Empath Misty Burke only ever wanted one man: dragon shifter Rafe Landon. Their attraction was irresistible, but he was forbidden to love a member of another race and banished her from their island, breaking Misty’s heart.
Misty believes she’s gotten over him since that day—until she’s called home for a mission to help Rafe’s clan. The primal draw between them is as strong as ever, but despite their searing passion, Rafe still refuses to put Misty at risk by claiming her as his rider and mate. Even if it costs him his life….
Claimed by Desire
Kristin Miller
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Nocturne Cravings BPA
Copyright
Chapter One
“How long she been out?”
Misty Burke teetered on the edge of consciousness, struggling to separate the syllables of the gravelly voice. Who was that? Where was she? And why couldn’t she open her eyes?
“‘Bout twenty minutes.” A woman whispered. “She should be awake by now. Something’s wrong…”
Of course there was something wrong. Misty’s head felt fuzzy. Like the water plugging her ears had seeped into her brain. She shook her head, tried to gain her bearing and pinched her eyes tight. There had been water, hadn’t there? At least she remembered that much.
“Her heartbeat is strong.” Two rough fingers brushed against Misty’s neck, then stilled. “Did you have any problems bringing her through the portal?”
That masculine voice was eerily familiar, yet still so distant. Its tone, dark and smooth and delicious, was comforting, yet her body’s reaction to it was anything but. Heat flushed to her center. Blush crept into her cheeks. She felt a stirring of unease. Her body had only ever reacted to one male in this way. And he wasn’t anyone she ever wanted to see again. She shifted in her seat and the stranger removed his fingers from her neck.
“She’s an empath, not a dragon. Of course she had problems coming through.” The female in the room sighed as Misty felt consciousness swirl around her. “Only shifters can jump through the portals seamlessly. She blacked out on entry. I had to carry her to the castle and she’s been here since. Just like this.”
Suddenly, as if the words kerplunked the fragments of Misty’s memory into place, she remembered the blowhole on San Francisco’s rocky coast—the portal—that had sucked her here, away from her apartment in the city, her job, and her friends. It’d swept her to the Isle of Feralon—the land of shifters. But she still had no idea why the girl had dragged her here. Misty’s eyes fluttered open.
“She’s coming round,” the seductive male said again.
Wait…she’d heard that voice before, spoken from plush, kissable lips. Lips that had once thrown daggers instead of words. Clarity bitch-slapped Misty clean across the cheek. Hoping her instincts were wrong, she snapped her eyes open as her heart hammered against her chest.
Nothing could have prepared Misty for who was sitting in the chair next to her. Hypnotizing emerald eyes stared at her as if she was a long lost friend rather than the woman he’d ravished, claimed to love, then abandoned ten years earlier.
“Morning sunshine,” Rafe said, licking his lips. She quivered, remembering with crystal clarity how sweet those lips had tasted. Over the racing of her heart, she sensed his, speeding right in time. “You gave us quite a scare. Serene thought jumping through the portal would give you problems, having no Draco blood and all, but we didn’t think it’d knock you out on your ass. Guess you’re frailer than we thought. Is that what living in San Francisco has done to you?”
Ignoring his smart-ass remark, Misty rubbed her head and shot glances around a room that was decorated beautifully. Gothic-styled, dripping with red curtains and black leather furniture—it could’ve been Dracula’s study for all she knew. She’d jumped through a portal to the fabled Isle of Feralon, to the place she’d once called home. But the real question was where in Feralon the portal had taken her. “Where am I?”
Serene kneeled at Misty’s side, her chocolate-colored locks blending with the walls behind her. “You’re in Queen Elixa’s study.”
“I’m in Castle Arcane?” Her eyebrows shot for the stars. Shit.
Only shapeshifters were allowed on the queen’s estate. And Misty definitely didn’t fit that bill. She was an empath; brought to the Isle of Feralon as a young girl to live within a family group of other empaths. Commissioned by Queen Elixa, they had explored energy sources on the isle, made peace with each shifting race and ultimately drew territory lines.
Over the years, the world beyond Feralon had faded away. She’d loved every last bit of the isle…and embraced every Draco as family.
But one Draco in particular had snatched her heart and made her yearn to be an integral part of their inner circle. Each day leading to her eighteenth birthday, Misty had wanted nothing more than to be claimed by Rafe Landon in their most sacred bonding ceremony. Not only was he ruggedly handsome and stronger than any other Draco Misty had ever seen, but he was smart. Loyal. Willing to do or give anything for someone he loved.
But in the history of the Draco race, no Draco had ever claimed an empath. Dracos bred with Sindracos—humans with Draco heritage, but no ability to shift—in the hopes of creating other humans who could shift into dragons.
Despite all that, Misty had longed to be Rafe’s rider, seeing the world by embracing his back…but he had other plans and other female Sindracos in mind. It’d changed everything.
“Where’s the queen?” she asked, feeling the room thicken with expectation.
“Behind you.”
Every head turned and their gazes set upon Queen Elixa. She was just as heart-stopping as Misty remembered. Long blond hair cascaded down the front of a black empire dress. Blue freckles sprinkled on her cheeks shone bright, alerting everyone she was a proud member of the Draco race.
Each shapeshifting race on the isle had identifying marks. Werewolves, shifters of the land, had smokelike vine tattoos stretching up their back and neck. Merfolk, shifters of the sea, had hair that glowed like radiant auras in daylight. And Dracos, shifters of the air, had colored freckles dotted beneath their eyes, matching the shade of their scales when they shifted into dragons.
Judging by the pure sapphire blue of Elixa’s freckles, her scales would reflect the morning sky brilliantly. But something was off about the queen…. Misty couldn’t quite put her finger on it. It was almost as if…as if Queen Elixa was throwing off the kind of vibe Misty would have picked up from a weak or dying animal found in a forest.
Something wasn’t right….
Dracos were warriors, strong and protective. They didn’t throw off injured vibes—ever. A chill crept up Misty’s back as she thought about what that would mean if her senses were on target. Did the vibe have something to do with why they asked her to return?
“You’ve brought her back to the isle safely, Serene,” Elixa said, fiddling with her hands clasped in front of her. “Your duty is fulfilled. You can see your way out.”
After Serene left the room, securing the door behind her, the queen turned her attention to Misty. “It is good to see you, my dear, but I’m afraid we don’t have much time for pleasantries.”
Rafe leaned forward, out of his chair. Misty leaned back, matching the distance. “That’s royal talk for ‘keep your mouth shut,’” he whispered. “I know you’ll find that an impossible task, but please try.”
“Shut it, Rafe,” Misty snapped, her gaze settling on the green flecks sparkling across his cheekbones. S
he could nearly taste the adrenaline sparking through his system. Seeing Misty had Rafe all worked up, no matter how he tried to play it cool. That was the wicked cool part about being an empath. It was difficult for anyone to hide their true feelings. Not that she cared how Rafe felt….
“You haven’t changed a bit,” she said.
“Neither have you.” His gaze licked up and down her body, shooting shivers to Misty’s toes.
Damn it, why did he have to look at her that way? Like she was a finger-licking meal and he was starving. And why did her body have to betray her by responding?
Misty folded her arms and willed her core temperature to cool.
“Let’s get down to why I summoned you both here, shall we?” Elixa moved across the room and perched on the edge of her wing chair like an exotic bird on a swing. “A meeting was held here last week. Werewolves and merfolk were welcomed among Dracos with open arms for the first time in a decade. It was that night that the Draco stone was stolen. Our race grows weaker by the day without it. Soon we will lose the ability to shift into dragons completely.”
“What makes you think one of the other races took the stone?” Merfolk and werewolves couldn’t expect to grow in strength or power by stealing the Draco stone. They each protected their own stone, the source of their individual shapeshifting energies. “Doesn’t seem like something that would benefit either race.”
“Although we don’t know who stole it, exactly, we’ve traced the stone’s energy to the far end of Feralon, through forbidden territories occupied by both shifting races.”
Was Misty missing something? “What would either race have to gain from stealing your stone?”
Queen Elixa sighed, and Misty could’ve sworn her shoulders slumped. “In two days, the shifting races of the isle will reconvene to discuss drawing the final territory lines in Feralon. If we are too weak to fight for what is rightfully ours, they’ll challenge us for our lands. I’m afraid that at the rate our shifting energy is depleting, we will have lost our abilities to shift by then.”
Misty suddenly understood the gravity of the situation; if they couldn’t shift into dragons, they were merely humans, no stronger than any other. And humans without superior strength or speed didn’t stand a chance against a pack of power hungry werewolves.
“We will lose everything we’ve built. Our land. Our home.” She paused and shivered, as if she caught a cold draft. “If the situation is as dire as I think it is, we could be wiped off the Isle of Feralon completely.”
Misty tried to ignore the pangs in her heart, but, damn it, she couldn’t. Before Rafe banished her from the isle, Dracos were her family, her friends. Even though she’d built a new life in San Francisco, she’d never wish a single shifter on the isle harm…well, she thought as she shot a glare at Rafe, not all of them.
Was their fate really as bleak as the queen made it sound? Or was she overreacting?
“What does all this have to do with me?” Misty eyed Rafe curiously, trying to sense the same weakened aura she felt around the queen, but came up blank. Did he already know about the missing stone, or was this news to him, too?
“We need you to recover the stone, Misty,” Queen Elixa said sweetly. “And we don’t have long.”
“Me?” Misty suddenly felt heavy, dragged down by an invisible force—a responsibility that shouldn’t have been hers. “Why can’t you send a dragon to recover it?”
“A Draco may be able to fly across the isle quickly, but without someone to sense the location of the stone and give accurate directions, their journey could take longer than we have. No one knows the trails on the Isle of Feralon better than you. You were on the team of empaths who charted them to begin with.”
“So what if I was.” Misty swallowed the memories of the past swelling in her throat. “Can’t you find another?”
“Another won’t do.” Queen Elixa smiled, calm and confident. “There’s always been something about you, my dear. You were different from the start. Stronger. Able to pick up more than hints of energy. You have the ability to harness it.”
“That’s not true,” she snapped. Misty could only sense energy, not channel it through her.
“It’s imperative that you search the far recesses of the isle and return with the stone before two days’ time. Misty, you’re giving us a fighting chance…to survive. For that, I thank you.”
“You’re talking like I’ve already agreed to help you.” Misty struggled to keep her eyes off Rafe. “I was banished from the isle ten years ago, or have you both forgotten?” Misty wanted nothing more than to escape the pressure of Rafe’s heated gaze. She could sense his emerald eyes sizing her up. It was too uncomfortable. Too familiar. Too much like he was melting the clothes off her body.
What right did Rafe have to look at her that way when he’d sent Misty away as if she meant nothing? Did he think her emotions were some kind of yo-yo that he could manipulate at whim? And why couldn’t her body remember the pain of his betrayal and stop reacting as if he were still the only one it wanted?
Misty chewed on the inside of her lip and toned down the anger bubbling inside her. “Why do you think, just because you ask nicely, that I would be inclined to help you find the stone?”
“Because you lived among us.” Elixa’s voice lowered to a loving whisper as she leaned across her desk. “You understand our race. You loved us as your family once…and I think those feelings are still buried somewhere inside you.”
Misty forced out a huff as she remembered how quickly her Draco “loved ones” had cast her aside and off the isle at Rafe’s request. “Wouldn’t count on it.”
Even as Misty spoke the words, she knew they weren’t true. After the Dracos had kicked her off the isle, she’d floated around San Francisco as a lost soul. For years, she fought the pinch in her heart telling her that Feralon was her true home. It wasn’t until recently that she’d rented a nice place, secured a solid job that paid well, met some great friends and started a few potentially meaningful relationships.
Things were finally looking up for her in her new life.
But she couldn’t deny the soft spot that remained…here…with them.
As Misty’s will to walk out flickered, Queen Elixa said, “No matter how much the past has tainted your perception of us, I don’t think you wish every Draco on the isle harm. I can’t imagine you think we deserve the grave danger we’re faced with—we’ll die, Misty. You realize that, don’t you?”
“I do, but…” Misty wiped her hand across her forehead as the temperature in the room seemed to skyrocket. Queen Elixa was right. She’d loved the Dracos as her brothers and sisters, cousins and close friends. It’d crushed Misty when she was driven away, all because of Rafe’s wavering heart. She was a fool to have trusted him so freely.
Was there really no other way to bring back the stone? No one else who could search the rain forests of Feralon in her place?
Misty tossed around her options. She could chomp on the bitter pill some more. The only man she’d ever loved didn’t love her. She’d gotten over it. Eventually. For the most part. She could leave him, weak and alone and dying, along with the rest of his race.
But could she really live with herself if she went back to her life in San Francisco, knowing she could’ve found the stone and saved them? At the very least she could restore their strength to fight for their land.
Rafe grinned ear-to-ear and winked, as if he knew he was about to win the battle raging inside her. Damn him for knowing her as well as he did.
“Fine,” Misty said with a heavy sigh. “I’ll do it.”
“Knew it,” Rafe said.
She’d hoped Rafe would sit as still as stone, so she could pretend he wasn’t in the room. Looked as if her luck had run dry. “What are you doing here anyway?”
Queen Elixa stood, smiling. “Rafe is going to be your escort, the Draco who will take you wherever you need to go.”
“No.” Misty’s stomach flipped. Damn it. “Queen Elixa, if
you want me to take a dragon along in order to travel the gorges faster, that’s fine. Just not him.”
“There aren’t many Dracos left who are strong enough to make the trek to find it. Rafe is one of them.”
“What are you talking about? There’s gotta be someone faster, stronger…someone who doesn’t have a fork for a tongue.”
Rafe stuck his perfectly pink tongue between his teeth and gave a mock hiss.
“There’s no other who can match his abilities, Misty,” Elixa explained, unaware of the kinky picture painted in Misty’s brain. Oh, Rafe had abilities all right. Ones that had tied Misty in knots for years.
“No,” Misty said again, with more conviction this time.
Never him. Never again. No matter how drop-dead sexy he looked with ten years of maturity and twenty or so pounds of added muscle on him. She’d never fall for him again. It didn’t matter that she’d never kissed another with such petal-soft lips or such a deliciously talented tongue.
Rafe laughed, covered it with a cough and crossed his arms over his chest. He was perhaps more striking than Misty recalled, if that was possible. His almond-shaped eyes were blazing emerald, his Draco flecks no less mesmerizing. And his hair…it was still raven-black, but it was buzzed short; not the shoulder-tipping locks she remembered.
When did he get so large? He had to be over six foot six now…he wasn’t that tall before. Although, on second thought, most of their time together was spent lying down. Beyond her control, Misty’s gaze traveled to his lap as she wondered if he’d grown up everywhere…
He laughed again.
Gaze snapping back up to appropriate levels, Misty sat upright, pulling her shoulders back, matching his.
“Something funny, Rafe?” she asked, feeling her lips pinch together.
“No.” He leaned in, the way he used to when nuzzling her ear. Chills ran down her spine without the moistness of his breath on her skin. “I’ve always enjoyed seeing you all worked up.”
God, he smelled good. Like woodsy spice and fresh soap. She’d never found a man who brought her fires roaring to life like he did.
Claimed by Desire Page 1