by C. D. Gorri
Grrr, the woman made his Dragon practically tremble with some frenzied notion of mating. As if. He knew better than to believe there was someone out there in the world for him. Someone the universe had created for the sole purpose of providing solace to a lonely old SeaDragon. No. She simply didn’t exist. But the Witch might have at least provided some distraction.
Too bad she was working for those pompous assholes. He’d been shunned by the Heralds for centuries. Retired from his commission far too early. Relieved of all duties. However you put it, it all boiled down to the same thing. Nathan was fired. And now they want me back? Too fucking bad.
Speaking of fucking. His Dragon grumbled as he walked towards the mountain of boxes. Lonely was not quite the same as horny. And he was both. She’d entertained him for the short time she’d been there.
Good to look at. Smelled divine. Sense of humor. Rockin’ body. Yes. She was all anyone could want in a female. Nathan shook his head. This was getting him nowhere.
Still, should have asked the Witch if she fancied a fuck before kicking her out. He mourned the loss as he nudged the pallet with his serpentine head, pushing it closer to his abode. He’d have to do the rest as a man. No sense in risking any damage to his home by pushing the pallet through a wall with his Dragon strength. Been there, done that.
He shook off the tingling sensation that had been worming its way between his shoulder blades and contented himself with the thought that he was better off alone. Alone with an enormous amount of gourmet chocolate. Yum. Mine!
With barely a grunt he shifted back down to his smaller, though still large, human form. It wasn’t exactly effortless, but he was well past the days of writhing in agony at the change from one form to another. Magic swarmed around him, like a million small electrical shocks buzzing along his skin.
Dragonlings, or young ones, did not experience their first Change until well after puberty. He recalled his first time with a winsome smile. He’d been assisted by an elder, one who knew the breathing and chanting techniques to get him through the sting and pain of the experience.
He’d even studied it himself so as to help his own young at some point in time. Not that there was a need of such knowledge. He had no mate. No kin. He was the last.
Before the familiar agony of being the last of a species could fill him, Nathan pushed the large pallet towards his treasure room barely straining his muscles in the process.
The first floor of his keep resembled a modern-day garage or storage shed than a traditional Dragon’s treasure trove, but he was content with it. Rather than bury it deep within his mountain where he’d concealed his other riches, he kept this area for his contemporary essentials. Mainly power tools, sports equipment, back-up appliances, and food.
He mostly stored dry goods in bulk. Imagine his shock when humankind began experimenting with grains and foods. He’d been affronted by most of the species’ supposed success and now sought out only the top organic, non-GMO products to fill his stores.
He’d installed quite a few industrial sized freezers and refrigerators where he stocked his perishables. Meat, fish, most of which he’d caught himself, and a large selection of cheeses and curds. Nathan was a SeaDragon with quite the appetite despite his frequent hibernation sleeps.
A taste for fine things, Nathan built a wine cellar beneath the first floor with a generous assortment of liquors, wines, and case after case of his newfound love. Craft beer. Oh, how he adored IPAs! And finally, of course, his necessary supply of chocolate.
“A pan of brownies, and a six-pack of Shipwrecked,” the craft beer was from a brewery in a place called Maccon City, New Jersey.
The Full Moon Brewing Company was located there and had earned his respect with their full-bodied bottled beers, though Shipwrecked was his favorite. Several cases were in his latest haul. Just in time, he thought as he inhaled the cool, salty air outside his island home.
Having carved most of his abode out of the mountain that sat in the center of the island over decades of time, it took both strength and skill to cross the steep incline leading to his door. He’d taken his time so that his home was invisible to the untrained eye. With the development of satellites and all sorts of spy tech, he’d found it necessary to remain hidden using his brains and brawn, as much as his magic.
The door to his storage chamber looked like any other side of the mountain-scape. Rocky and inhospitable despite the landing, it looked deserted enough. Until, with a complicated series of taps on the stones and shrubs growing out of the hill, the door opened.
Nathan smiled, pleased with himself as ever. He pushed the pallet and all its glorious contents inside, grabbing one of the chocolate bricks before closing that main door, shutting out the world beyond.
He did not need to turn on the lights. Dragons had excellent night vision, though of all the Shifter species, he supposed his hearing was on average. Not that he’d admit that out loud.
As a superior supernatural, he was perfect! If not modest. The beast inside of him hmphed at the criticism, but Nathan just laughed as he opened the connecting door that would lead to his large, expertly outfitted kitchen. He did love to cook.
He sniffed the chocolatey goodness of the paper wrapped bar and smiled greedily, not paying much attention to the citrusy notes that danced on the air as he stepped heavily onto the smooth stone floor. Zap!
“Ouch! What the hell was that?” Nathan roared.
His head shot up, silver eyes narrowing as he heard a familiar tinkling voice gaily laughing as he hopped from one bare foot to the other. Dammit. He really needed to start Shifting with some clothes on. Shoes especially.
“That was a spell, Mr. Silvertongue. And now that I have your attention, why don’t we both sit down and have something to eat. Then we can discuss why I was sent here,” the vision of a Witch in front of him smiled brilliantly, showing perfect white teeth as she swung her hips and sashayed away from where he stood dumbfounded. Little minx!
Nathan growled at the little blonde who just zapped him a good one! And in his own home. The nerve of this woman, to simply smile at him like an imp and swing her perfectly rounded ass like so much temptation. Hmph. No. He would not fall for her wiles! He was a Dragon, and she worked for those bastard Heralds. Need to show her to be properly afraid.
His Dragon opened one teal-colored eye and snorted a bluish sort of flame erupting from his nostrils with a dragony laugh at his anger. Silly man, the beast seemed to say as he curled back up inside his mind’s eye, undisturbed by the presence of the little Witch. Wake up, fool! She is a threat. But his Dragon simply went back to resting, and Nathan snorted in disbelief.
“Why don’t you get dressed and sit?” She gestured towards him, seemingly undisturbed by his nudity, and back towards the beautifully set table.
His table. Though to be honest, he’d never seen it set so carefully or with so many dishes at once. His stomach grumbled. Loudly.
“Please,” she tilted her head.
Nathan hated to be rude. He was hungry and the platters of roasted vegetables and baked fish filling the surface of his long table seemed to beckon to him. Oh my, were those yeast rolls? His stomach growled again.
He placed the chocolate on the counter and waved an impatient hand over his body, quickly summoning a pair of fine linen pants and a tank top. He took a plate and started to reach for a serving fork, keeping his eyes on her as he did. Why does she disturb me so?
“Give that here,” she said, eyes dropping to his hands as she took his plate. He wanted to growl again. Mine. Only he wasn’t so sure he meant the food, that alone kept him silent.
“Let me serve you,” she said with a smile. A too innocent smile.
“As it should be,” he grinned, playing the arrogant beast to perfection, if he did say so himself. He ignored her exaggerated eyeroll and focused on the wonderful scent of citrus, her, mixed with the rosemary and garlic infused grilled veggies and fish. Yum.
He sat down, leaning back in the chair a
nd watched as she gave him a sampling of everything she’d made in his absence. She touched what is mine. An offense that would result in death for most who’d dared touched a Dragon’s hoard. But for some reason, he was not angry.
On the contrary, he liked seeing her there. Really liked seeing her there. In his space. With his things. She looked as if she’d been born to it. Made for him and him alone. Grrr.
“No need to growl at me. There you go,” she grinned and handed him the full plate.
Her big blue eyes hidden from him as she continued to look down. That annoyed him for some reason. He wanted to see her azure gaze. On me. Yes, she should be looking at me.
“You first,” eyebrows raised, he watched as she rolled her eyes again before focusing on him.
Finally, he thought, those stunning blues are on me. Perfection. He watched as she lifted her fork and sampled each of the dishes herself.
“Now that you know I didn’t spike the food with any poison, will you eat?”
“I doubt there is much that could harm me in this kitchen, Witch-”
“It’s Phoebe.”
“What?”
“My name,” she said, blue eyes sparkling in a way that made Nathan drool, “is Phoebe. Fee-Bee.”
“Phoebe,” he growled the word.
He liked the taste of her moniker all too much on his lips. Speaking of that delectable body part, his silvery gaze zeroed in on her plump pink lips. So darn kissable.
“That is a good name, Phoebe. It suits you. Please, call me Nathan,” he looked forward to hearing her say it. She would cry his name in ecstasy. Yes, he could almost hear it.
She blushed prettily as she lifted her fork, bringing tender morsels of the sumptuous food she’d made to her mouth. He found himself watching her hungrily.
His guest seemed to enjoy eating. Something he could wholeheartedly understand. Food was meant to be consumed. It was the end result of a good and hard day.
A proper meal prepared with warm, loving hands-. He stopped himself from waxing poetic about her. Reading any more into this impromptu dinner would be hazardous. He was simply hungry. As a SeaDragon, Nathan had an enormous appetite.
“This is delicious,” he exclaimed sampling the citrusy shellfish salad she’d placed on his dish.
Bits of jumbo lump crab meat and plump shrimp were tossed with thinly sliced celery, cilantro, and sprigs of parsley. The combination was dressed in fresh squeezed lime and lemon with just a dash of sea salt, crushed red pepper flakes, and olive oil. Superb.
“Thank you,” her demure answer pleased him.
She was delightfully feminine to his eyes, despite being so thoroughly modern. He appreciated her differences and wondered what other mysteries the sexy as sin Witch was hiding. I will find you out.
“Maybe we can chat a bit? Get to know each other?” She forked a shrimp and ate it in tiny, precise bites. So very tempting. Grrr.
“Very well. I am a SeaDragon, Phoebe Bright. I like my meat charred, my vegetables crisp, and my women soft and receptive,” he growled the last part, guiltily enjoying the way her cheeks blushed red.
“Well, I am sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Silvertongue, but I am not on the menu,” head high, she looked him squarely in the eyes as she responded to his barely disguised insinuation.
She had grit; he’d give her that. He allowed her to steer the conversation to safer waters as they ate their meal. A surprisingly good meal, he had to admit. Nathan couldn’t recall the last time he’d dined with someone. Especially one so easy on the eyes.
“Allow me,” he rose gracefully from the table just as she finished eating. Refusing to have her clean up after the wonderful meal she’d made.
“Were you always a good cook?” He asked as he cleared away empty platters. His manners might be a bit rusty, but he knew enough to not make a complete ass of himself.
“I suppose I just always liked to cook,” she shrugged as she handed him dishes, “I mean, you can tell I like to eat.”
“You look fine, Phoebe, just fine,” he said, his silver eyes piercing hers. For some reason, it bothered him to hear her say that about herself as if it were a bad thing. Liking food and one’s self was healthy. Besides, she was stunning.
“Sit, please,” he softened his tone.
She looked at him, her expression one of shock and he felt embarrassed by his earlier behavior. He’d been harsh, but she’d caught him off guard. Besides one meal didn’t change anything. She worked for the Heralds. Those who’d abandoned him. My enemies. Those I’ve longed to hunt down and maim for centuries. And yet, he felt compelled to treat her with honor and respect.
Pleasure flowed through him as she sat down, just as he’d asked. Taking a seat at the counter, she watched quietly while he loaded the dishwasher and placed the leftovers in a container. Not that there were many. The food had truly been marvelous. Cleaning the mess was the least he could do.
“I confess, I usually catch some fish and serve it grilled alongside a few basic vegetables. I never dress it up like you did-”
“I am spry if you didn’t like it,” she wrinkled her nose as she spoke.
“Quite the contrary, Phoebe. This was a real treat for me.”
“Oh,” she blushed prettily, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her tiny, seashell of an ear, “it’s all in the herbs, actually.”
Suspicion lifted his brows, but he dismissed it. Witches brewed potions. Surely, she had not tried to poison me. She’d said as much. Besides, no, he would have been able to tell if she were lying.
“I’m going to toss this in the compost outside,” he gestured to some organic scraps.
“No!” She yelled and slipped off the stool to her sandal clad feet.
“Um, wait!”
“Why?” Nathan turned slowly, unsure of her sudden outburst, “Phoebe?”
“Well, actually. It is kind of a funny story-”
“Why don’t you tell it then?”
“Okay. Like I said before, I am here at the command of the Heralds. You’ve been reinstated and there is an immediate threat-”
“No! I told you, I do not work for them any longer.”
“But you’re a retainer of Cancer! Do you know how rare it is to have a Zodiac Shifter who can control water?”
“I don’t care! They dumped me here in this place! Forgot I existed! I will not go back!” With that Nathan stormed to the front door.
He turned the knob and pulled, revealing a fresh storm brewing outside, but what did he care? A little rain couldn’t hurt him. No water could. He was a SeaDragon after all.
Without looking back at her mumbled wait, Nathan stepped over the threshold. Er, well, he tried to. A sudden, shockingly strong force propelled him backwards, tossing him onto the cold, stone floor with more force than a normal electrical shock.
“What the-”
“Are you okay?” rushing to his side, Phoebe skidded to a stop just in front of him.
His eyes were level with her shapely ankles under her long, flowing skirt. He wondered if her skin was as soft as it appeared. Grrr. He bit his tongue to keep from growling aloud as he took in her appearance from his position on the floor. Her not exactly surprised appearance at my being laid out like a Dragonling after his first thrashing.
Guilt and apology lingered in her bright blue eyes and Nathan could have howled in disbelief. His little Witch cast a spell on him! The nerve. And what was the spell exactly? His head was about to burst as pain lanced through his body. Nathan was livid at the sheer audacity of the little Witch. First, she feeds me, then she tries to kill me.
“No, not kill, it’s just-”
“Did you read my mind, Witch?”
“Um, no, you kind of said that other stuff out loud. But I promise I was not intending to kill you.”
“Step back,” he huffed.
With the utmost care, Nathan regained his feet. Stalking her to the long sectional couch in his living room, he almost laughed when she landed on her butt on one of th
e cushioned seats.
He leaned over, trapping her with his large arms on either side of her delectable little body. The Witch squirmed under his relentless stare. Her brilliant white teeth worried her lower lip, he used all his control to stop himself from licking the abused flesh. She tries to maim me, and I still want her. Bloody hell.
“What. Did. You. Do.” More command than question, Nathan waited as she hemmed and hawed internally.
Finally, after a few seconds she raised her heart-shaped face, blue-eyes glistening with determination and more spunk than he’d given her credit for and met his angry stare. Inhaling a deep breath, she blurted words so fast he could hardly understand her.
“Isortofputaspellonyou-”
“Slow down,” Nathan crossed his arms and glared at the Witch, his hackles rising with each second that passed.
“Okay,” she inhaled another deep, deep breath. This one pushed her ample bosoms out, nearly calling them to spill from their flimsy confines.
Nathan’s brain short-circuited for a second at the glorious sight. She was beautiful, there was no denying that. All pale, milky skin, pink lips, and blue eyes. Not to mention her hair, like spun gold. And that body of hers, groan, perfectly rounded for a Dragon’s hands! Grrr.
“Okay,” she started.
Fuck. Pay attention. He had to literally shake his head to remind himself to listen to what the woman was saying. I’ve been far too long without a woman.
“Well, there’s no easy way to do this without coming right out and saying it. So, well, um, I sort of put a teensy-weensy little spell on your house,” she winced as the last word left her mouth and he almost smiled. Almost. She was really just so damn cute.
“What kind of spell?” Curiosity as to what the Witch had brewed up while he was off getting his supplies forced the question from his lips.
“A confinement spell. Kind of. Well-”
“Phoebe, what exactly did you do?”