Kidnapped by the Dragon

by Kayla Wolf

  Angela swallowed hard, hardly daring to speak. Stephen had never shared this with her. He so rarely referred to his lost wife that even a vague allusion to her loss was significant. The old dragon continued, his voice steady as a rock.

  ”To spare my son what I suffered, I knew I had to find a way to share our long lifespan with Lisa. It was a formidable project, but an important one. It brought me out of myself—gave me something to look forward to, finally, after years of complete desolation. I had a purpose again. I didn’t think that was possible after I lost—” He hesitated, just for a second, and Angela held her breath. Was he going to speak her name? But no—his eyes flickered and he looked down. “After I lost her. And then, not long after, you and your sister came to live with us. And my project was all the more crucial.”

  She took a deep breath. “This whole project—it’s all—“

  ”To extend your lifespan, and your sister’s, if we can. And Lisa, and Art. Yes.” He smiled a little. “I thought a sharp girl like you might have figured that out.”

  ”I just thought… you liked old books,” she admitted, feeling silly. He laughed—a very rare sound.

  ”I do like old books. But I like our strange little family more. And I refuse to let my children go through what I went through—to watch their mates wither and die, while they stand by powerlessly.”

  She took a deep breath. Angela had been fiercely curious about the death of the Queen before Alexander since she’d met them—but it was understood that the subject of the Queen was unimaginably painful for Stephen. Her death was an anomaly, from what Angela been able to gather, though she’d been unable to learn any further details—dragons simply did not outlive their soulmates. But at the same time, she knew that to heal, he needed to speak about his loss. They’d learned that from Art, who still struggled to talk about his lost family. So while she didn’t want to pry, this was the best opportunity she’d ever encountered to ask the question that had been burning on her mind for five years.

  ”Is that what happened?” she said, as softly as she could. “To Reagan?”

  His face didn’t move, but she could have sworn the light in his eyes dimmed. There was a long silence before he spoke, a silence she couldn’t bring herself to break—she was frightened he was going to scold her or yell at her, or worse, leave and never return. Finally, he spoke in a voice she’d never heard him use before.

  “Yes.”

  They read in silence for the rest of the afternoon. Finally, Stephen got to his feet, stretching, and headed for the doorway. She hesitated before following him. They stood in the hallway for a long moment—she had no idea what to say. But Stephen reached out and touched her shoulder, very lightly, his golden eyes meeting hers for the first time since she’d spoken his soulmate’s name.

  ”Same time tomorrow?”

  Angela almost collapsed with relief—but she just nodded, holding his gaze. “Same time tomorrow.”

  Her heart was pounding as she walked up the corridor towards her quarters—reeling from what she’d learned, she almost didn’t notice that she was about to crash directly into Owen, the man she’d been worrying about for most of the day. She gasped, dropping the books she was carrying, then dove to collect them, feeling silly. He was looking at her, something strange in his face. Something oddly hard in those flat black eyes of his.

  ”I’ve been looking for you!” she said, all her notions of playing it cool flying out the window. “Where’ve you been?”

  ”The council meeting,” he said shortly—then moved past her. She spun around, frowning.

  ”Owen?”

  ”Yes?” He turned, those cold eyes on hers. Friendly, but distant. As though she was a polite acquaintance and not the woman he’d spent a passionate night with before. And something in those eyes… something behind those eyes. She took a step closer to him, squinting, trying to read his face. There was something there—something like fear, or pain, or grief—something... “Stop it,” he said firmly, turning away from her.

  ”What’s wrong? Did I do something—”

  ”You didn’t do anything,” he said, and something cracked in his voice. “It’s just better if we keep our distance. That’s all.”

  She stared at him, not understanding—but feeling anger beginning to build in her chest. “Seriously? This is how you’re going to treat me?”

  A flicker behind the icy wall of his eyes. She stepped closer again, getting in his face, feeling the warmth of his body—and he took a few steps back, almost staggering, a look of actual fear in his eyes. Why on earth would he be afraid of her? “I’m sorry,” he said—and with that, he turned and walked away, his head low, every line of his body emphasizing how little he wanted to do with her.

  She stared after him for a long moment, unable to think, unable to breathe. What the hell had that been all about? Why had he seemed so—so sad, so afraid? It just didn’t make sense. If all he’d wanted her for was sex, why had he looked so frightened, so worried, so anguished about cutting her off? There was something else going on, she just knew it. She could sense it. Her gut told her he wasn’t a bad guy—and even though the world seemed to be providing her plenty of evidence to the contrary, that instinct just wouldn’t die. Something was going on here. Something she didn’t understand, something bigger than her, maybe even bigger than Owen. And whatever it was… well, he clearly didn’t want her help with it. She ground her teeth, lengthening her stride as she walked blindly through the corridors of the palace. There was just so much she didn’t know—so much Owen clearly didn’t want to tell her. She needed to talk to someone. Stephen would have been her first choice… but he clearly had enough going on at the moment. She didn’t want to bother him. Helena? Maybe—

  ”Watch out!”

  Angela nearly crashed headlong into the woman who’d been rounding the corner, and she staggered back, apologizing reflexively as she looked up into a pair of bright blue eyes. Blue? Not a common color, around here. Nor was the bright shock of red hair that fell like a waterfall down around the woman’s elegant face.

  ”Amara, hey. Sorry, I was a million miles away—”

  ”Well hello there, little wolf.” Amara smiled at her. “No harm done.”

  ”You’re here for the council meeting? Not your aunt?” Angela was surprised. Usually, it was Amara’s aunt who attended on behalf of their family—the domineering woman always had the loudest voice in the room. Amara shook her head.

  ”She wants me to start taking a more active role in the political life of the valley, apparently,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Look what she gave me.” In her hands was a thick stack of papers—Angela looked down at it, her eyes widening.

  ”Notes?”

  ”Questions. I am to take a more active role, you see, but only by doing and saying exactly what she’d do and say if she were here with me.”

  Angela couldn’t help but laugh. Amara’s aunt Mary was quite the character. But as the elder dragons of the valley went, she was one of the better ones. Blustery, yes, and very self-important—but she had a kind heart.

  ”How’d the meeting go?”

  ”Oh, fine, I think. Met your visitor.” Amara’s eyes gleamed. “Handsome fellow. Fascinating eyes.”

  Angela’s heart sank. She just couldn’t get away from the guy, could she? “Yeah, Owen’s cool. Hey, d’you want a cup of tea or something? I haven’t seen you since the ball.”

  ”Tea sounds delightful,” Amara said, taking Angela’s arm in a quaint gesture that was nevertheless typical of the elegant dragoness. Amara was a lot younger than the other dragons, from what Angela had been able to gather—in that she’d only just entered the triple digits. It was strange, how spending time around dragons distorted your perception of age. A century being ‘young’ was only the start of the strangeness. But maybe as a result of their relative closeness in age, Angela had always felt oddly fond of the blue-eyed dragoness from across the valley… even if it had taken a little while for her to warm up to her
and her sister. There was a lot of bad blood between wolves and dragons. But for a dragon, she’d gotten used to wolves pretty quickly. It wasn’t every dragon in the valley that Angela considered a friend, after all.

  There was still some tension between Amara and her sister Jessica, unfortunately. Samuel had let slip that he’d once vaguely entertained the notion of dating the dragoness (well before he’d met Jessica, he hastened to add.) Ever since, Jessica—not usually a jealous woman—had had nothing but criticism for Amara. Angela couldn’t figure out how much of it was tongue-in-cheek and how much of it was serious jealousy, but she didn’t much care to find out. It was easy enough to keep them away from each other, at least.

  They made tea in the little kitchen. It was much easier with an electric stove—Angela reflected on how grateful she was for that little innovation as she waited for the water to boil. “Where is everyone?”

  ”Home, I think. There was talk of a bit of a meet-and-greet with Owen, but apparently, he was feeling a little under the weather. Stormed off as soon as the council meeting was over. Weird.” Amara shrugged. “Handsome, though. You can get away with a lot if you’re good looking. Can’t wait to see his dragon form.”

  Angela hesitated to respond to that. She knew Amara was very sensitive when it came to her own dragon form… though she was as beautiful and imposing as any of the other dragons Angela had seen in that form, Angela knew from the gossip that flew around the valley that Amara couldn’t fly. She had wings like all the other dragons, of course—but they wouldn’t support her in the air. Nobody knew why—and nobody was brave enough to ask Amara or her domineering aunt.

  ”What did the council say about Owen? Is he allowed to stay?” Angela had been worried about this—the Council would have the final say about whether Owen would be invited to remain with them indefinitely. Alexander could make a case, and technically as King the final say was his, but in the end, it would be political suicide to go against the wishes of the Council. Especially when diplomatic relations were already on such thin ice.

  ”They loved him. He’s in. I guess after Art, a dragon’s an easy sell, even one from the west coast,” Amara laughed, settling down at a table in the little kitchen.

  ”Did William come?”

  ”Nope,” Amara said shortly. “No representative from that family at all.”

  ”Crap. Are they ever going to stop freezing us out?”

  ”You don’t know dragons,” Amara said grimly. “It’s been, what—three years since Art moved in? William’s just getting started with his cold spell. But don’t worry,” she added, seeing Angela’s frown. “He’s all hot air. Mom says he’s always been like this. He won’t actually—you know, do anything. It’s just a tantrum. It’ll last decades, but it’s still just a tantrum.”

  Angela sighed, pouring them each a mug of tea. “I hope so.”

  ”So I heard you’re the one who found our new friend,” Amara said, her ice-blue eyes gleaming. “Out in the wilds.”

  ”Yeah, he just—turned up.” Angela said evasively. She didn’t want to talk about Owen—didn’t want to think about him at all. But it seemed Amara was interested in as much information as she could get about the handsome dragon. That wasn’t surprising, Angela thought to herself with a secret smile. It was no secret that Amara had had designs on Alexander before he’d gone away and met Lisa. She’d been very disappointed by the prophecy that claimed their King would find his soulmate among humans, not among the dragons of the valley. Maybe she was moving on to a new target. “Why, are you interested?”

  ”Aren’t you? Are you blind?” Angela couldn’t help but laugh.

  ”He’s okay looking, I suppose.”

  “But no, not really,” Amara said thoughtfully, surprising her. “I’m a bit tired of… jumping to conclusions about people, you know? Never tell her I said this, but my aunt was right. You’ve got to be patient when it comes to love and soulmates and all that junk.”

  ”How’d your aunt and uncle meet?” Mary’s mate was a quiet soul, in stark contrast to his chatty, bossy partner—Angela couldn’t remember actually hearing his voice when she’d been introduced to him.

  ”Oh, the boring old-fashioned way,” Amara said irritably. “A billion years ago, eye contact, instant passion, marriage, the end. But that doesn’t seem to happen any more. The world’s changing, I guess. I blame Lisa,” she said, only a little bit of venom in her voice. Angela grinned. Amara and Lisa had had some tension in the early days. Amara had rather famously refused to acknowledge the human as Alexander’s mate, still clinging to her designs on the King. But eventually, she’d given in and apologized. Things were still strained between her and Lisa—and between her and Jessica, for that matter. But they were mending. And at least it gave the gossipy dragons of the valley something to talk about.

  ”You haven’t given up on love, have you? I know you thought Alexander…”

  ”Oh, that was political, not romantic. I never, you know, got the soulmate feeling about him, not really. My Prince Charming’s out there, I’m sure. But I can be patient.”

  ”Maybe it’s Owen,” Angela suggested, trying to keep her voice light and noncommittal—but the sharp look Amara flicked her showed that she hadn’t been successful.

  “Every time you say his name you look down, you know that, right? C’mon. We haven’t known each other that long, but I’m not completely oblivious. Something’s up. Tell your Aunty Amara.”

  Angela rolled her eyes. “Aunty?”

  ”I’m very old,” Amara said with dignity, “it’s only fitting. Would you prefer Great Aunt? Spill.”

  ”I don’t know, it’s just a dumb crush,” she admitted—then giggled at the way Amara gasped and dramatically leaned in.

  ”A what! The icy wolf princess, finally falling in love?”

  ”Don’t. It’s not—like that. I mean …” She shut her eyes briefly. “I mean, we—last night—”

  Amara’s blue eyes seemed to take up her entire face. “You what! He’s been here for what, a few days? You move fast, wolf pup.”

  ”Yeah, well. He doesn’t. It seems like he’s … freezing me out, or something. We got on so well when he first got here. But ever since we slept together, he just… went cold.”

  ”Bastard,” Amara said flatly. “You should’ve told me, I’d have voted him out.”

  Angela couldn’t help but laugh at that. It felt good, to have someone on her side in all this. “I get the feeling it’s not his fault. Like there’s something else going on with him, you know? Something I don’t know about, something he can’t tell me. But—I think he wants to. I think he’s scared of whatever it is.”

  ”Emotional honesty? Men tend to be pretty frightened of that,” Amara said brightly. But her expression softened when Angela looked at her. “Sorry. I wish I could help more, babe. You seem to really like him.”

  ”Yeah,” Angela sighed. “I do. Ever since we met, it’s like… I mean, I never really got many crushes before, so I don’t have much to go on, but this is…. I really like him.”

  Amara looked thoughtful. “Could he be your soulmate? I mean, I don’t know how it is for wolves, but… I don’t know, that seems like a lot for you. You’re not exactly an emotional girl.”

  It was true, Angela had to admit. The feelings she’d developed for Owen had hit her so fast, and so hard it had almost made her dizzy. But—wasn’t that what it was like for everyone who met a handsome guy?

  “If he was my soulmate, he’d want me too, right?” That was the sticking point. She could dream all she liked, but if Owen wasn’t interested in being with her—which he’d made pretty clear earlier—then what was the point in entertaining the soulmate idea? There was only pain down that road, she could sense it.

  Amara sighed. “I don’t know, babe. I’m not exactly an authority, hey? But—well, he did seem really distracted during the meeting. Maybe he was thinking about you.”

  ”Maybe. But—I’m not going to put my whole life on hold hoping tha
t he’ll decide he wants me after all, you know?”

  ”Good. Don’t.” Amara sipped her tea, looking thoughtful. “Man, when’s some handsome guy going to swing by and make me feel complicated feelings? I’m bored, Angela. Do you know any eligible gentlemen? They don’t even have to be dragons, at this point.”

  She couldn’t help but giggle, despite her chaotic thoughts about Owen. “I mean, you could always try what Alexander did.”

  ”Go to New York and nearly get killed by a wolf pack? No thanks.”

  ”Worked for Samuel, too.”

  Amara shuddered delicately. “I think I’ll wait. Patience is a virtue, after all.” She looked thoughtful. “Still… it might be nice to see a bit more of the world than this little valley, nice as it is.”

  They hugged goodbye when they’d finished their tea, and Angela watched the dragoness go, smiling a little. She wasn’t any closer to figuring out what to do about Owen… but still, it had felt good to talk it out. Patience. That was a useful lesson to take from all of this. Time healed all wounds. Maybe if she was patient and let Owen work through whatever tangled thoughts he was dealing with, things would work out in the end. It was as good a plan as any.

  But the worry kept gnawing at her, long into the night. What was he hiding from her? What piece of this tangled little puzzle was she missing?

  Chapter 9

  He almost blew his cover completely during the council meeting with all the other families from the valley. It should have been a walk in the park. The dragons from this family—the royal family—they all liked him just fine. He’d talked politics with Alexander, gone running with Samuel, had a long conversation about long-distance flights with Helena… Stephen was another question entirely. He’d decided not to think too much about Stephen—he just needed to give him time. Older dragons took a while to get warmed up to people. He should know. Jessica liked him, Lisa liked him, Art… well, he didn’t know whether Art liked him. Bears were hard to read, and Art had made himself pretty scarce since Owen had moved in. But he had no reason to suspect he disliked him. The family was more than willing for him to stay—all he needed to do was charm the council members. But there he stood, like a mute statue, hardly able to string a sentence together.