Dragon's Rebel (Wild Dragons Book 2)

by Anastasia Wilde

  She felt a stirring in his mind, a flicker of hope. But before it could get a hold on him, the looming presence of Vyrkos reared up in his mind. YOU ARE DRAKEN, it said to Thorne. YOU WILL KEEP YOUR TRUE FORM. I COMMAND YOU.

  And suddenly, Rebel felt the part of Thorne that wanted to be a dragon. The little boy, desperate to be a full-blooded Draken, to be loved, accepted, respected. The part of him that hated his human side, and all the pain it had caused him.

  The part of him that didn’t want to come back.

  The shadowy Draken Lord in Thorne’s mind grew larger, more commanding.

  Oh hell no.

  Hey! Rebel called out. You there! Draken Lord! Get the hell out of here and leave Thorne alone!

  The shadow turned its full attention on her, and Rebel felt like her lungs were being squeezed flat. She couldn’t get her breath.

  YOU DARE SPEAK TO ME, WORM? it thundered. YOU ARE NOTHING. HE IS DRAKEN. I COMMAND HIM.

  Worm? Now she was getting pissed off. He doesn’t have to listen to you, asshole, she snarled. He’s not just draken. He’s human, too.

  I AM HIS LORD AND HIS GOD.

  You’re a loser stuck under a mountain. You’re not even here. You’re dreaming this. Go back to sleep, fucker.

  Out loud, she whispered, “Come on, Thorne. You said I’m your mate. If you really believe it, then prove it. Come back for me.”

  The Draken Lord began to laugh. The sound hurt her whole body.

  YOU CANNOT BE HIS MATE. YOU ARE UNWORTHY. YOU ARE HUMAN.

  Guess again, sucker, Rebel said. He was pissing her off, and her head was ringing. I’m not just any mate. I’m one of the Three Destined Mates from prophecy. A Keeper of the Seals to your tomb, dickhead. He doesn’t belong to you.

  Darkness was rolling over her, and she felt like she would pass out. Words raced through her mind and out her mouth. “I claim him. By prophecy, magic and the power of the human heart, he is MINE!”

  Rebel didn’t know where the last words came from, but as soon as they were spoken, it felt like an electric shock raced through her body and into Thorne’s. It crackled through the shade of Vyrkos left in Thorne’s mind, breaking its power.

  The magic holding Thorne in dragon form dissipated. The serum’s effects blasted through his neural pathways, shutting down some, activating others.

  His dragon gave a great roar, and then its body shimmered and shrank. Rebel’s left wrist burned and she cried out.

  She was holding Thorne, naked and human, blood streaming from his nose and ears.

  Chapter 19

  He wasn’t breathing. Rebel stuck her fingers up under his jaw, trying to feel the pulse. It was barely there.

  She struck Thorne’s chest with her fist, over his heart. “You are not dying on me now,” she yelled at him. “We need you. I almost got squashed by Vyrkos for you, Lizard, and you are not fucking allowed to die, you hear me?”

  She hit him again. His chest lifted as he sucked in a breath, and he coughed weakly.

  “Thorne?” He didn’t wake up, and his breathing was shallow. The bleeding from his nose and ears seemed to have stopped, though.

  Using all her strength, Rebel hauled Thorne to his feet. He weighed a ton, and he was slippery with sweat and blood. She guessed that dragon shifting-with-clothes thing only worked when they were conscious. Good to know.

  She draped him over her back in a fireman’s carry, wrapping his arms around her and holding onto them, and half-dragged, half-carried him into the house.

  She got him down the hall to her bedroom and heaved him onto the bed, ignoring the blood and dirt rubbing off him onto the sheets.

  She checked him again. Still breathing. “Good,” she muttered. “You do not get to die, you crazy fucking dragon. Nobody dies without my say-so.”

  But he was still on the brink of slipping away. She could feel it.

  She left him just long enough to run warm water over a washcloth and bring it back, wiping the blood off his face.

  His cheeks were hollow and there were dark smudges under his eyes. His hair was mussed and tumbled. His scowl was gone, and he looked younger and more vulnerable.

  Rebel sighed. She was a sucker for tough guys turned vulnerable.

  She cleaned him up as best she could—until he started shivering. His skin had gone from cold and clammy to hot—too hot. He was feverish.

  Oh, hell.

  She pulled the blankets up, but he was shivering so hard his teeth were actually chattering. She got a couple spare blankets and piled them on top, but it didn’t seem to help. She was starting to feel weak and lightheaded now too, as if his state was somehow affecting her.

  What if he were draining her life force? Could they both die?

  No. Not happening. Rebel crawled into the bed beside Thorne, trying to hold him down, to soothe him.

  “Did you hear me? We’re going to make it through this, you bastard! You can’t leave now. We have to find the Seal. We have to save the world. And we haven’t gone bowling. Or to Disney. Or done the nasty. I’m not checking out before the hot sex, and neither are you.”

  She wrapped herself around him, trying to calm the shaking. She should call the others. Tyr was some kind of dragon healer; maybe he could help.

  She felt in her pocket for her phone, but it wasn’t there. Shit. It had probably fallen out in the yard, when she was getting shaken like a margarita in a blender.

  She moved to get out of bed, but Thorne clung onto her like he was drowning and she was his last chance at survival. “Okay, it’s okay,” she said. “I’m here. I’m not leaving.”

  She felt so dizzy, and so tired. Maybe she’d just stay here for a few minutes, and then she’d get up and look for her phone.

  After a while the shaking calmed. Rebel was warm now, and filled with an aching lassitude that made it hard to think of moving. Thorne was still holding on to her but not as hard, and his breathing had evened out, though he was still racked by the occasional shiver.

  Everything began to slip into darkness. She could still feel Thorne, but she could hardly see him now. Her eyes felt like they were open, but they must be closed, because there was nothing but darkness around her.

  Wait. She could feel Thorne, but she couldn’t feel the bed underneath her. It was like they were floating in space, with only each other to hold onto.

  And then she heard his voice. Rebel?

  I’m here. Where are we?

  I don’t—his voice broke off. Then, I think we’re in the spirit world.

  The spirit world? That couldn’t be good. Please tell me we’re not dead.

  Thorne sounded amused, the fucker. I don’t think so. He went quiet for a minute. No. I can feel the ties back to our bodies.

  Well, that’s something. I just hope Corwyn doesn’t happen along and murder us in my bed while we’re—wherever we are. And why are we wherever we are?

  We must be on the brink of death.

  Oh, hells to the no. We are not on the brink of death. No death allowed. She told him quickly what happened after he took the serum.

  You told Vyrkos you were my mate? His voice was slightly stunned.

  Yeah, well, he pissed me off. It knocked him right out of your fucking mind, too. Boom. I wish I could get rid of the serum’s effects that easily. Because I hate to tell you, but you’re not reacting well to that shit.

  Am I human? He paused. In our world, I mean.

  Yep. Rebel became suddenly aware of the feel of Thorne’s body against hers, and shifted uncomfortably. It was weird to feel like she was still lying down with him, but not feel anything under her. We got that far. But it—well, I have to admit, I was worried there for a little while.

  You were worried for me?

  He sounded surprised. What did he think she was, some kind of stone-hearted monster? Of course I was, you lizardy lummox. You had blood coming out your ears.

  That got a moment of silence. I’m sorry. Thank you for being with me. But… I’m afraid I’ve dragged you dow
n the dark hole with me.

  Rebel said, We just have to wake up, right? Go back in our bodies?

  I don’t know. I…

  His voice drifted off and he seemed to grow insubstantial, as if he were dissolving right there in her arms.

  “Thorne!” she called out loud. “Thorne!”

  For a long moment there was no answer, and she clung desperately to him, trying to pull him back with force of will.

  Then there was something in the darkness all around her, something lithe and warm and smelling of cinnamon.

 

  It wasn’t Thorne. It was the dragon.

  “You have to help me,” she said desperately. “I’m losing him.”

 

  “It’s not true. Losing you will kill him.”

 

  Rebel felt tears clogging her throat. “No! Don’t die. You can’t die.”

 

  She felt him uncoil himself and move away in the darkness. His voice grew softer.

  Rebel reached out, but her fingers closed on empty air. All she heard was a final whisper:

 

  And then she could feel Thorne again, solid and whole. She could feel his velvet skin and the hard muscles underneath; the bones of his skull as she cupped his face. He was real. Solid. Alive.

  You’re the princess. You know what you have to do.

  She guided his lips to hers. “Dammit, Thorne,” she whispered against them. “I care about you. And you need to come the hell back, because the world needs you.” I need you.

  She kissed him.

  This was nothing like a little squinched-up peck on the side of a dragon’s head. His lips were hot and wild, soft and yielding, all too human.

  He groaned softly, a growl she could feel in his chest, and he pulled her to him, devouring her lips like a drowning man devours water.

  His hand dug into the hair at the nape of her neck, pulling her even closer, pulling the kiss deeper. Her breasts were flat against the hard hot planes of his chest, and her awareness flickered so at one moment they were skin to skin, and the next moment with the barrier of her clothes between them.

  She realized dimly that she was half in the real world, half in the spirit world, sharing Thorne’s vision and yet anchoring him to earth, to reality, to life.

  She tried to pour her life essence into him with the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck, sliding one hand down his chest.

  She could feel his shaft hard against her thigh, and she reached down to stroke it. His back arched and he let out another moan.

  As she had in his visions, she could feel what he felt—the clench of his belly and the burning in his groin, the heat of his desire overwhelming everything else.

  He wanted her so badly. He needed her—needed her to fill the deep well of loneliness he’d felt from the moment he realized he was different, he didn’t belong, that he was a shame and an embarrassment, when all he wanted was to serve the Draken and the world as a Guardian.

  And then that had happened for him, but only in a way that brought more heartache and pain.

  She almost didn’t want to bring him back, knowing more heartache and pain might lie ahead.

  But she knew beyond a doubt that she couldn’t let him go.

  Chapter 20

  Thorne’s body was on fire. But for the first time, there was no pain.

  There was only her. Rebel. Her soft curves and strong lean limbs. Her breasts that were tantalizingly naked one minute and frustratingly covered the next.

  Her ass and thighs and the soft wet heat between them.

  Her mouth, cajoling and demanding and pleading, her tongue sliding over his, her kiss stealing his breath and making him want to follow her anywhere, everywhere, back from the gates of Hell, back to life from the brink of death.

  Even though he was nowhere near his hoard, he felt a faint vibration run through his body, an echo of the song of the gold, responding to their joining.

  Life and desire roared through his veins, heating his blood, chasing away the pain with the healing touch of his mate.

  Mate. Mine.

  He pulled her closer, kissing her with abandon, her lips and neck and cheekbones and closed eyes.

  She had clothes on now, and he had to make them go away so there would be no barrier between them, no matter which world they were in.

  He used his power to make them disappear, and then there was the curve of her back and the hollow of her shoulder and the place between her collarbones, all begging for kisses.

  Her dusky nipples, hard with arousal, needing to be kissed and sucked and licked as he cupped the soft flesh. His thigh was between hers, and he could feel her slick wetness.

  He had to touch it. He shifted position so he could reach her cleft with his fingers, stroking her slippery folds, feeling her gasp and squirm as he touched her most sensitive place.

  He loved that, loved making her burn for him, and he teased and stroked and circled her clit with soft touches, making her pant and moan with desire for more.

  He wanted to give her everything. All his gold, all his pent-up emotions. All his love and care and protection, all his hurts and fears.

  His heart. Dragon and human, he wanted to give it all to her, so that she would never be without anything she needed or wanted. So that her life would be filled. She would be filled.

  She was stroking his shaft now, her light touch like feathers of fire, with the power to ignite all his inner flames.

  She wrapped her fingers around him, tugging in a slow, sensual rhythm, stoking those flames until they threatened to explode.

  He stopped her hand. It was too soon. He wanted this to last forever. He wanted her too much. He wanted every part of her, and he took it, plundering her body with his lips and hands and tongue.

  So soft. So sensual.

  Her scent was hot and amazing, like warm sugar and spring flowers. He bit her lightly just above the hipbone, and when she gasped in pleasure he grazed his teeth down to the crease of her thigh, and then kissed his way to her core.

  Mine.

  His first taste of her core was like heaven, and he lapped at her, tasting her in long slow strokes of his tongue, kissing her clit and swirling his tongue until she dug her fingernails into his shoulder.

  Yes.

  He wanted her to lose herself, lose her inhibitions, lose her mind.

  He wanted her to give herself to him completely.

  It was the only thing that would make him whole.

  She whimpered, holding his head with both hands, fingers tangled in his hair.

  He slid his fingers inside her, filling her while he kissed her clit, listening to her soft moans as her body inched toward release.

  There. He gave one more stroke with his tongue, and she was exploding all around him, her hips rocking, crying out as her body shuddered.

  He moved his mouth swiftly up her body, small bites in her most sensitive places, each one sending an aftershock through her.

  He nipped the strong tendon of her neck near her shoulder, resting himself on his elbows, tangling his fingers in her hair.

  “I need you,” he breathed in her ear.

  She reached down to his shaft, guiding it into her. Feeling her wet and hot and tight around him was so overwhelming he had to stop for a moment, letting the feelings rush over him.

  Nothing else could ever be this good, this right.

  Rebel raised her knees, wrapping her strong legs around him and pulling him deeper inside her. “Yes,” she murmured. “More.”

  A groan forced its way out of Thorne’s throat. He felt desperate. The shadow of death still hovered over his shoulder—how close he’d come to losing his life, failing his mission.

  He’d come so close to never experiencing this. />
  But she’d brought him back. He could feel magic gathering in his chest, in the base of his spine, and he pulled back and thrust deeply into her.

  Another moan wrenched through him, matched by hers. He began stroking her, trying to make it last because this was the best feeling on earth, in all the worlds, joining with his mate and sharing her pleasure.

  Thorne felt as if he were rising out of his body once more, hurtling toward a release that would take them both to a place they’d never experienced before.

  They were moving together now, one body, one spirit, no longer able to feel a separation between them.

  And then they were both flying without wings, soaring in the endless blue sky, surrounded by light and heat and sunshine. Joy surged through him, sudden and unexpected, and he gave one final thrust and surrendered.

  To joy.

  To her.

  To his mate.

  Yours, he said in his mind. Always yours.

  Chapter 21

  Thorne woke up hours later, with the setting sun streaming through the half-open curtains in Rebel’s bedroom.

  He ached all over, and he felt weak.

  For a second he couldn’t remember where he was or what had happened. Then he realized he was in bed with Rebel, their limbs tangled together, her warm skin pressed against the length of his body.

  For a moment he was afraid to move. Afraid he would wake her, and find out that she didn’t want him after all.

  That she’d been caught up in the moment, that she’d agreed to be his mate and made love to him out of pity and compassion—afraid he would die, and needing to do something to bring him back. Anything.

  She was good at pushing people away, and he was terrible at letting them get close to him. He didn’t know how to make her keep wanting him, but the thought of her turning away was unbearable.

  He just wanted to lie there and feel her skin and smell her hair and revel in how beautiful she was.

  And think of better ways to woo her, now that he was human.

  Human.

  That realization brought him wide awake. The serum had worked, though it had nearly killed him. And his dragon…