Dragon's Tears (City Dragons Book 3)

by Lisa Oliver

Byron noticed Petrov leaning on the plane’s door frame and pulled Ivak to a stop before they got there. “I did understand what you called me,” he murmured, knowing Petrov’s hearing was better than most. “Russian is one of eight languages I speak fluently.”

  “And the name was meant with all that I am.” Ivak’s hands were cold on Byron’s neck, his eyes like chips of ice. “For someone who believes actions speak louder than words, this is difficult for me to say. My distancing habits come from a lifetime of never letting anyone get close – frankly, I trusted few. But I trust you, so the next time you mention you want a kiss and even a blow job before breakfast, I will deliver, rather than attempt to justify my boorish actions. I will learn to change what I do around you, but as I do, trust that my words are my bond – with you.”

  “I get it.” Byron slung his arms around Ivak’s neck, whispering close to his ear, “And I want all the romantic stuff with you, too.”

  “Oh gods,” Ivak teased. “Flowers? Chocolates? Jewelry and romantic dinners for two over a candlelit table?”

  “All of the above as well as massages, deep bubble baths we share until our skin is wrinkled, lazy mornings with the paper, or watching the television and movie nights that last for hours.”

  “I fear I’m about to become domesticated.” Ivak laughed as he escorted his mate to the plane and boosted Byron into it. Petrov had gone back to his seat. “Buckle up people. This is going to be a bumpy start.”

  /~/~/~/~/

  “Excuse me? You’re telling me a Hollingsworth doesn’t sneak, ever?” Ivak resisted the urge to smile. The plane had landed for a second time, this time on a small and rarely manned airstrip just a mile from the Ice Dragon King’s estate. Ivak, Byron and Petrov were going over plans to get into the castle – Ivak’s idea being to confront his cousin away from the king and then refuse the position of heir in person with his father. Which meant getting into the King’s estate unseen.

  Byron didn’t seem to see things the same way. “You said yourself. It is time to claim who you are. As heir apparent, you’ll have far more political power than you do now, and an increased ability to ruin your cousin, his businesses, and his horde. An effective punishment for any dragon shifter, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “You want me to be the next king?”

  “Heir apparent,” Byron shook his finger. “Big difference. Babe, whether you end up being king or not, is entirely up to you. I imagine ice dragons have similar rules to other dragon clans, meaning if you became king, then somewhere along the way, you’d be expected to have an heir of your own.”

  Ivak shuddered and Petrov laughed.

  “The thing is, as heir apparent, you will have power,” Byron was getting quite persuasive. Petrov was paying attention, Ivak noticed. “Power you can use to destroy your cousin in such a way, he never sees it coming.”

  “We’d also have a giant target on our backs. Did you forget my dead half siblings? And they were full dragons. The ice dragon court would never accept a half breed as the next king.”

  Byron raised his finger again. “Your half siblings, I assume, were raised at court. They were younger than you and I doubt any of them had assassin training.”

  “True. But if the paranormal council hear I’m visible in the ice dragon’s court, they’re likely to turn up in force to arrest me.”

  “Or not.” Byron’s lips twitched. “I can take care of your council problem. Does this plane have a phone that will work out in this wilderness?”

  Petrov handed him the satellite handset. Ivak didn’t stint himself on essential equipment.

  Tapping in a number he clearly knew by heart, Byron leaned back in his chair. “Loren, it’s Byron Hollingsworth. How are you this lovely day?... lovely to hear. Can you be an angel and put me through to Council Elder Crowcroft? I have a small personal matter I need his advice on… thank you. I’ll hold.”

  “Crowcroft?” Ivak mouthed, glancing across at his brother, his eyes wide. Crowcroft was the highest power in any paranormal circle. Ivak had only met him once.

  “Albert,” Byron sounded like he was talking to any old boy he’d met at a gentleman’s club. “I’m good, yourself?... Ah ha, and that daughter of yours? Is she still running rings around that mate of hers?... Lovely to hear, so glad. Look Albert, I thought I’d better give you a call, I recently found my true mate… Thank you, yes, I do plan on registering my mating, that’s why I’m calling.”

  “Byron, you can’t.” Ivak hissed.

  That wretched finger Byron seemed fond of using was in the air again. “I’d never take you for a registry clerk, Albert. I know the only time you use that pen of yours is when you want to scratch your back,” Byron chuckled. “No, no, it’s just, you remember my brother in law, Jon...? That’s right the forensic auditor. Look, he did a bit of digging on my mate when I introduced him to the family. You know how dragons can be. And yes, it seems you think my mate has committed some sort of crime. So, you can see my concern… yes, of course. I’m proudly true mated to Prince Ivak Sellivik.”

  The angry squawk on the other end of the phone was loud enough for Ivak and Petrov to hear. Byron smiled as he listened, even winking at Ivak as Ivak got more and more concerned. Apparently, good old Albert had a lot to say about Byron’s mate. But apart from nodding, and making affirmative noises every now and then, Byron just listened.

  “Hmm, you’re right, Albert,” Byron said at last when Albert had clearly wound down. “That would be a very serious charge if it was true, but you forget, you and I have chatted before about your ninja operations and frankly, I’m failing to see how my mate is at fault. Your operatives never have knowledge of a target until it is given to them by a handler. They are given a name, a place where the target will be and a time frame for them to complete the job, did I get that right?”

  There’s a lot about my mate I didn’t know, Ivak thought as he watched Byron’s listening face.

  Albert was clearly on a rant, and through it all, Byron never let his composure falter. “I agree,” he said at last. “But there are two fatal flaws in your argument that I’m sure you don’t need me to lay out for you… haha, yes, okay, you know I have an analytical brain and no, I’m not going to apologize for it. But if what the handler said is true, and between you and me we only have her word for it, and my adorable mate shot the wrong man, then I’m failing to see how that is possible… yes, yes, I get that the target had a twin… ah ha, but how could both men have been in the same place if the twin was already in council custody?”

  “What?” Ivak hissed. Byron waved at him to be quiet.

  “Albert, that’s exactly what I am telling you,” Byron said calmly. “I know, us dragons are super supportive of our mates, but you and I are old friends and I wouldn’t steer you wrong. Jon did a thorough investigation and I trust him implicitly as I know you do too. Didn’t Jon complete the audit on the council expense accounts just two months ago?”

  My mate has got some serious connections. Ivak’s cock decided to make its presence known – there was something seriously sexy about Byron’s command of the conversation. Ivak shifted in his seat, trying to get comfortable.

  “The dates don’t lie, Albert,” Byron continued. “The fact remains my unsuspecting mate was given the wrong name, date, time and place to eliminate a suspect you had under council guard at the time, by his handler. I don’t know what his handler had against the poor innocent that was killed by my efficient mate but you can see how this looks to me and my clan… Exactly, it is a set up, and with the Ice Dragon King looking to reunite with his son and confirm my mate as his heir… Now, you’re getting the idea. This mess could become a major international incident if it’s not handled correctly.”

  Then Byron chuckled. “My brother in law has all the information, Albert. If you call Dirk, I’m sure he’ll be happy to pass it along. But between you and me, we do have evidence that my mate’s handler is not only working for the council, if you get what I mean… yes… yes, political intrigue and
someone not wanting my mate to get his inheritance. We have proof… yes… so, I can count on you to handle this discretely? Ah ha… Exactly, and you can be assured our clan will throw all of its considerable resources and influence behind this ensuring my mate isn’t bothered by this again.”

  He chuckled again. “I would never threaten you or the council, Albert. You and I have been friends a very long time. But now Ivak is wearing my mark, I’ll fight hell on earth, or the council if necessary, to ensure his safety, as will the rest of my clan. Look into that handler far more closely and speak to Dirk. I’m sure you’ll have this matter handled in no time… thank you… yes, I will, and I’ll catch up with you soon. It’s been too long since I beat you at chess… you too… goodbye.”

  Clicking the button, Byron disconnected the call and handed the phone back to Petrov. “Now, what were you saying about having to sneak into your father’s castle?”

  “Byron. Mate.” Ivak looked up at the ceiling, shaking his head. “You, you, you make me so damn horny. Problem with the council – my mate just calls up the biggest boss in paranormal history and bam, it’s gone. Fuck, if there was a bed on this damn plane, I’d claim you all over again.” He looked back at his mate. “Thank you. That was damn smooth. So, what’s all this about wanting me to become the heir? How do you think we should go about it?”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Contrary to its name, the castle of the Ice Dragon King was warm, inviting, and comfortable, on the inside. Outside, snow drifts piled high against the walls, and the wind chill was well below zero. Byron was pleased his use of Ivak’s powers extended to zapping himself up a calf-length thick coat from his wardrobe in the States.

  There was a delay – after talking to Dirk, Byron agreed that a party of enforcers would help cement Ivak’s position as someone important and who valued his worth. Four hours later, Dirk’s own plane arrived on the small runway, complete with six European clan enforcers and a huge hamper of food. In the meantime, Byron had managed to source three Hummer Limousines through a government contact he had in Moscow; it wouldn’t do their image any good arriving at the palace on foot. Darkness had fallen hours before, and Byron hoped there was a warm bed, and a glass of booze in his future.

  Ivak had been uncharacteristically quiet after the enforcers arrived, all in their smart uniforms, with the Hollingsworth clan crest emblazoned on their backs. Leaving Petrov to organize the enforcers into the vehicles, Byron tugged Ivak into the middle one, and shut the door. Ensuring the privacy screen was closed between them and the driver, Byron moved Ivak to face him, and then rested his forehead on his mate’s.

  “Let me in,” he whispered, tapping Ivak’s temple lightly. He felt the strengthening buzz in his mind almost immediately. Now, tell me what’s wrong.

  I have nearly always worked alone. Ivak tilted his head up, his eyes guarded. This, working within a clan… having support… enforcers… being a future king… The eyelids shuttered. Too much.

  We can leave right now. Byron sent back fiercely. Take the plane, go back to the States…

  I will not have you in danger again!

  Byron thought for a moment. Would you be happier just killing your cousin?

  The opening of his eyes and the slight quirk of Ivak’s lips suggested that was a yes.

  You did tell me you’d retired, Byron reminded him. You can’t just go killing someone who upsets you…

  UPSET? The bastard abducted you.

  “Arranged to have me abducted.” Byron nodded. But if you want to play with the big boys, then you need to flex other skills apart from your killing muscles, he added silently. He wasn’t sure how effective the privacy screens were.

  Ivak’s lips tightened and his eyes narrowed. I run over two dozen companies on all levels of hierarchies, manage mergers, takeovers, and amalgamations worth billions of dollars every month.

  “My mate, that’s money,” Byron whispered quietly, leaning in and brushing a kiss on Ivak’s hardened jaw. “Political intrigue can be fascinating when done right. Messy, dirty, full of backstabbing at it’s best. Mean, horrible people all out for what they can get. Much like a court situation.”

  “Hmm… you’re talking dirty to me.” Ivak lifted his neck allowing Byron more access. “I love it. Keep going.”

  “They’ll want to seduce you, flatter you, make themselves indispensable to you, all the while, fingering the knife in their pocket.” Byron took full advantage, nibbling lightly down Ivak’s neck.

  “Then can I kill them?” Ivak tilted his head, his eyes gleaming and for a moment Byron got a glimpse of what his mate was like when he was young.

  “Killing’s too easy for them.” Byron slipped his hands under Ivak’s jacket, appreciating the hard muscles below. “Being in power means you can annihilate them. Face it, babe,” Byron kept his voice low as he nibbled up Ivak’s ear. “Killing just means a person’s dead, they don’t feel anything anymore. They are reduced to worm fodder – no pain, no worries about their status, or their possessions. But living in disgrace, stripped of everything they own, not even fit to lick your boots – so much more effective, don’t you think?”

  “You have an evil mind under that nice-boy exterior, don’t you? I love that too.” Ivak snuck a kiss, that quickly turned into a whole lot more. Byron barely noticed when the vehicle started up and moved, but he was glad the privacy screen was up as Ivak nudged his chin down towards his belt buckle.

  /~/~/~/~/

  I can do this. With or without enforcers, with Byron by my side I can face my father…

  Ivak didn’t want to. The vehicle had stopped. He knew he had to get out, but he really didn’t want to. The moment he stepped out of the vehicle his life was going to change. He felt that certainty as easily as he could feel his wolf warning him of the danger inside the castle. He had to face it, and knew he could, but in that moment, Ivak wished he was anywhere else but outside his father’s house.

  His mother, Corine, hadn’t been totally stupid when she gave up her virginity to the ice dragon king. He’d been powerful, charismatic, rich, and horny – all things that appealed to a lone wolf shifter who was trying to make it in a world that didn’t yet know paranormals existed.

  Once she became aware of Ivak’s impending birth, Corine had sent word to the castle. A month later a package arrived with money and jewels, but not the longed-for plane ticket Corine had been expecting. She had dreams of being a queen. Undeterred, Corine gave birth to Ivak in a paranormal clinic in Prague, and promptly got in touch with the ice dragon king, letting him know he now had an heir.

  There was no response. There was no response to a dozen letters and messages Corine sent to the king over the next two years. She even appealed to the paranormal council, but all she got in return was a letter from the ice dragon court. It claimed that while Ivak could be considered the king’s heir and be considered a prince in title at least, because the child was not full dragon, it was anticipated by the king, the role of heir would go to a future full dragon child he was actively seeking to breed. Corine had remained very disappointed until she met her true mate and even then, she had little time for Ivak.

  Ivak had only seen his father once. The day he reached the age of maturity, his father appeared in the middle of the footpath, in a hail of ice and snow, intercepting him on his way to a party with friends he used to have back then. That was in London. It was easy for Ivak to recognize the man – an older version of Ivak’s blond chiseled looks, the power signature from his dragon unmistakable. The conversation had been short, Ivak had been told he was now officially his father’s heir, “but don’t get used to it,” had been added as his father handed him a scroll and disappeared from his life. Considering Ivak had never tried to use his title for anything, he felt the warning unnecessary. It was later that same night he met Nikita and Ivak became Ice for a very long time.

  “You okay?” Byron rubbed his arm, breaking into his thoughts.

  “Fine.” Ivak managed a smile for his mate. �
�Just thinking about my mother. She always wanted to come here, but she was never invited.”

  “It’s probably just as well she wasn’t,” Byron said quietly. “Remember, us dragons are a very snobby lot, and from memory, ice dragons are the worst for that when it comes to looking down their noses at other species.”

  Ivak was just about to ask how Byron happened to know any ice dragons when the limousine door on the other side of his mate opened. Petrov leaned his head in and wrinkled his nose. Ivak was not in the mood to apologize for what he and his mate had been doing.

  “Sorry if I’m interrupting anything, but the king’s advisor is at the door, wanting to know the purpose of our visit.”

  “The Sentinel is here?” Byron hurried out of the vehicle, striding across the parking area, his hand already outstretched to a man Ivak didn’t recognize. Hearty slaps and hugs ensued and Ivak snarled as he climbed out more slowly – his dragon lurking under his skin.

  Finally, where we were born to be. Ivak felt the rustle of wings flutter against his chest as his dragon sent out his power, causing a few ripples of discontent among the stone-faced guards.

  “Don’t count on us staying.” Ivak stomped across the ground, his only focus was his mate.

  Byron’s smile was wide as he held out his arm, indicating Ivak to come closer. “I doubt you’ve met the Prince, David,” he said. “I’m so proud to introduce Prince Ivak Sellivik, my fated mate. Ivak, this is David Guard, known locally as the Sentinel. He’s your father’s closest adviser and someone I’ve known through business for years.”

  That’s not helping. Ivak barely smiled or nodded, a curt jolt of his head the only indication he’d heard. David was smiling as widely as Byron. “It’s true, no one here has ever met the Prince, but his identity has never been hidden. Prince Ivak, welcome to your new home. Your father was keen for you to be taken to him the moment you arrived.”

  “A private meeting, one would hope,” Byron said quickly. “None of us are dressed appropriately to face the full court, if your descriptions of it are to be believed.”