“Yes. She told me.”
Jenson smirked. “Not anymore. We fed her all her triggers, and there was no reaction whatsoever. One has to wonder if it was casual exposure… or if there was more.” She turned to him and pressed one of her long fingers to her red lips. “One wonders what sort of exposure a woman needs to a dragon for these effects to take place.”
“You aren’t very subtle.”
“I believe in saying what I mean and going for what I want.” She stared at him hungrily. “I could say it’s for scientific curiosity, but it’s purely physical. I want to know if dragons really are as good as they say.”
“You’ll have to find a different dragon. I don’t sleep with business partners… makes it awkward.”
Jenson didn’t seem too upset. She shrugged and turned back to watching Dominique. “I suppose a human woman can’t compare to a dragon anyway. Oh well… there are plenty other dragons. But these results we got from Dominique… we learned a lot more than I thought we would. We’re ready to go to the next phase. I’m excited to see how resilient she is.”
Resilient? What did she mean by that?
“I’ll be leaving in the morning,” Ivarsson said quickly, not letting himself dwell on that, nor the rising guilt. “You have been most hospitable, but I must turn my attention to my own plans once more.”
Jenson sighed and shrugged. “You are welcome to return whenever you wish to. I must say, I’ll miss your company… are you certain you won’t change your mind? This human might surprise you.”
Ivarsson turned to her and gave her a wide smile, shaking his head all the same. “I’m afraid not. As I said, it makes it awkward. You see, I’m the type to fall in love far too easily.” He winked. He’d rather her think this was about him than to say that he found the thought revolting. Far more revolting than it actually should be, but he wasn’t telling her that. “Best not risk it.”
She blushed a little and giggled, sounding unlike herself, before nodding. “I’ll let security know that you’ll be leaving.”
He nodded his thanks toward her and headed back to his room. Next phase. He tried not to think about what that meant… but he had the sickening sense that it was going to be torture. Why else would Jenson talk about how resilient Dominique was? Perhaps it meant injecting her with diseases or some such thing… But his mind kept cycling back to her laying strapped to a table, tears running down her face as she screamed in pain and terror…
Then the image flashed across his mind of his mother, laying on the floor with her eyes glassy and blood all around her. What would she think of him? Was this the sort of man she had wanted him to become? Would she be ashamed to call him her son?
He closed his eyes, trying to fight off the images and the guilt swirling in his stomach. It didn’t work. And with a curse, he turned on his heel and headed back to Dominique.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Chapter Thirteen
Dominique
When Ivarsson stepped into the room, Dominique didn’t even bother thinking. She immediately launched herself across the room, her fists aiming for his face. He wasn’t expecting the attack, foolishly, and she landed a solid blow to his nose before she started to beat on his chest. It hurt her hands to strike against his hard chest, but if she could cause him half the pain he was causing her, she’d take it.
Obscenities streamed from her mouth as tears streamed from her eyes. She wasn’t entirely certain why she was so furious with him. Hadn’t she known deep inside that he’d do this? That he didn’t have a shred of decency in his body? Why had she expected anything other than betrayal?
Ivarsson fended off her blows, grunting with an annoyed expression on his face. When Dominique tried to kick him, he grabbed her wrists and held her out at arm’s length, preventing her from continuing to attack him.
“What has gotten into you?” he grunted. “What good do you think this will do?”
“I don’t care about what’s good!” she screamed back as tears continued down her cheeks. “You… you… I was starting to care—"
She cut off, expecting Ivarsson to laugh and tell her that she was weak or stupid for caring when it was plainly obvious that he had no reason or desire to care about her. To her surprise, though, his expression, which had been mildly irritated, registered surprise, then a flash of regret before settling into something that wasn’t quite impassive. She couldn’t read what he was feeling, though.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered under his breath. “I’m sorry that… I don’t know why, but I’ve started caring, too.”
Oh, so that was it. Her traitorous heart had started to rise when he apologized, but it came crashing back down after he’d completed what he meant to say. He wasn’t sorry for what he did, he was sorry that he had started to care about her. She jerked her hands free, wanting to punch him in his stupid, handsome face again, but instead she held herself rigidly.
“I might be able to help you.” He stared at her intently, as though trying to give her a secret message, but she didn’t want to bother with trying to decipher it.
She laughed at him, though the sound was choked by a sob. “Really? And how’s that?”
“The tests that were run on you have shown surprising results.” He remained where he was, with that intense look still in his eyes. “Your captors want to move onto the next stage of their experiments. That is, they want to test how far they can push you physically—especially in pain.”
Her stomach dropped out, and her chest started to tighten. Her heart pounded wildly, and her hands trembled.
“I have convinced them to give you a choice between… between that and the observation of a human who is not mated to a dragon… but still carries a dragon’s child.”
It took her a moment to understand what he meant. At that moment, he had glanced over at what she knew was a large two-way mirror. When he turned back to her, though, the true meaning of what he was saying crashed down on her. A feral screech echoed from her throat as she lunged to attack him again.
This time, he sidestepped her, holding his hands up in the air. His gaze was intense again as he looked at her. “It’s your choice, whichever one is more appealing—”
“More appealing?” she glowered at him, her hands trembling in fists beside her. “Do you think the choice between torture and sleeping with you is appealing?”
Maybe. Maybe if things hadn’t gone this way. Maybe if he hadn’t kidnapped her, handed her over to these people and then said that he’d convinced them to let him get her pregnant. Okay, maybe once he was working with her and Indulf—or at least, she thought he had been working with them—she had indulged in a fantasy or two. But those times were long gone!
Ivarsson shook his head, that intense expression turning almost… pleading. “No. Not sleep with me. If you chose the child, it would be conceived through artificial means. I swear. I don’t sleep with women who aren’t fully willing.”
She shook her head, drawing away as he stepped closer again. “I’d rather take the torture,” she spat even as something inside her hesitated.
Would it be so bad to have Ivarsson’s child—well, that depended on what would happen after! If she had a baby only for it to be taken away and experimented on… No. She wasn’t going to change her mind. Babies should be born because they were wanted, not because she wanted to avoid a different fate!
Ivarsson reached out to her—and right at that moment, all the lights went out. Dominique jumped, then screamed when Ivarsson’s arms wrapped around her. He pulled her tight against his body, and her heart leapt to her throat as her scream reached a new pitch. Ivarsson flinched, cursed and then heat burned against her side. A burst of flames ate the darkness as he shifted and sent a fireball at the ceiling. It blew outwards, and, with her clutched tightly to his chest, Ivarsson leapt through the opening that it had created.
Below them were several screams and shouts. Dominique clung to the large clawed fingers that were wrapped around her. People burst
into the broken room and more scattered about the outside of the small building. Wind whipped past her face as Ivarsson’s wings beat the air. He lifted them up and away.
Gunfire broke through the air and she flinched. She expected to feel pain rip through her body at any moment, but it never came. Ivarsson grunted. He tilted a little to the left, then renewed his flapping wings. Soon, the base below them was swallowed by the darkness of night and a misty wind flew into her face. Her face coated with dew and her hair grew damp.
She was shivering mightily from the cold before Ivarsson set down. He shifted back to his human form and Dominique tore from him, not wanting to be near his nakedness. Calmly, he opened a pouch that was tied around his waist—she must have been too angry to notice its bulk before—and pulled on a shirt and pair of trousers.
“Where are we?” she demanded.
“Safely away for now.” Ivarsson gestured towards the dim glow of streetlights some distance away. “We have a bit of a walk, but it’s best if nobody sees a dragon come in. Jenson and her goons won’t have been able to track us, and I need rest. Forgot about the machine guns… Just grazed me, but if I keep flying, they won’t have a chance to close.”
Dominique stared at him, uncertain what to think and confused by his actions. Had he… had he saved her? Or was this one of his tricks?
He stared at her then headed towards the streetlights. Dominique watched for a moment before going after him. She was soaking wet, after all, and had no money and no clue where they were. Once they were in town, maybe she could get away and go to the police…
Once they were in town, however, she was shivering so badly that she could hardly walk. Ivarsson put his arms around her and half-carried her to a subpar motel, where he put her in a room and told her to have a hot shower to warm up. She locked the bathroom door and did as he said, desperate not to be so freezing cold anymore.
When she was done, she wrapped herself in a ratty robe that the motel provided and stepped out again. Ivarsson had managed to procure a hair dryer and was at work, drying her clothing.
Dominique watched him, the words from at the Turner group’s base ringing through her ears. She swallowed hard. “What… what are you going to do with me now?”
“Take you back to Indulf.”
Dominique’s jaw dropped, and her eyes widened.
Ivarsson glanced up at her and grunted in annoyance. He shook his head and snorted. “I’m not as heartless as you think.”
Tightening her robe, she moved closer and sat on the edge of the bed. She stared at him for a long time, while he continued to concentrate on drying her clothing. Despite that brief moment of fear in the base, now that they were in a private place, her only half-dressed and him here… she wasn’t afraid. It wasn’t what he had said about taking her back to Indulf, either. No. Her heart beat steadily, her damp hair sticking to her skin as she watched him. Even before he said he’d take her back to Indulf, she wasn’t afraid he’d assault her.
“Maybe…” She took a deep breath as he lifted his head, a curious expression on his face. “Maybe you’re not as heartless as you think.”
Ivarsson shook his head, looking back at his work. “You still think that? Even after I betrayed Indulf and you? Handed you over to them for their experiments?”
“But you saved me.”
“How do you know that this isn’t another trick? Maybe I’m just playing the hero so that I can get Byrelmore’s citizens to love me more than Indulf, so that when he jails me again it causes an uproar.”
She frowned at him. “After you handed me over to the Turner group twice?”
“Their leader’s a woman named Jenson.”
Dominique let out an aggravated huff. What did it matter what their leader’s name was? “You couldn’t think that saving me after what you did could endear people to you. Not in these circumstances, at least. You already had a chance to be the hero when working with Indulf, and you blew it.”
“Maybe that’s true.” He shrugged. “But I got my money, and maybe I don’t want humans to end up as powerful as dragons. Maybe I like my position as top predator in the world.”
There was a slight edge to his tone, like he didn’t want to talk about it. Like he was going to have to admit to more than selfish motivations if they kept talking. And gratitude rose up in Dominique’s chest. Even though she was still angry with him, even though she knew that it was a mistake to trust him again… she couldn’t help it. And she found herself drawn forward.
Her hand rested on his shoulder, and he looked up in time for her lips to meet his. Dominique kissed him hard, heat flaring through her body so suddenly at the contact that she actually gasped aloud.
Ivarsson stared at her when she pulled back. Her face flushed, and she started twisting her hands. As she chewed her lip, he shook his head and turned off the hairdryer. He checked her clothes and, finding them still damp, turned the dryer back on.
“I didn’t rescue you to get sexy times,” he grunted.
Something light and bubby rose in her chest, and Dominique couldn’t help but laugh. “I know. Otherwise I wouldn’t have kissed you. I… I hope that’s okay…”
Ivarsson turned off the dryer again and met her eye. “Yeah. It’s fine. But I think that’s as much as should happen… don’t you?”
That was probably true. She tucked a stray curl behind her ear and went back to twisting her hands. He said he got his money, but she didn’t see any suitcases of bills around here. What was he going to do now? This rescue, it had certainly burned his bridge with the Turner group—or should she start calling it the Jenson group?
It didn’t really matter.
“You know… Indulf is a very forgiving king. You could have a place as his brother in Byrelmore. Is it so important to be king?”
“I’m a threat to him. He’d never give me a position.”
Dominique shook her head. “You don’t know him. Look at how he forgave Warmund. It wasn’t a popular choice, you know, but he forgave him frankly and reinstated his position, even after Warmund betrayed him.”
Ivarsson shook his head again. “You’re a dreamer. Not everyone is like you, Dominique. No… you are a dreamer.” And then, almost too quiet to hear, he added, “and maybe that’s why I couldn’t stand to see you destroyed.”
Chapter Fourteen
Ivarsson
Dominque’s clothes were still damp, even after he’d spent hours trying to dry them off. It didn’t seem to bother her. She curled up in the bed, wearing her robe, and was quickly asleep. As the sun rose outside, Ivarsson took an extra blanket and hung it up over the window, to keep it as dark as possible so she could sleep. He didn’t imagine she had gotten much sleep over the past week.
In the darkness and with only the sound of Dominique breathing, a rush of thoughts swarmed his mind. What had he been thinking? Not about saving her, if there was one thing in this messed-up situation that he knew with all his heart, it was that he could not have lived with himself if he had left her for one more day in Jenson’s claws.
No… his regrets were ones he never expected to have. What had he been thinking, dedicating his life to the pursuit of being king of a country he didn’t know? He’d grown up in the Exiled Lands. It was a completely different culture there, populated by criminals and the people they had stolen. He wasn’t the only child there, and as an adult he had seen many children there, even after Indulf had set up programs to bring children born in the Exiled Lands and at least one guardian back to Byrelmore. You couldn’t grow up in that filth and violence without it rubbing off on you.
And Ivarsson had never received an education. The most he got was the tutors who taught him to read and write before he was exiled. He didn’t know about finances or what was necessary to keep a kingdom running… He was smart, though, and picked things up quickly. He had always assumed that he’d just be able to learn what he needed to once he was king, the way he learned how to invent a new identity for himself once he had come to Earth.
He sunk onto the edge of the bed with a sigh. Being king had always been his fire, his driving force. But did he want to be king, or did he want to see his younger brother, his replacement, down in the dirt and muck like he had been?
But Dominique was right. Indulf wasn’t at all like how he had thought he’d be. He wasn’t the swaggering, arrogant dragon who thought he owned the world. In fact, Ivarsson thought that maybe, if he had genuinely helped Indulf take down Jenson and her group, he might have one day stood beside him as his brother.
Would that be good enough for me? Is it even a possibility? Dominque thought so.
Dominique…
His gaze drifted to her sleeping form. The taste of her lips brushed against his mouth again, and something tightened inside of him. Since that dream he’d had of her, he had been very careful not to think of her in those terms. That kiss, though, had brought everything back full force. He wished he could have kissed her longer. Wished he could have shifted that robe aside and seen if she was everything he had dreamed of.
But what right did he have to even want that?
Ivarsson moved to a chair and stretched out his legs, folding his arms and shutting his eyes. He needed sleep. The wounds in his side from the machine guns ripping through his wings had healed, but if he was going to fly to Byrelmore without another stop, he needed to build his energy reserves.
His muscles wouldn’t relax, though, and after half an hour, he got back up. He wasn’t going to relax, he couldn’t sleep. While there was no conceivable way for Jenson to have followed, that didn’t mean that she didn’t have something else up her sleeve. It was quite possible that she had some tracker put on Dominique—or even him.
They wouldn’t be safe until they were back in Byrelmore. And this time, Ivarsson would give Indulf all the information he needed to take down Jenson.
And I’ll spend the rest of my life behind bars. The thought was grim, but he couldn’t see any other way to ensure that Dominique was safe. So here he was. Going to sacrifice his freedom to make sure she never had to worry about being experimented on again.
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