Kidnapped by the Dragon

by Kayla Wolf

  But it wasn’t enough, somehow. She pressed herself against him, impatient, her fingertips curling into the strong muscle of his shoulder blades—and then an idea occurred to her, and she grinned wickedly, curling her legs around his body and then, tugging at him, she endeavoured to reverse their positions. Once he figured out what she was trying to make him do, he nodded, tightening his great arms around her—and then, in one dizzying motion, he was lying on his back beneath her, his cock still deep inside her.

  She paused for a moment, kissed him hard, her body curled over his, still within the warm cocoon of the blanket they were under. His hands were on her hips, and she ran her own hands down his broad chest, drinking in the sight of him in the dim light that filtered through from outside—hers, all hers, and all the time in the world to do whatever she wanted to do with him. He shifted a little, impatient, rocked his hips up towards her and she gasped, her eyes fluttering shut at the sensation of this new angle.

  ”You okay?”

  ”More than okay,” she murmured, her eyes gleaming. She liked this, liked being on top… it felt good to be able to set the pace. She shifted her hips cautiously, exploring the sensation of his body, grinned at the way he groaned, arching his back in an effort to encourage her to move faster. And move faster she did, grinding her hips against him, gasping and panting at the feeling of him inside her.

  Before long, he was clutching at her hips, his powerful body arching up away from the blankets as he made love to her. She could feel that explosive feeling building in her body again, the way it had the last time they’d done this … but this time, his face wasn’t buried in her throat. This time, she could see his face, his dark eyes, wild with lust and (her heart skipped) love for her, his lips parted as he gasped for breath beneath her. Just the sight of him… she was close, incredibly close, ready to tip over the edge.

  But she held off, as long as she could, taking deep, steadying breaths to hold herself back from the brink of orgasm. Her whole body was trembling, and she could feel him beginning to shake, too, as his climax approached. Despite the desperation of their movements, the way they were both gasping for breath, she almost didn’t want this to end… wanted to stay here, in this suspended, timeless place between past and future forever, with his hands on her body and his eyes locked with hers.

  ”Angela,” Owen breathed, and she could hear the desperation rising in his voice. “I’m—I’m going to—”

  ”Not yet,” she mumbled, leaning down to kiss him. He looked at her, concern rising in his eyes.

  ”What’s wrong?”

  ”I’m—I’m scared this is the last time we’ll ever be together. The last time—”

  ”No,” he murmured, kissing her face. “Don’t—don’t think about that. Just this. Just now.”

  His hands moved across her body, distracting her—she flattened her palms against his chest. He was right. There was only now—only this, only them. They moved together in the late afternoon sunlight, bodies in perfect harmony… but it was impossible to hold off forever. And when he met her gaze, it was with none of the fear, the hiding that he’d done that first time they’d made love. It was like he was a new person—but not a new person. She’d known he was there, all along. She’d just had to wait for him to be brave enough to meet her here.

  She almost forgot to be quiet when she came—he pressed his hand over her mouth as she opened her mouth to scream, and she couldn’t help but giggle a little deliriously as they both spiraled into the afterglow of their lovemaking. She slid off his body, collapsing at his side like a deflated balloon and smiling as he pulled her sleepily into his arms. He was laughing, too, trying to muffle the sound a little, and when they both drifted into a peaceful sleep in each other’s arms, she knew that this time, at least, she wouldn’t wake up alone.

  Whatever other challenges they had left to face… they’d face them together.

  Chapter 15

  “Wolves weren’t meant to be this high up,” Angela complained, peering down over the valley from their vantage point halfway up the sheer, rocky wall of the peak. “You have led me astray.”

  ”You run too much. Rock climbing helps balance you out. Get that upper body strength.”

  ”Trust me to find the only dragon on the planet who likes climbing more than flying,” Angela grumbled, but she was smiling.

  Owen was smiling, too. He’d been doing that an unbelievable amount, lately. It felt like he’d only been living in this valley for a few minutes, but it was almost two months since he’d landed downriver and found Angela sitting on that rock. And six weeks since he’d been invited to stay for real. It had been an unbelievably tense day—and a rollercoaster for Owen, who’d started the day assuming he’d be either killed or exiled for his crimes. He’d spent that whole afternoon in his quarters with Angela, Art keeping watch outside. They’d talked for hours—he’d told her all he could about the College, but she’d made him stop when his hands started shaking. Then they’d just talked about the future—a future they weren’t sure they were going to get. After all, Alexander would have had every right to exile him, after what he’d done.

  But when the dragon king knocked on his door—he’d brought the message himself, which had surprised Owen—it had been with news that made Angela cover her mouth with her hands, then hurl herself bodily into Owen’s arms.

  ”Stephen spoke in your defense quite passionately,” Alexander said, and he could tell from the look in the man’s eyes that this had surprised him as much as it surprised Owen. Angela, too, was shocked. She stood beside him, holding his hand tightly in her own as if she was frightened that if she let him go, he might disappear. He felt the same way, if he was honest—like she was earthing him, keeping him grounded. “He emphasized the gravity of what you had done, by abandoning the College, disobeying your orders as you did.”

  Owen had simply nodded, not knowing what to say. “I’ll have to thank him,” Angela was saying breathlessly.

  ”And for me… well, your presence here may have considerable value to us.” He was gazing at him steadily. “You know a great deal more about shifter society than we do. If you accept our invitation to stay, can I count on your assistance in providing information about what’s happening out there? How to react if we’re infiltrated by any more agents from your College?”

  ”Of course,” Owen said quickly, nodding. Of course—he would be of great tactical benefit to this isolated community. He had never had access to all of the College’s intel, but when you hung around as long as he had, you tended to pick a few things up. “I’ll share all I know. All I can.”

  ”In good time,” Alexander said, waving a hand dismissively. “Stephen—and Art, for that matter—emphasized that it would be a slow process, acclimatizing to a new home, finding a new path for yourself and that you shouldn’t be rushed.”

  He nodded, almost overwhelmed with gratitude—and with shock. There he’d been, expecting exile or execution… and not only were they not going down those roads, but they were also treating him with kindness, giving consideration to his psychological wellbeing? How had he gotten so lucky?

  ”You’ll have some ground to regain with Jessica, of course,” Alexander said, looking at him seriously. “She doesn’t trust you as far as she could throw you. And it goes without saying that any sign of trouble—”

  ”Of course. Of course,” Owen said, almost babbling. “No. I’ll do everything I can to make it up to her—to you all. To Angela, especially.” He’d looked down at her, still standing at his side, her arm curled protectively around his waist, and she’d smiled up at him, her face crinkling around those luminous silver eyes, and he’d been lost in the light of that regard for longer than he knew.

  Alexander cleared his throat. “Helena defended you, too. She said she’d never seen a clearer case of soulmates. I’m not sure if you’ve discussed that particular idea, but… perhaps you should.”

  ”Alexander,” Angela said through gritted teeth—and through his sh
ock, Owen felt a pang of amusement at the sly grin he could make out in the king’s eyes. Had that been teasing, from Angela’s stoic older brother-in-law? But as quickly as he’d come, Alexander was gone… leaving Owen and Angela together, alone.

  They’d found plenty of inventive ways to pass that particular evening, that was for sure. Not much talking involved. Not until much later, at any rate.

  “What’re you thinking about?” Angela prompted now, peering at him. They were sitting on a ledge about three quarters of the way up the peak of the mountain on the opposite side of the valley to the palace, climbing gear scattered around them. Safety was important, he’d stressed, even as Angela got impatient with all the gear he was packing. She’d seemed to feel that he could just shift and catch her if she fell—he’d laughed, and double-checked all the safety lines. It would be fairly ridiculous to die in a rock-climbing accident after the life he’d lived.

  ”The day Alexander told me I could stay,” he said, smiling at her. “Or—more to the point—the night Alexander told me I could stay…”

  She giggled, a charming blush rising to her cheeks. “Oh, yeah. I remember. Back when we had separate rooms.”

  “That didn’t last long, huh?”

  They’d ‘moved in’ together, such as it was, a few days after Owen had gotten the okay to stay. It just seemed silly to keep alternating between rooms each night, and there was no way he was sleeping without her in his arms. Not after that first night, when he’d woken feeling more rested than he’d ever felt in his life. Thinking of that day now, his smile flickered a little. Not everyone had been exactly thrilled to learn that he was staying. Angela, ever perceptive, leaned in a little, swallowing the mouthful of trail mix she’d wolfed down.

  “You’re thinking about Jessica, aren’t you?”

  ”Mm.”

  ”She’s coming around. I promise. I know she’s weird and cold and stand-offish, but … well, a lot of that is just how she is. She let me come climbing with you, didn’t she? She would have kicked up a huge fuss if she still distrusted you as much as she did back then. It’s gonna take a while for you guys to be friends, but … seriously, just give her time.” Her eyes twinkled. “Besides. Lisa’s big news is going to take her mind off it.”

  ”Very good of Lisa and Alexander, giving us a distraction,” Owen said, grinning widely. It had been the talk of the palace… the reason for Lisa’s mysterious sickness and fatigue. After three months of unexplained nausea, Alexander had insisted on taking his wife to the nearest human doctor… who had quickly confirmed something they’d all believed impossible. Lisa was pregnant. By all accounts, a completely healthy and normal pregnancy… despite the father being a shifter. They’d all been shocked—and elated, Jessica most of all. Angela had mentioned how badly her older sister wanted a family… the knowledge that it may be possible for her and Samuel to conceive (despite the caution that it was early days still) had brought her a lot of joy. Not quite enough, unfortunately, to make her forgive the dragon who’d kidnapped her little sister.

  He sighed. Angela’s older sister had been the source of a lot of hostility. He deserved it, of course—he deserved infinitely worse if he was honest with himself—but still, it wore on his nerves. Especially with everything else he had to work through. “Jessica reminds me of someone I used to know,” he said now, finally giving voice to a thought that had been troubling him. “Another wolf.”

  ”Someone at the College?” Angela always went quiet and watchful when he talked about the College. She knew what a sore subject it was—knew it often set him shaking if he spent too long in memories of the place.

  ”Yeah. The same… stubbornness, the same fire.” He cleared his throat, willing himself to speak his old teacher’s name. “Tarik.” There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?

  ”I don’t know if that’s a compliment or not,” Angela said, carefully.

  ”It’s not. Well, it is, but given he was old and blind, she wouldn’t take it as a compliment. Best kept between us, I think.” Tarik hadn’t been a bad guy, in the end. That was what he was beginning to realize. No one individual at the College had been an inherently evil person… they were just doing a job, same as everyone else. Tarik’s job was to beat the hell out of his recruits, make them stronger. He was a tough old coot, and he was good at his job. It wasn’t his fault that he worked for a fundamentally evil organization. Maybe they’d meet again, someday. Maybe whatever had woken Owen up could wake Tarik, too—bring him back into the light.

  Angela was smiling at him. “Sure. Hey, you’re talking about the College more these days.”

  ”Yeah. Thawing out a bit.”

  ”Is that one of Art’s metaphors?”

  ”How’d you guess?” He’d been spending a lot more time around the bear lately. There was something very calming about the guy’s presence. He knew a lot about meditation, breathing techniques, mindfulness.. practices that had gotten him through his own prodigious collection of traumas. They didn’t talk much about what had happened to either of them—as far as Owen was concerned, Art was still a closed book—but his company was oddly healing. And it felt good, overall, to have … well, something like a friend.

  He looked out over the valley now, thinking about that. Not only did he have Angela at his side—he had her family, too. It was unbelievable that they’d accepted him. Taken him in. Even forgiven him for the terrible thing he’d done—for all the terrible things he’d done in his life. He hadn’t had that for a long, long time—longer than he could remember. And though he still had centuries of damage to work through, he felt—for the first time, he could remember—a sense of real, concrete hope for the future. He looked forward to each day when he woke up, and not just because he woke up to Angela’s sleepy morning face… though that was a big part of it.

  “What’d I do?” he wondered aloud, giving her a sidelong smile. “What’d I do to deserve any of this?”

  ”Just lucky, I guess,” Angela said, stretching. “We have that in common.”

  ”Oh, yeah?”

  ”Yeah.” Her eyes twinkled. “Think about it. There I was, minding my own business, and you dropped right out of the sky and into my lap.”

  ”It was a bit more complicated than that—”

  ”Not as far as I’m concerned,” she said loftily. “C’mon. I want to get to the top of this stupid mountain, so I never have to climb it again. We’re going running next time.”

  ”Deal,” he laughed, knowing that the tone of rancor in her voice wasn’t serious. “Angela?”

  ”Mm?” She turned, slinging her backpack onto her back, her blonde braid swinging, and he felt such love for her he thought his heart was going to burst.

  ”I’m—I’m yours, you know.” He’d practiced this a million times in his head—why was he doing such a crap job of it now? They’d never really talked about the subject of their relationship. She’d seemed willing to let him avoid it, and he’d been frightened to add love to his huge list of issues—but right here, right now, with her hair shining in the sunlight and her bright silver eyes on him, he had to say it, had to say something, or what kind of a coward would he be? “I love you. You’re—I don’t know anything about all that soulmate stuff shifters talk about, you know? They always told me that it wasn’t something that happened to people like me. That I was … different, somehow. But they were wrong. If I’m sure of anything in the world, I’m sure you’re my soulmate.”

  Not the best speech he’d ever made, he thought, feeling his heart pounding with the adrenalin of finally saying out loud what he’d been thinking about for weeks, ever since he’d moved in to the Palace, even before that—ever since he’d rounded the corner to find her there, sitting on the rock in the river. But she was gazing up at him like he’d just recited Shakespeare, her eyes full of love, and he grinned despite himself, ducking his head.

  “I think so too,” she said softly, moving into his space, wrapping her arms carefully around his waist—she was mindful of the steep d
rop that awaited them if they lost their footing up here, he realized with some amusement. “I’ve thought so for a very long time, in fact. I didn’t want to bring it up, in case—”

  ”In case it made me panic and sprint off into the woods,” Owen filled in, grinning.

  ”Something like that. But—yeah. I mean, that’s why I think I’m lucky, you know? What were the odds of you finding me all the way out here?” Her eyes twinkled. “So does that mean…”

  ”Mean what?”

  ”We’re… you know, together? Going steady? Boyfriend and girlfriend?”

  ”I’m centuries old, Angela,” he said with as much dignity as he could muster. “I’m nobody’s boyfriend.”

  ”Well, too bad, because it’s boyfriend or nothing,” she said challengingly, putting her hands on her hips. “I’ve never had a boyfriend, and I don’t intend to miss out on my one chance at it just because you’re too old and dignified to be called a boy. I’m twenty-five, I’m not going to complain about being your girlfriend.”

  The word made his chest glow, for all its silly, infantile connotations—and he groaned theatrically as she realized that he’d surrendered. She tapped him happily on the chest as though she was naming him. “Boyfriend!”

  ”This was a mistake,” he protested, laughing. But something she’d said had stuck with him. “Your one chance?”