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Fire of Stars and Dragons

Page 18

by Melissa Petreshock


  “Yes.” Cait whimpers, breathless, and I steal the words from her lips as she tries to speak, removing any last trace of doubt she held that I love her in a passionate kiss, inciting my hunger for her.

  Her fingernails rake down my back, and I push into her deeper, faster, feeling the build within her body. Cait slips her hand from my back, delicate fingers grasping me, earning a throaty primal growl, an instinctive response to my raging desire for her. “Dear Mother Goddess, Cait, have you any idea what you do to me?”

  There’s a breathy laugh in response. “I want you inside me, Theo.… I need you.” It’s a begging cry, the pain of want heavy in her voice.

  The harder she strokes my shaft, the less capable of coherent thought I find myself, and I nod, removing my fingers from her, grabbing her thighs, lifting her onto the counter. She lets go of her grip, allowing me to thrust into her, thrilled by the way she screams out my name, finding a similarly urgent pace and intensity to which Cait quite enjoyed using on me.

  Leaning her back on the counter, holding her shoulder and hip, Cait’s legs wind around me. I hover over her body, licking and biting her nipples, teasing, arousing, bringing her closer and me, too, as I feel her ready to come undone. With one more twirl of my tongue over her pebbled nipple and a sensual bite, she loses control, coming hard, unabashedly screaming my name, and I put my mouth on hers, muffling Cait’s exuberance with devouring kisses, though she does not make it easy. Thrusting harder, faster, seeking my own finishing pace, I run a thumb over her clit, ensuring she continues coming for me, riding out her climax to reach mine.

  And I reach it with a thunderous roar, grasping her waist with both hands as I bury myself into her repeatedly, forcefully, finding utter satisfaction in Cait’s body like no other before her. Taking a moment to regain my senses, I gather Cait into my arms, tender in my hold, curling her against me, protecting her forever.

  “I never stopped loving you, Cait.”

  She tickles my chest with her nose. “Me either. But for a while today, I really wanted to knock the hell out of you.”

  “Rightfully so.” There is no use denying it, but I’ve seen the error of my ways and have my Cait back, back where she belongs, or at least where I want her to be, where I hope she chooses to remain.

  The sound of the entry-door passcode buttons pressed earns a growl of frustration from me, and I wait until I hear the door open. “Turn around and leave now. Do not step further into this apartment if you value your lives.”

  “Is everything alright? We heard Cait screaming.” Claaron states his concern in a semi-sarcastic tone, considering my warning.

  Damned dragon hearing… and all of them across the hall from us.

  “Yes, she was, but she is quite alright. I am taking excellent care of her.” I wink at Cait, though I doubt she sees me in the dark. She punches me rather hard in the shoulder anyway. I hear Liam snickering; however, it sounds as though Clifford leaves. He is both the most prudish of the lot of us and the least sure how to take Cait’s behavior.

  “In the kitchen? Well, well, you get it, Cait. Let me know if I need to give him any pointers,” Claaron offers.

  She shakes her head, rolling her eyes. “I appreciate that Claaron, but I think if he didn’t have things well covered, you wouldn’t have shown up over here wondering why I was screaming.”

  “Point taken. I suppose if he continues to do his job, we’ll become well-acquainted with your ‘sex scream’ and will recognize the difference when you scream in danger.”

  Cait lets out a small, yet menacing growling sound of her own. “Snowflake, go away.” He laughs as the door closes behind him.

  *Cait*

  Playing with his hair, wrapping the strands around my fingers, still wet from our ‘cooling off’ shower, which only managed to heat things up all over again, I honestly can’t believe where we are after the roller coaster day this has been. “Will you at least tell me why?”

  Relaxed, his head rests on the pillow beside me, eyes watching every move I make as he continues running circles on my shoulder with his thumb. “Why is my hair long? Because I like it this way. Do you wish me to cut it?” Theo gathers my hair in his hand, draping it over my shoulder, winding his fingers through it. “If you prefer it shorter, I would cut it for you, if you promise to never do so to yours.”

  “Nobody is cutting anybody’s hair. That’s not what I’m talking about.” I tug on his hair hard, meaning to chastise him for being such a pain, but my dragon just smiles, brilliant white teeth gleaming, and I’d imagine someone might find his smile threatening. Someone other than me. “Why did you walk away and give me the cold shoulder after this morning, without even trying to talk about it? Why didn’t you at least tell me, ‘Hey, I’m sorry, but I think he’s better for you’ or something, anything?”

  Theo stays quiet, too quiet. In fact, he remains silent for what seems to stretch on forever. “I believed the Goddess felt it necessary to test me, to test my worthiness of protecting you, of remaining at your side.”

  “Test you?”

  “Yes, Cait,” he replies, pulling me in closer as though needing reassurance I’m with him—not that I mind. “Testing my ability to steel myself against the greatest of temptations: to feel such desire for you. I feared confusing love and lust in the overwhelming bond between a dragon and a female ward. To lust after a woman with a destiny such as yours…” Theo looks away, the shame evident in his eyes. “The Goddess would find it quite unforgivable of any Dracopraesi. Considering what we are and the purpose she created us to fulfill, she holds us to a far higher standard of honor and nobility, Cait. She would sever our bond, remove me from your service, and find a more suitable dragon to protect you, likely Claaron.”

  I slap him on the chest, shoving him back, or trying. “You’re kidding me. That pervy dragon? There is no way she could think I’d be safer with Snowflake than you if lust was the problem.”

  Laughing, Theo grabs me, rolling me over on top of him, and I settle to lay with arms crossed on his chest, head resting on them, watching his lips and eyes as he explains. “You see the façade Claaron allows. We are far too old for you to judge the human ways we choose, knowing not the reasons why. In time, you would befriend him and better understand. Do you believe we would be such close brothers if he were honestly so, as you say, ‘pervy’?”

  “Well, I did wonder.… Speaking of our silly snowflake friend, I’ve been meaning to ask about the scar under his eye. If dragons reincarnate and all, choosing their human form, why does he have that? I mean… you don’t have any scars.” Of that, I am positive. I’ve accounted for every inch of Theo’s perfect condition after our shower tonight.

  “We may be eternal, may reincarnate, returning after death, but do not be mistaken, Cait. Death does leave its mark on us.”

  His hands, far too warm to be human, slightly rough, glide over my bare body in no particular pattern, a gentle caressing touch. This is my dragon, my Theo, warm, rough, and gentle. Destruction and protection. Judgment and now, love.

  “Then what mark has death left on you? I haven’t seen one.” Kissing the smooth taut muscles of his chest, I’m unsure where he could possibly be hiding such a thing.

  “A rather elite few of us have not felt the touch of death, Cait. Seven to be exact, though it would be eight were it not for Claaron’s actions.… But that is not my story to tell.” Even in the low light of my bedroom, Theo’s disappointment wears painful evidence in creases and lines on his face. He remains quiet for some time, stroking my back, fingers playing with the ends of my hair until his expression calms again.

  “Four of the six houses hold the honor of dragons within their ranks having such distinction. In House of Pendragon, the Dracopraesi Lord Regent Agtos, sole Oracle among our kind, has survived our entire existence free of death, as well as Oliver… and me, of course.” A small smirk escapes at the admission of a right to quite a dragon ego trip. “Among the other houses, Hornwelch lays claim to one: Garrick. B
oth Elizander and Simeon proudly represent House of Tirclaw in such a manner.”

  He seems to stop, and I do a mental dragon head count. “That’s only six. Who else?”

  “Jaiteru.” Theo’s reply is quiet, a hint of something deeper in his tone, and I’m fascinated. I have not missed the fact all my ‘dragon entourage,’ as Dante calls them, and even Dante, seem excited by the prospect of this particular dragon joining us. “Although we all hold close ties to the Mother Goddess, Cait, we believe Jai is Goddess-touched in his gifted abilities as a Mage, as the only dragon with such magick. Most say Jaiteru Faerwyng is more Mage than dragon. Do not be alarmed by his…” Theo pauses, as if searching for the best word. “You might think he’s a little crazier than you already think the rest of us are.”

  “Oh, boy. A dragon even other dragons think is crazy. I can’t wait to see this.” Teasing, my favorite crazy dragon flips us over, trapping me beneath him, caging me within his arms. “Did I offend the big scary dragon?”

  Smiling down at me, he shakes his head, black hair falling to frame his face. “Every dragon to meet you will fall under the spell of your charms, Cait. You are exhilarating, breathtaking, destined for something of which we all want to be part. Those chosen are grateful for the honor.”

  I reach up, touching his face, running my hands along the strong lines of his jaw, winding my fingers though the soft raven black strands blocking the view of his eyes. “But you will always be with me, right, Theo?”

  He nods. “I will always be with you, honor-bound to protect you.” Leaning down, he places a tender kiss on my lips before looking down at me again. “The final decision in any other regard is yours. Should I be your choice, I will be your husband, mate, lover, and everything, for eternity.… But do not choose without sincere consideration, Cait.” His tone is earnest, but the pain slips through. “The decision you make has great consequence, and should you choose to marry one of eternal existence, the expectation is of eternal fidelity. Such love is timeless, unending.”

  Taking a deep breath, I keep my eyes on his. “Yes. I hear you. I’ve heard everything you’ve told me, every argument you make, everything you say, everything Dante and Corrin have said.… Will you be upset if I tell you I’m tired of thinking about it? I’ve made up my mind. I know the right answer. What I’m meant to do.”

  “Whatever your final decision, know I support it.” I can read the uncertainty in his eyes as he pulls away, sitting back on his feet, watching, waiting. “As my ward, I will protect you regardless, Cait. Giving you the right to free will is the ultimate command of the Goddess.”

  I move to sit up on my knees, facing him, taking his hands in mine. “Theo, you have always been my choice, even when you didn’t want to be, you crazy dragon,” I declare, launching myself at him, throwing my arms around his neck, not too surprised he lets me knock him backward onto the bed.

  “Your crazy dragon, Cait.… Eternally yours in every way.”

  Chapter 16

  *Corrin*

  “No. This is unacceptable.” Turning my chair, I face Oliver once again. “Theo’s desertion for another path of destiny could be overlooked, but this is preposterous. You are the First of your house. Go demand they return. Liam and Clifford are not free to simply choose where they wish to be.”

  Taking a seat in the leather chair across from me, he shakes his head in a rather pious manner. “Dracopraesi do not simply choose where we wish to be, Corrin, of that you are well aware. We go where our destinies lead us, and follow what paths the Goddess deems necessary and appropriate.”

  “Yet your cowardly brothers chose slipping off during the night while I remained occupied in my office. Had I chosen to return home at some point last night, what would you have done then? How would you have explained their absence, Oliver? Did you not think this warranted informing me?”

  A low growl precedes his reply, and I clench one fist at my side, infuriated by the outright disrespect. “Despite any misconceptions you may have, Corrin, your rule as king does not extend to include the Dracopraesi. We do not live under your law. To be quite frank, we are stronger, wiser, and will still exist well beyond the time you return to dust.”

  As Father says, the finite cannot stand above the infinite, yet for so long these four brothers of Pendragon protected my family, protected me. I cannot find this easily agreeable. “What of you, Oliver? Will you leave me as well?”

  “I remain true to my destiny, just as I always will, Corrin. It is not a matter with which you must concern yourself.” His matter-of-fact tone leaves no room for questions or arguments. “I believe the greater concern of the moment is the situation with Lady Hayden. Perhaps it is time you consider another woman in which to invest your interests.” He turns his attention to the Sky Book tablet in his hand. “Last night, I compiled a file of potential women, all eligible high-society humans who attended the gala. You should take a moment to review. I’m sending it now.”

  Not remotely interested, I pick up my tablet, skimming through the file full of photos, brief biographical information, ancestry, and financial summaries. “None of these are suitable.” Tossing my Sky Book aside, I stand, slamming my hands on the walnut desk, glaring down at my dragon. “I want Cait Hayden, and I will have her.”

  Frowning, he looks down at my hands, firmly planted on the desktop. “I believe with absolute certainty you will have Jennifer order you a new desk.” Glancing at the two handprints smashed into the wood surface, cracks spreading out from them, I pull away and walk to the windows, turning my back on him. “Otherwise, I cannot tell you what the future holds, Corrin. You have refused to heed my advice, or anyone else’s from the onset of this situation, and thus you pay the price. How is it exactly you intend to win her heart at this point?”

  “Post security in the hallway, even when I am not home. I want her monitored. All her comings and goings, those of her security, and any additional dragons who may join her. I need to find a moment to catch her alone, to speak with Cait without the influence of others.”

  “There are two severe flaws in this logic, I fear. Firstly, Theo is not about to leave his ward unattended at any time. Secondly, he moved her back to her own home last night to improve her security,” he states quite unemotionally, yet I’m well and beyond furious.

  Picking up the nearby chair, I toss it clear across my office, crashing it into a bookcase. “You were not going to mention this.” Wounded by his betrayal, fury drives me, and whirling around, I seize the desk, flipping it onto Oliver, though the dragon bats it away as if a mere insect flew in his face, sending it crashing atop both table and sofa, landing leaned against the windows. “Are you lying to me? Are you siding with your brothers?” Enraged, I continue toward him.

  He rises to his full towering height, meeting me without hesitation or fear. “Choose to throw a childish temper tantrum if you wish, Corrin, but do not dare think you will cause me to cower, and certainly do not believe for one foolish second you will lay a hand on me in anger without suffering due consequences for your actions.”

  Stopping, lowering my hands, I do not apologize. He allowed this to come about by not preventing any of it. “What do you suggest we do now?”

  “I suggest you do something about this mess. Let me handle the rest.” With a slow, rather condescending shake of his head, Oliver turns away, leaving me alone amidst my own chaos and destruction.

  An intrusive knock at the door brings fleeting hope my dragon returns, though I cannot imagine what he might say to improve my mood, leaving me annoyed. “Enter.”

  Jennifer surveys the damage, cautious in her steps as she follows my command, joining me in the office, avoiding broken glass and splintered wood littering her path. “Your Majesty, Minister Von Yalfayr wishes to see you. Should I send him to the conference room to wait?”

  Elfin warlords care nothing for interior decorating. I find it doubtful my minister of defense concerns himself with the appearance of my office. “No. Send him in.”

&nbs
p; He wastes no time in polite formalities or any other such customs believed nonsense among his kind, walking right past my secretary upon hearing my consent, ignoring the wreck of furniture scattered across the room. “Treason stirs restless in your kingdom, Sire.”

  With youthful elfin features and ghastly pale complexion, he’s lithe in stature, the crown of his head reaching my chin—a deceptive, lethal warrior. Drastic contrast is an inherent elfin trait: frail in appearance yet combative in nature, even their hair and eyes contrast. Every one bears stark white hair and coal black irises, or raven locks with iridescent silver eyes.

  Z Von Yalfayr falls into the latter category, his regal features worn in stony expressions, icy eyes calculating the potential of any enemy, lengthy hair fine as spun silk, braided and cinched by a golden band for every battle won in his lifetime. Z wears nineteen.

  I heed his warnings without question.

  “Worsening troubles in the Celtic Territory?” Concern grows daily regarding civil uprisings my uncle traveled to take into hand on my behalf.

  “Far closer to home. Do you not consider it quite worrisome seeing dragons converging around the girl? Given Dante is in the middle of them, I myself see considerable reason to plot a course of action, Sire.” He stares at me, unmoving, impatient, expectant.

  “You believe she is a threat? She is human, as you said yourself. A girl. What could she possibly do?”

  “Cynical as I am regarding the ancient Oracle tales, prophecies, and destinies, yours came to be, lending to the possibility others may hold some measure of truth to them.”

 

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