Night's Blaze

by Donna Grant

  Ryder said, “Now we know how he got here and why Rhi was with him.”

  “Hmm,” Con said.

  Banan rested his hands on the back of the chair he’d vacated. “Is there anything else you can tell us?”

  “Yes,” Henry said. It was the most vital piece of information and he’d nearly forgotten. “Ulrik has a man who is forcing a woman to get him onto Dreagan to look for some weapon.”

  Con’s face, usually devoid of emotion, grew thunderous. “Did he say that exact word? Weapon?”

  “He did.” Henry swallowed hard at the fury suddenly filling the library. “He didn’t mention what the weapon was, who the man was, or the woman for that matter.”

  “We doona have that many women working for us who are no’ a mate,” Guy pointed out.

  Con stood. “Then it should be easy to determine who it is. I want them discovered immediately and watched.”

  “What?” Henry asked. “Wouldn’t it be better to fire them?”

  “And let Ulrik know that we’ve discovered his plan?” Con asked with a cold smile. “Nay. We’ll play his game.”

  Henry watched Con stalk from the room.

  “Well. This has gone four ways to hell,” Ryder said and got to his feet. “Glad you made it out all right, Henry.”

  Tristan was the next to stand as he nodded at Henry. “This information is verra important. Great work.”

  Ryder and Tristan walked from the library together, leaving Henry with Guy and Banan. He looked between the two Kings to see that neither appeared happy.

  “We know the bad guy is Ulrik. Shouldn’t you be happy?” he asked.

  Guy turned his face to the fire in the hearth. “You doona know what Ulrik looks like. How can you be sure?”

  “I called him by the name. It was only the second time I said it that he got so irate.”

  Banan’s head hung, his chin against his chest. “What color hair did he have?”

  “Black as pitch,” Henry answered.

  Guy’s shoulders slumped. “His eyes?”

  “Gold.”

  Banan cursed beneath his breath and spun around to pace the library once more. “We have no choice but to kill him now. Dammit, Ulrik!”

  That’s when it dawned on Henry that not all of the Kings hated Ulrik. Ulrik had been one of them, and now he was the enemy.

  “I’m sorry,” Henry said. “I didn’t realize Ulrik was a friend.”

  Guy scrubbed a hand down his face. “He was a friend to all of us. Some have forgotten that.”

  “And Con?” Henry asked.

  Banan stopped before the fire. “They were the best of friends, closer than brothers. Ulrik wants to kill Con, and Con wants to kill Ulrik. Whoever wins, it’ll tear the Kings apart.”

  * * *

  Ulrik sat for a long time after Rhys and Warrick left. He didn’t think he would see another King after his last encounter with them, but he should’ve been better prepared.

  The day had gone to shit with nothing turning out as he wanted it. It was rare when his plans didn’t fall into line, and when it happened, it put him in a foul mood.

  He set straight a painting of some chap from the sixteenth century and growled when he saw the frame cracked in the corner from his encounter with Rhys and his shadows. The fact Kings continued to come to his store was not a good sign.

  The more they meddled, the longer it was going to take for his schemes to happen. Yet he couldn’t leave. The moment he didn’t appear to be at The Silver Dragon, Con would search for him. That time would come, but it wasn’t now. Soon, so very soon Constantine would get what was coming to him.

  Ulrik was finishing straightening the store when the bell chimed above the door at the same instant as an image of an attractive woman with blue eyes and light brown hair cut to her jawline filled his head.

  “Abby,” Ulrik said as he faced her.

  She smiled and closed the umbrella, adjusting the strap on her shoulder holding the briefcase. “Hello, sir,” she replied in the perfected British accent he required she use. She looked around the shop, standing straight in her black pencil skirt and soft pink sweater. “Is now a bad time?”

  “No’ at all. Come to the back, and we’ll go over everything.”

  He waited until she walked around to the back, and then he locked the door and followed. Abby was never late. She arrived precisely on time, every time. Ulrik found her punctuality refreshing. She didn’t ask any more of him than he offered, though she let it be known she was interested in taking him to her bed.

  For the last ten years, Ulrik had kept from giving in to that particular desire, but Abby was a very desirable woman. And he had needs.

  She lifted her blue eyes to him after she sat. “As usual, everything is playing out just as you said it would.”

  Ulrik nodded in response. For all of Abby’s attributes, she knew only a quarter of his plans. Trust wasn’t something he gave. Ever. It had been a hard lesson, but Constantine taught it well.

  “Good. And the shipment from Russia?”

  Abby flipped open the briefcase and pulled out a manila folder. She scanned the pages. “The Astron has put into port in Norway right on schedule. They’ll take on your additional cargo there before heading to London.”

  “That’s good news. Go ahead with your other reports now.”

  Abby went through them one at a time, naming who was showing leadership and who was weakening. Ulrik could have no weak links in his plan.

  It was an hour later before Abby finished. She finished putting away the folders in the briefcase. “Do you have any orders for me?”

  “No’ today. I’ll be taking care of a few issues over the next day or so. I expect you back two days from now.”

  “Yes, sir,” she said with a nod and stood.

  Ulrik rose with her. When she started to grab her things, he put a hand on her arm to stop her. Their gazes met. He weighed her interest, glancing down to her cleavage visible in the curved neck of the sweater.

  Her eyes widened a fraction, her breath hitching. It was all the indication he needed. After the day of disappointments, he needed to ease his body. Ulrik turned and shoved her against the wall, roughly taking her lips as she clawed at his clothes to remove them. He had no such desires.

  He yanked up her skirt, shoving aside her panties to feel her wetness. In no time at all he had his pants undone and his cock free. Holding one of her legs up, he plunged inside her. She screamed, her nails digging into his back as she kissed him like there was no tomorrow.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  On the lift up to Lily’s room, she and Rhys stood in the back while a group piled on with them. Rhys looked down at her while she watched everyone else.

  Lily’s eyes were so full of … eagerness that Rhys found himself watching her to see the play of emotions on her face. There were times she hid her feelings well, but others when she wore them on her sleeve for the world to see.

  Tonight, they were visible, and he was glad. One by one the other occupants reached their floors. When the lift arrived at her floor, Lily glanced at him and walked out when the doors opened. Rhys followed, appreciating the sway of her hips—and thankful for the dress that no longer hid all of her beautiful curves.

  It wasn’t until the door shut behind him in her suite that she laughed. “Shall we resume our conversation now?”

  Rhys wanted to continue his perusal of her—with her clothes off. Desire ran thick and hot in his veins. It was a mistake to think he could be alone with her in her room. He’d nearly taken her last night on the trail. There was no one to interrupt them in her suite, no one to stop him from marking her as his.

  “Rhys?” she called his name, a small frown marring her face.

  He looked beyond her to the living room and the numerous bags that filled the space. She followed his gaze and groaned aloud.

  “I can’t imagine what this looks like. I haven’t done anything like this in years,” she said while shoving aside bags so they could s
it on the sofa.

  Rhys stopped her and gave her a little push so she sat. He walked to the bar area and claimed a stool. The broader the distance the better if he was going to have to think and carry a conversation. “Forget the clothes. Let’s continue where we were below.”

  “All right.” She sat back on the sofa and crossed one leg over the other after she kicked off her heels. “Tell me something about yourself.”

  “I have enemies.”

  Her gaze lowered to the half-empty glass of champagne in her hand. “So do I.”

  Now that wasn’t something he had expected her to say. “What do you fear?”

  “Not finding my courage when I need it.”

  Once more he was taken aback by her words. “Why would you need courage?”

  “My enemy, remember,” she said with a wink. But the truth was there in her words. “Your turn.”

  Rhys wanted to ask her so many more questions, but he’d begun this game. “I fear that I willna gain back part of myself that I’ve lost.”

  “Hmm,” she said with a nod as she drank. “I can relate. What do you hope for?”

  “To vanquish my enemies.”

  “I want to be free.” Her voice was full of wistfulness.

  He thought over his next question for a moment, then asked, “If you could be anywhere, where would you be?”

  “Here. With you. You?”

  He stared into her eyes, his balls tightening with need. “Right here.”

  “Tell me something you’ve never told anyone else, a secret we would share between us.”

  Rhys set aside his warm champagne. He couldn’t tell her his biggest secret—that he was really a dragon. But he wished he could. “That I’ll fail those who need me most.”

  “My given name is Lilliana Eleanor Ross, the Earl and Countess of Carlisle’s third daughter.”

  “You’re nobility?” he asked in shock. That certainly wasn’t something he saw coming. It explained why she wore the clothes as she did, as well as her elegance.

  Lily bowed her head of black hair and pushed the length off her shoulder. “I am. The friend I saw today called me Lady Lily. I just knew Denae was going to ask about it, but she didn’t.”

  “That’s no’ her style.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “That is some secret,” Rhys said. “I feel my response was quite inadequate.”

  Lily laughed and finished off her champagne before she set it on the coffee table. “You could tell me more.”

  “My friends count on me. I … I’m no’ as I once was. I’m more focused on vengeance.”

  “You’re still there for your friends. That’s what matters.”

  Rhys glanced away, because he knew that unless he could shift, he was useless in the coming battle. But he shoved those thoughts aside as he remembered who he was with. He thought of her new tattoo and the scar Cassie mentioned seeing. Suddenly, he wanted to see the scar himself. “Show me something no one else has seen.”

  Lily held his gaze for several seconds as she swallowed nervously. Then she rose gracefully and walked to him. She turned her back to him and moved her hair. “Unzip me, please.”

  Rhys hesitated, his hands shaking at the thought of touching her bare skin. He revisited their kisses every night in his dreams. He couldn’t have her this close and not take her, but if Cassie was right and Lily was once abused, he had to let her make the first move.

  He grasped the zipper and slowly pulled it down. The neck of her dress gapped and creamy bare skin became visible. Then he saw her red bra. He swallowed, desire riding him hard.

  Lily shifted so that the dress fell from her left shoulder. Rhys saw the vertical mark that ran over four inches from her shoulder down her back, spanning about an inch wide. The scar was leathery, indicating it was a burn.

  Fury, deep and dark, surged. The longer Rhys stared at the wound, the more he wanted to find the bastard and envelop him in dragon fire. Nothing burned as hot as a dragon’s fire.

  Rhys ran his hand along the scar. He knew the answer, but he asked, “Who did this to you?”

  “Someone I trusted. Someone I gave my love to. A boyfriend I lived with.”

  Rhys was about to zip up her dress when he spotted something else on her back. He gently moved aside the dress from her right shoulder and saw more scars. They were thin, white, indicating they were older.

  His hands shook from the ferocity of his wrath. “He did all of this?”

  “Yes.”

  “With what?”

  Lily took a deep breath. “The largest scar was from a fire poker. The others were from whatever was in reach. Sometimes his pocket knife, sometimes his cigarettes.”

  Rhys finished unzipping her dress and got the full view of her back. It was riddled with scars. Some burns, as she said from the ends of a cigarette, and others cuts.

  “Only your back?” he asked around the emotion thickening his throat. He couldn’t understand why someone would want to hurt a person as sweet and beautiful as Lily.

  Lily stepped away before she faced him. She let the dress drop. “He made sure never to hurt me where others could see.”

  In all his eons of years, the only time Rhys had ever felt such outrage was when he had sent his dragons away. Now, as he looked at Lily’s stomach, as scarred as her back, he couldn’t comprehend anyone doing something so heinous.

  The amount of courage it took her to show him was staggering. When Rhys asked his question, he wasn’t sure what he would show her. Now he knew. Now there was no doubt what he would let her see.

  Rhys took off his jacket and carefully folded it to lay it across the stool next to him. Then he unbuttoned his shirt and removed it. He didn’t take his eyes from Lily’s face, so he was able to see her lips part and a look of awe fall over her face.

  Lily couldn’t stop herself from closing the distance and putting her hands on such an amazing piece of artwork. The dragon, a curious mix of black and red ink, was intricate, the shading masterful.

  She was mesmerized by the tattoo, running the pads of her fingers along it. The head of the dragon was on Rhys’s right pec. The body of the dragon stretched across Rhys’s impressive chest almost as if it were lying down with its wings tucked. The tail however, went over Rhys’s left shoulder and then wrapped around his left arm, stopping at his elbow. The planning and drawing of such art must have taken months, not to mention the time it took to get the tattoo.

  Lily lifted her gaze to Rhys’s blue eyes. “This is … I don’t have adequate words. I’ve never seen such beautifully elegant, and yet fiercely intense work. Still, I can’t be the only one to see this.”

  Though she hated to admit it, Lily knew Rhys had bedded other women. They had to have seen the tattoo.

  “I doona willingly show this.”

  “Why?” she asked in disbelief. “It’s gorgeous.”

  Rhys shrugged. “I have my reasons. When I take a woman to my bed, it’s either too dark for her to see, or I take her from behind.”

  Lily returned her gaze to the dragon, but that’s not what she saw. She indulged herself in the perfection that was Rhys. Hard sinew, flawless and impeccably shaped, warmed beneath her palms from his thick shoulders to the washboard stomach to his narrow waist.

  She slid her hand along the bulging muscles of his arm where the dragon tail was and imagined those arms around her, holding her close. Not so long ago that dream had been reality. It was a fleeting moment in time, but it was branded upon her mind for all eternity.

  “If others have seen this, it wasna because I wanted to show it,” Rhys said in a low voice.

  “This art was meant to be seen. Why would you get this and then hide it?” she asked and tilted her head back to look at him.

  Rhys’s chest expanded as he drew in a breath. “It’s … complicated.”

  “I show you scars. You show me beauty.”

  “Those scars are part of you. They tell a story of your courage and strength.”

  Lily
felt her eyes sting with unshed tears. “It took me years to get up the nerve to leave him.”

  “But leave him you did.”

  “Yes.” If only she’d found someone like Rhys—no, if only she’d found Rhys—instead of Dennis, how different her life would be. “I walked away from my family for him.”

  “Focus on the part where you left him.”

  It was good advice, because the last person Lily wanted to think about being so close to Rhys was Dennis. The bastard had no place in her life in any way, shape, or form.

  Rhys’s gaze intensified as he stared down at her. “It takes a special kind of bravery to do what you’ve done.”

  “If I was as strong as you think, I’d take what I really want.”

  “Which is?”

  As soon as the words left his mouth, she rose up and placed her lips on his. Lily wasn’t sure where such daring came from. Perhaps it was standing in her bra and panties after allowing him to see the ugliness of her body. Perhaps it was how gently he ran his fingers over her scars, causing her eyes to fill with tears. Because how could anyone look at or touch her and feel passion?

  Perhaps it was because he showed her his tat.

  Regardless, she wanted another kiss, and she wasn’t going to let the night end without it.

  Lily began to pull away when Rhys wrapped an arm around her, bringing her close. He rested his forehead against hers while he let his fingers trail lightly down her arm.

  “I’ve been craving that all night,” he whispered.

  Chills raced over Lily’s skin. She slid her arms around his neck, shivering when his caress traced down her side to her hip and around to her buttocks. Her breath was coming rapidly, her body heating from the need coiling within her. She sucked in a breath when he cupped her ass and pulled her against the hardness of his arousal.

  Rhys’s other hand shifted upward, delving into her hair. “Doona tease, sweet Lily.”

  Lily realized then that he was letting her take the lead. A man who was always in charge was giving her the reins. She knew it was because of her past, but that didn’t matter. The simple fact that he was thinking of her when no one else had made her breath catch.

  Rhys was able to reach into her very soul in one instant and repair the years of damage Dennis had wrought. If there was any doubt in her mind that Rhys was unique and exceptional, it was gone now.