“You two going to be all right?” Elixa asked, severing the connection sizzling between them. “I could have Serene accompany you, if necessary.”
Rafe turned his attention to Elixa. “One partner is more than enough for me.”
“Not how I remember it,” Misty mumbled when air finally filled her lungs.
When Rafe faced Misty again, his lips were tight. His Draco flecks dimmed. “Oh, I think we’re gonna be just fine, Misty and me,” he said. “Just fine.”
Chapter Two
Rafe dragged his eyes away from Misty. He didn’t think seeing her again after ten years of being apart would be this damn difficult. She was his past—both the most beautiful and the most painful part, true—but the sharpness of his reaction should’ve been dulled by now. It wasn’t.
“Let’s get to it then,” he said, grabbing his bag and starting into the hall.
He had to put some space between them. He forgot too easily that Misty could sense the emotions of those around her. Despite how Rafe had tried to build walls around himself, she’d always been the one who could break them down. He wondered how much she’d picked up about his unresolved feelings back there.
It only took one look at her angelic face for Rafe to realize his memory of her beauty hadn’t done her justice. Her hair wasn’t soft red like he dreamed every night when he closed his eyes. It was flaming crimson, falling to her waist in long, fiery curls that he ached to run his fingers through. Her eyes weren’t hazel, with muted specks of green and brown. They glimmered brilliant shades of honey that’d make the perfect cuts of the Draco stone seem dull.
They strode through one of the castle’s many great rooms, where a grand fireplace was roaring, filling the cathedral ceiling with light and warmth. Dracos and Sindracos stalked every corner, eyeing Misty curiously.
Sindracos, occupying a large village in the forest behind the castle, had always viewed empaths with a bit of disdain. Empaths could travel freely between territories, and travel through the portals back to the mainland. But being Sindraco—half-Draco offspring—they were secluded on the Draco part of the isle, their driving force in life being the best rider a Draco could desire.
Mere humans to the common eye, Sindracos were the Dracos only hope at procreation. One in five Draco-Sindraco offspring had the ability to shift. Non-shifters lived in villages on Draco land where they waited, night and day, year after year, for their opportunity to become a rider, mate with a Draco and bring another dragon into the world.
When Misty pulled away from Rafe a bit, he took the chance to check her out. She was not like the Sindraco women, thank God. Misty was soft and curvy in all the right places, but strong, with toned legs and arms. The lushness of her breasts and hips, accented by the narrowness of her waist, gave her a gorgeous hourglass shape.
“Let’s hit the road,” Misty said, obviously eager to get the hell away from prying Draco eyes. “We’re burning daylight sticking around here.”
“You’ll have no means of communication once you head over that ridge,” Elixa explained as they pushed through a set of French doors and stepped onto a wide-open terrace that overlooked a lush rain forest with open miles of rolling hills.
“Rafe, with the signal you’ve been throwing off lately, I can find you anywhere,” she continued.
As Misty took the first step into the swooping valley below, Rafe realized there was only one way he would be able to do this. He’d have to remind Misty of what they had before she left. They’d had an unbelievable connection, a love that couldn’t be matched—he could bring it back in two days if he worked hard to jog her memory. Thanks to the missing Draco stone and Misty’s unmatchable empath abilities, Rafe would have the chance to apologize for being such an ass. An opportunity he’d been dreaming of for ten years.
That moment was now.
“Here goes nothin’.” Rafe hitched his duffel over his shoulder, took a deep breath.
With one look at the heavy cloud cover that reminded him too much of the storm brewing in Misty’s eyes, Rafe headed down the path, eager to live out the last days of his life…with the only girl he ever loved.
*
Thanks to a desolate wilderness and shit-poor reception, Misty and Rafe were out of communication with Castle Arcane within an hour. They’d left at noon, when the sun was high in the sky and now watched it sink below the line of trees ahead of them. With the exception of directionality questions and one-word answers, they’d barely acknowledged one another.
Rafe would’ve shifted into a dragon, tossed Misty on his back and soared over the treetops to their first destination, but—God help him—he wanted to talk to her. See what she had to say. Surprisingly the desire to pick her brain was greater than the urge to have the milky span of her legs clenching around his middle.
He hadn’t seen Misty in years. Had she forgiven him? Changed her mind as well as her heart?
It was driving Rafe mad; being around her again without being able to touch her or pull her close. A few times he’d reached out to hold her hand then realized she’d just pull away.
When the silence became too much to bear, Rafe spoke up, determined to break through her walls. “How does it feel being back?”
Misty went palms down on a fallen log, supporting her weight before swinging both legs over. Rafe followed, placing his hand in the same spot hers had been, feeling remnants of the warmth from her body radiate through the heart of his hand.
“Sounds odd to say, but it feels like I never left. These trails…it’s like I walked them yesterday.”
“Well, we did spend a ton of time out here. Familiarity would be a natural reaction.”
“Yeah.” She paused, watching her step, and then shoved her way through a series of low hanging limbs. Was she thinking about their past as he was? How they chased each other around these trees as flirting adolescents. “It was kind of great for a while,” she said. “I can’t deny the fun we had. I found myself in these trees…”
He wondered if that was the reason Misty had agreed to help. These trees, this land, was her home as much as it was his. Seeing the land claimed by werewolves would be their worst nightmare.
Rafe couldn’t help but ask, “How’d things turn out for you? I mean, are you happy in San Francisco? With your new life?” The last words stung as they left his lips; he’d been cataloged with her past when all he’d ever wanted was a piece of her future.
She stopped unexpectedly and turned to face him. “I’m happier than I was here in a lot of ways. Most people in the city are out for themselves, but they’re clear about what they want and what they need. There are no guessing games. Love is as clear as hate and you always know what you’re getting into from the beginning.”
Rafe stepped closer, feeling the tension between them mount. “You, of all people should know love isn’t the only emotion to consider. And sometimes those other factors are just as important in determining our paths in life.”
With a little huff that turned Rafe on more than it should’ve, Misty spun back to the trail. “Only a fool would cast love aside…luckily, you’re the only one I’ve met this decade.”
That one hurt. He didn’t cast love aside…at least not in his book. He set it free by allowing Misty to live a life without the chains he would have inevitably imposed upon her. Rafe clenched his jaw until his teeth ached.
“There’s no greater joy than being with someone you love.” She hesitated as if she read the hurt spiraling in his gut. Shaking her head, she sidestepped through the brush. “Duty and responsibility may set the framework for building a solid life, but without love to fill it, that life is worth little.”
Then he went and said it; the thing weighing on his chest. “I didn’t lie to you, Misty. I loved you back then. More than my own life…you simply didn’t understand the burden weighing on my shoulders.”
“No, you changed your mind,” she interrupted, dipping low, skirting beneath a spiky bush. “It was so easy for you to sleep with me then dec
ide it wasn’t what you wanted. Don’t call what we shared love. Love isn’t so fickle.”
“That’s not how it happened.” Rafe’s heart pulsed hard in his ears. Didn’t Misty know she deserved more than the Isle of Feralon? That she deserved more than he could ever offer her as his rider? She belonged in a happy home with a picket fence, blue shutters and a big yellow dog. She deserved a perfect marriage with a loving husband and a van load of giggling children. She needed to live a long and healthy life, grow old and gray…and eventually answer to Death’s whisper. Eventually.
If Rafe had claimed Misty as his rider, she would’ve had ten years to live. Twenty tops. Riding a dragon was a death sentence. A casualty of their way of life. Death was payment for ten years brilliantly lived, riding through the skies, loving with the breadth of the heavens. It was one thing Sindraco women understood wholeheartedly. They were born and raised fully understanding Draco life and what that meant. And they knew from the start that dying as a Draco rider was the most honorable death imaginable.
But Misty was not a Sindraco woman. She didn’t understand their ways. And Rafe didn’t expect her to.
Ten to twenty perfect years were nothing compared to the full lifetime Misty could live without him. His Draco siblings couldn’t possibly care for their riders half as much as he cared for Misty. He wanted more for her…so much more.
“I don’t remember you being so close minded,” he said. “I thought, over everything else that happened, you’d look back on our time together and know how deeply I felt about you.”
“Close minded? Rafe, If you would’ve told me you wanted me—only my body—I could’ve handled that. Maybe. I mean, I would’ve wanted more, but I would’ve accepted the thought. But instead, you told me you wanted all of me, mind, heart and soul, and then you went and changed your mind. That’s not me being stubborn, Rafe, that’s you being a prick. You know what…” Anger wrapped around her words like the vines at their feet. “Never mind…I’ve thought about it long enough, I don’t need to hash it over, least of all with you. How long until our first stop? Didn’t you say Queen Elixa arranged somewhere to stay before we trudged into werewolf territory?”
“Stop,” he said, holding her back with his arm. He dismissed her anger, and listened carefully. “We’re close.”
She didn’t flinch away from his touch. Just stared up at him with big, hazel—and very skeptical—puppy dog eyes that peered straight through all his bullshit.
“Down there.” Still holding her back, Rafe lifted a big ass limb, revealing a sheer drop into Timeless Gorge, the oldest and widest canyon in Feralon. In the twilight, Misty’s hair was a brilliant shade of crimson. It flowed around her shoulders like rippling waves of fire.
“It’s beautiful,” she said, peering down at the river snaking below.
He was thinking the same thing, though his eyes were glued to her.
“Is that…music?” she asked.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he groaned. Heavy drumbeats rattled the ground, flew through the canyon, swirling on the night air. “Of all nights Queen Elixa arranges for us to stay, she picks tonight. Just my luck.”
“What are you talking about?”
“They’re having a Draco claiming ceremony. We’ll get to watch a dragon claim a rider. Only happens once every couple years. Should be quite the party.” He should’ve tried harder to conceal the disdain in his voice, but he couldn’t. It wasn’t fair that dragons could claim whatever rider they wanted…that riders had no say in the matter.
And it wasn’t fair that he was going to die in two short days because he refused to choose one….
Kneeling on the ground, Rafe closed his eyes, feeling the dragon inside him burning to be set free. He couldn’t shift…not yet.
“The ceremony’s down there? At the bottom of Timeless Gorge?”
“No.” Rafe took off his boots and shoved them in his bag, then picked up a handful of dirt and let it slip through his fingers. “The Dracos have carved out the inside of this mountain. Can’t you feel their energy building beneath your feet?”
Misty used to be good at sensing Draco energy. The best. On second thought, maybe it was just his energy she could feel as if it was her own…
*
“All I feel is anxiety,” Misty said, trying hard to feel beneath layers of earth. It was the truth. Her insides were humming in anticipation. She was a bundle of nerves, ready to spring into action…wait…Rafe.
He was still kneeling on the ground, letting dirt run through his fingers. When he looked up at her, the emerald specks on his cheeks were blazing. The change had begun.
“Are you ready?” he asked, his voice too gravelly. Too sexy.
Her own body fired with sexual pulses as his muscles clenched and tightened, preparing for the shift. Her body responded to his on a primal level Misty couldn’t explain. She needed to touch him, ride him, feel the power of his body surging beneath her. God, she would’ve given anything to be claimed as Rafe’s rider. She’d never felt closer to another. It was more than sex…more than pleasure…it was as if her heartstrings thrummed in time with his.
It had always been Rafe….
The longer Misty was with him, the more she realized that it didn’t matter how he’d pulled her close, then pushed her away when they were young. It didn’t matter that she knew better than to let their physical chemistry override her logic. She couldn’t help but be drawn to him.
He stripped out of his clothes and shoved them into his duffel. Misty looked away, studying the wrinkles of bark on the trees, the lush green canopy above them, anything to avoid drinking in the hard lines of his body the way she wanted.
“Hold this,” he said, and tossed the bag at her. It hit her in the side and fell to her feet.
She didn’t realize she’d been shaking her head, answering his question. Or maybe she was trying to tell herself she couldn’t have what she really ached for. “There’s got to be another way down there, right?” she said, hitching the bag over her shoulder. “A path? A tunnel?”
He groaned; a deafening cry that pierced the night. It was matched by another dragon cry from below. And then another.
They were being welcomed into the clan.
Within seconds, the change happened. Green and golden scales, shaped like teardrops, draped over his skin. Wings folded outward from his back, stretching into full, glorious form. His neck lengthened, bulked up.
For a second, Misty thought about jumping back. It’d been too long since she’d seen a Draco take dragon form. But then Rafe set his smoldering green eyes upon her. In human or dragon form—she didn’t care—they were both him. There was no reason to be afraid. Beyond the oval-shaped emerald eyes, glimmering scales and rounded snout, was the man she’d fallen head over heels for all those years ago.
He tilted his wings for Misty to hop on. They were green and strong and caught the last seconds of daylight perfectly. She didn’t remember it being like this….
Excitement bubbled through her, though she couldn’t tell if the emotion was hers or his. She sighed as her stomach flipped. “I still think there’s a better way to do this.”
With a snort, Rafe curved his long neck behind her legs and nudged her onto his back with his head. She landed on his back with a humph! then scrambled to catch her footing.
“Rafe, knock it off,” she said, smacking him. “You touch my ass again and I’ll cook up dragon-tail stew.”
Laughter rolled through him. Rafe’s happiness seeped into Misty until she found it hard to be angry at his little stunt. And as she wrapped her arms around the bulk of his neck and buried her face against his surprisingly silky dragon skin, she prayed their flight into the gorge would be over quickly.
He certainly didn’t need to know how much she enjoyed riding him.
As Misty held her breath, Rafe’s giant back arched. His incredibly long tail hovered above the earth. And then he pounded over the cliff with the grace of an eagle.
They soa
red.
Misty wrapped her hands tight around his neck. Rafe shuddered. He dipped unexpectedly, catching a forceful gust of wind. His wings beat hard once, then flattened out, slicing through the sky with ease. He banked right gracefully, gliding from airstream to airstream, until the rain forest disappeared over their heads.
Timeless Gorge didn’t feel so large with them in it. It felt easily passable with a few heavy beats of Rafe’s wings. Misty could conquer the world on his back, just like this.
It was peaceful. Perfect. And over too quickly.
They veered into a cavern about halfway down the wall of the gorge. Rafe’s wings thumped the walls of the cave as he settled to the ground. Then he tilted to the side to let Misty off. For a split second, she didn’t want to let go. She wanted to let her hands run over the taut lines of his back and dip beneath his belly, where she knew he had a sensitive spot. She wanted to explore the rivers and valleys of the gorge from Rafe’s back, feeling his energy rippling through her. And then she remembered what had happened last time.
She was too easily seduced. And too easily cast aside.
Tossing his bag at his feet, Misty jumped down, and stood face-to-face with an older man who looked too grumpy to be part of the welcome committee. His fuzzy eyebrows arched into a point above the bridge of his nose. His scraggly brown hair was long and unkempt. But his Draco specks were a dazzling shade of purple and smothered his cheeks.
“You’re later than expected,” he said, his voice as deep as the cavern. “You’ve nearly missed the festivities.” He opened his arm to lead them into the dark heart of the mountain. “This way.”
By the time Misty locked eyes with Rafe again, he was back in his human form, crouched in the corner buck naked, digging through his bag. She peeled her eyes off the muscles bulging in his back, off the seductive curve of his ass, and clamped her mouth shut so her tongue didn’t lag. Facing the cave wall, he pulled on his T-shirt and jeans then slipped back into his boots.
Even in something classic, he looked sexy as hell.
Claimed by Desire Page 2