my lap and staring into my eyes. “Just a what?”

  “A hickey. It’s nothing.” She blinked too fast and looked away. Lying. She knew that the mark wasn’t nothing.

  I pulled her into me even tighter and pressed my lips against hers. Instantly, her arms went around my neck, and her hands tangled in my hair. Pulling back just enough to meet her gaze, I licked my lips and fought for control. “Not nothing. We were made for each other. My mate. We belong to each other. Forever, Chyna.

  Her eyes cleared, and a fire appeared in them, not dissimilar to the fire she’d been trapped in. Placing her hands against my chest, she shoved, fighting to get off me. To avoid hurting her, I gently put her down in the bed and stood above her, unhappily glaring at her.

  “What now?”

  “What is wrong with you?”

  “Currently? I have a crazy mate who can’t stop fighting about the simplest things.”

  “The simplest things?”

  “I will provide you with an easy life, mate. You do not know the things some mated females go through. Not all dragons are easy. We are not all roses and sunshine like Cezar.” I picked up her plate of food and tried to hand it to her again. “I will not require of you the things some men do. I wish for things to be easy for you.”

  Tears filled her eyes, and my chest felt like it was cracking open. My mother had cried. Only when things were really bad. I was not treating her badly, though. Not that I thought. So, why was she crying?

  “Easy for me? So, you think I should just move in and do what? Shop and paint my nails?”

  “Of course not. There will be household things for you to do. I do not cook or clean well. You will take care of that. Mostly, we will just spend our time together, enjoying being mates.”

  In the blink of an eye, her plate was flying back at my head. I ducked and growled. “What in fire’s sake?”

  Chyna sat up higher, her entire body tense. “I don’t care what you think you are to me or I am to you. Get the fuck out. Or call my sister and get me the hell out of here. I’m not your maid. I’m not giving up my life and moving in here because you need a fucking servant. Male chauvinist asshat! Of course, Cherry gets the amazing dragon and I’m stuck with the sexist dragon whose ideas are stuck in the last century.”

  Shocked by her outburst, I stepped back. “You think Cezar is a better mate?”

  “A patch of grass would be a better mate. Get out! I’d rather my foot fall off than stay here for another second. Get my sister here, or I’m going to snap and then you really won’t like me. This behavior must toast your marshmallows if you expected a mate to act like a subservient, proper little demure housewife, daintily wiping your ass and having dinner on the table for you when you get home. Why are you still standing here? OUT!”

  Faced with a female who’d clearly lost her mind, I backed away with my hands raised. I did not know what had angered her, but she was livid. That rage would have scared anyone. I swallowed no pride in rushing out.

  Standing outside of my bedroom, I dragged my hands down my face and groaned. My mother had never acted like that. She had always just done her tasks and been happy to take care of the castle and her children. I tried to imagine what my father would have done if my mother would have screamed at him and thrown a plate at his head the way Chyna had.

  Curiously, the thought almost brought a smile to my face. I would have enjoyed seeing that. My father would’ve been incensed, though, and the punishment would have been swift and harsh. My Chyna
would never be treated that way.

  Thoughts of my mother and father killed any last vestiges of joy I harbored. I headed outside to give Chyna some space and to talk to my brother.

  12

  Chyna

  Fuming, I wasn’t sure what had just happened. I looked at the mess I’d made by throwing the plate across the room, but I couldn’t make myself care about it. Blaise probably assumed I’d hop right outta bed and clean it up. I couldn’t get over that he thought he’d be granting me this amazingly easy life if I’d just give up everything and become his personal servant. I’d fill my time with cleaning and cooking for him, but it would all be okay because he’d come home and fuck me at the end of the day.

  Sick as it was, my body still responded to that last thought—sex with Blaise. I hadn’t had enough. When he’d held me and kissed me, I’d forgotten everything else. I’d just wanted him. It was wrong, though. Blaise couldn’t be farther from the right man for me. I had to get out of there.

  A whirlwind had descended on my life and tossed me into some alternate reality where things made zero sense. Dragons existed and some of them were misogynistic asshats.

  I shouldn’t have been surprised. Men were men anywhere, right? Apparently, even across worlds. I couldn’t get over the look on his face when he’d explained that I could just cook and clean for him for the rest of my life. Forever. He’d looked so proud of himself, like he was the best man ever for allowing me to clean up his mess. Not to mention the fact that his place was a pig sty.

  A fresh round of fury scorched out the sorrow that I was simultaneously feeling. It was like there was a separate being in me that didn’t care how Blaise treated me, as long as he came back and we were together. That big dumb part of me. He hadn’t treated me poorly, that part of me shouted. While that was true, allowing myself to make excuses like that for him was dangerous. For all I knew, I could end up like my mother.

 

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