With these thoughts, Calista’s beautiful face fills my mind. I miss her terribly. I miss her sweet smile and the needy sparkle in her eyes when I’d land on the perch of my bedroom. I’d shift and stalk close enough to fist her hair and pull her closer still. At least that’s how it was in the early years before age turned her bones brittle and pain flashed in her eyes even when I tried to be gentle. The later years of a bride’s life are all about companionship with long talks late into the night. She’d fall asleep in my arms while I stayed awake as long as I could. I tried to imprint her image on my brain. I needed it to keep me for all the lonely years I knew would come when she died.
A pot slamming in the kitchen jerks me from my daydreaming. And it couldn’t be too soon because those thoughts will have me a sobbing mess if I don’t control them. I wipe the blood from my arm and thigh before pulling the sweats over my legs. I toss the washcloth on top of the pile of dirty sheets on the floor and lie back against the pillows. I watch Sierra as she prepares food and desire floods my veins. I feel unfaithful to Calista. Even worse, Calista would understand. More than anything, she wanted me happy.
Losing each bride is devastating. After Bastian’s mate, Acasia, transcended to dragon, the pain became more unbearable the closer Calista came to passing. I prayed, begged, and bargained with the Goddess to spare her. Even if she remained old and frail, I would take Calista as mate and live with her for eternity. My knees were raw from subjugating myself. And none of it mattered. She took her last breath in my arms as my tears fell on her paper-thin, wrinkled skin with her beautiful, pain-clouded eyes staring into mine.
“Are you okay?” Sierra asks softly.
I wipe tears from my face feeling deeply embarrassed that Sierra sees me at my weakest. “I’m fine. You need to leave. Whatever you think will happen won’t. I don’t want to be your friend. I don’t even want to fuck you anymore.”
She ignores my request to leave and goes back to the kitchen area. Damn she is one frustrating woman. Within a short time, the smells coming from the kitchen make my stomach growl. I watch as she sets the table. A few minutes later, she carries the food to the table. She sits on one of the chairs and glances my way. “If you want the food I prepared, you may join me at the table. If not, I’m hungry and I’m sure I can manage to eat yours too.” She takes a bite and gives a slight moan. My cock likes the sound. The damn gurgling noise in my stomach rumbles louder and gives me away. I heft myself off the bed, walk over, and pull out a chair. My hair is barely wet now and it falls into my eyes.
Sierra watches each move I make. “I can trim that after we clean up if you want.”
I grunt, which is the best I can do because I’ve stolen a piece of meat from the center dish on the table. The flavor consumes my taste buds. Delicious. I’m not even sure if the cook at my castle could create something this delectable.
I glance back at Sierra and she drops her gaze pointedly to my plate. I decide to play nice so I can eat more of the delicious food without causing her ire to rise. I’ve kept only a little soup down, but each day the consistency has been heartier, thus preparing my stomach for solid food. I really know very little about beastkind metabolism here in their realm but Dragons usually need lots of calories because they burn quite a few when they shift. I haven’t shifted once since coming to the earth realm. Because of our size in dragon form, we register on radar as aircraft, which is dangerous for our kind. Well not really dangerous for dragons because we can easily take out any human threat, but, it’s chancy for beastkind. It would cause problems with the government that rules the surrounding beastkind territories. The shifters here don’t have the ability to escape to another realm if things go bad.
As far as I know, dragons are the only shifters capable of jumping realms without suffering a consequence. From time to time we take human children across if their parents give them over to save their lives. These children are critically ill. Once they cross, they’re free from their illness, but they lose their ability to speak. These children are raised by adults who once crossed over as children. They remain in the dragon realm and serve our needs. I have no idea how many of these servants I have. They quietly go about their day and mostly stay out of my way. I give little thought to who prepares my meals or changes the bed linen. I’ve watched Sierra do both. I shouldn’t like that she performs these menial tasks, but I do. I never felt the humans of my realm took a personal interest in me other than to see my needs met. They appear neither happy nor sad. It’s obvious Sierra finds enjoyment in caring for me even with my sour disposition.
I take another savory bite of meat and barely manage to hold back another groan. It melts in my mouth with the taste of herbs left floating on my tongue. I chew slowly before swallowing then try the rice next. It’s just as good.
“Do you like it?”
Sierra looks so hopeful but I downplay how wonderful it is. I finish chewing and take a long drink of water before answering. “It’s good.” Her lips purse slightly and I try again, “It’s really good.”
Now her smile lights up her face. “I’m glad. My other mother, Amy, taught me this recipe and I’ve always loved it.”
“Other mother?” I ask before I can stop myself. I shouldn’t be encouraging conversation. I need to maintain a mental distance from what she is obviously offering. I’m not an idiot and her wanting to be friends is a ruse. She desires me as much as I desire her.
“My birth mother was killed a few weeks after she gave birth to my brother and me. Marcus, the liege of the Southwest Clan, and his mate, Amy, raised me and my brother for a few years. When my father mated again, we moved to Florida to be with his new clan. I grew up traveling between the clans and spent many hours in the kitchen with Amy.”
She smiles wistfully at the memories she conjured and it’s impossible for me to remain silent and uninterested. I have enough painful memories of the deaths of those I’ve loved and decide against asking about her birth mother. “I thought vampires didn’t eat or drink anything but blood,” I question instead.
Her lashes do the sweeping cheek thing, which makes my cock stir. “Mostly they don’t,” she answered, “but they will enjoy some wine now and then. Marcus changed Amy to vampire and she discovered that she loves to cook. She began preparing meals for the clan when her chef found his mate and he cut back on how much he works. Amy’s a great lady and really the only mother I’ve ever known. Talya, the she-cat my father mated, is more of a sister to me.” Sierra lays her fork on her plate and laces her fingers with her elbows resting on the table. “Talya doesn’t enjoy cooking, so I did a lot of it when I grew older. I love to cook, but I don’t want to step on any she-bear toes while I’m here.” She gives me an exaggerated wink. “You’re the perfect guinea pig.”
Her smile is teasing, but I don’t take the bait. I like conversing with her. “What about your brother? Does he cook?”
She bursts out laughing at the question and I love the sound as it echoes off the cabin walls. “No, he can’t cook to save his life. He’ll need to find a mate who will provide food for the table or he’ll starve.”
I think about the argument she had with her brother. She yelled the entire time and I couldn’t hear his side of the conversation. It leaves me curious. “You challenged him for not having a mate…”
Her smile fades quickly. “I guess I did. I was angry and shouldn’t have antagonized him with a subject that is very painful for him.”
“The absence of a mate is not painful for you too?”
She shakes her head. “I haven’t given up on finding a mate. That special shifter is out there somewhere and I will wait for him to sweep me off my feet.” Her eyes grow dreamy for a few seconds and I know she’s thinking about this suitor that will come one day. The thought shouldn’t bother me, but it does. Her teeth flash with another grin and she speaks again. “Impatiently, but I will wait.” Her expression turns serious. “My brother has an entirely different problem and he’s hiding his true nature. He won’t ev
en speak to me about it.” She takes a long breath and meets my eyes with an, I dare you to say anything negative look. “He’s gay,” she says bluntly.
I choke on the piece of meat I’m in the process of swallowing. Before I can clear my throat, Sierra’s arm swipes across the table and our plates crash to the floor. I stare at the mess of broken dishes and food for a long moment before bringing my stunned gaze back to Sierra.
Her eyes are a dark vortex of anger. “You son of a bitch. He’s no less of a man than you or any other shifter,” she yells as she jumps up from her chair. “I hate you,” she adds as she heads for the door.
I’m so shocked at her sudden loss of composure that she’s almost outside when I manage to speak. “Will you give me a chance to respond?” I ask calmly.
She turns and her fists go to her waist with her legs spread to evenly distribute her weight. My little wolf knows how to fight, though this doesn’t surprise me. If she often has fits of temper like I’m witnessing right now, she needs the skills. “Go ahead, I dare you,” she replies as a low growl escapes her throat. Her face is flushed and her rapid breathing causes her chest to rise and fall. The tight leather of her top is like a second skin. My cock twitches in appreciation. If she sees the reaction I’m having to her temper tantrum, the situation could become violent.
To turn my thoughts away from my aching cock, I look to the empty space in front of me and think of the ruined food that I’m almost tempted to pick up off the floor. It’s that good. I need to fix the situation first. I peer back up at her as I gather the words that will make her understand how I feel. “There were only four dragons left after the curse. Now Bastian and Laryn have found mates. For Tahr and I, every bride we love eventually dies. While we wait for another claiming, we are alone.” I clear my throat before continuing. “Do you actually think I care if Tahr finds a mate who just happens to be the same sex? I don’t. It means his mate transcends to dragon and flies forever by his side. I will rejoice for him.” I can’t help my slight smile. “Though, from the way he is with his past brides, I don’t think his true mate will be other than female.” I snap out of humor quickly. Both his and my life will be filled with empty years and it hurts so deeply I want to scream—year upon year of loneliness that we’ve been through so many times before. I speak again before I’m sucked into the misery that is my fate. “I choked on the food only because your blunt words surprised me. The Goddess chooses our mate. If your brother’s mate is another man, so be it.”
The blaze in Sierra’s eyes fades and I can do nothing but look away. I don’t need her pity.
Chapter Four
Sierra
Sarn’s pain fills the room like a heavy shroud. He’s angry and desolate. I know some of the story that brought him to this point. He grieves for his dead bride and he did something to upset the other dragons. I have no clue what it is. I head back into the kitchen and fill two more plates with the leftover food from the stove.
I sit Sarn’s fresh plate of pork and rice in front of him. “Sorry,” I mutter before meeting his eyes. “I have a temper and the easiest way to bring it out is to say something bad about my brother.” Heat creeps into my cheeks. “Or make me think you’re insinuating something bad. We’re very close and his heartache is mine even though he tries to keep me from feeling it.” My eyes drop and I sit in my chair again. I tip my head so I can see him from the corner of my eye and wave my hand at his plate. “Please eat. You need the calories.”
Sarn picks up the new fork resting on his plate and eats every last bite. I like watching him enjoy the meal after seeing him struggle just to keep the soup down. He looks better, his color is good, and he doesn’t appear to be shaking as much.
We both finish eating and without a word begin picking up the broken glass and food from the floor. We work in tandem like we’ve done it before. I can’t help but inhale his scent when he leans close. My wolf lets me know she wants him. She’s resting on her haunches ready to pounce. She’s never been this irritatingly persistent and I can’t help wondering if it’s because she knows he’s at the top of the food chain. Vampires are the deadliest beings on earth. Dmitri told me a short while ago that a dragon, in his natural form, is deadlier. It’s hard to believe after seeing Sarn in such a bad condition for so long.
“Do you want me to trim you hair?” bursts from my mouth as soon as we’ve finished cleaning up. I don’t want to leave and it’s all I can think of to keep me here longer.
Sarn’s hand goes to the unruly strands. His expression lets me know he’s about to object. Before he can tell me to leave, I continue. “Friendship, that’s all I ask. Truthfully, I don’t want anything more. I could really use a friend.” Liar, liar pants on fire. We both want the other. If I can smell his arousal, he can smell mine. I don’t care. I do need a friend and in that I’m not lying.
He shrugs. “Are there scissors available or will you hack it off with a blade?”
I can tell from the way he says it that he doesn’t really care which I use. So like a man. “There are scissors in the bathroom drawer. I’ll grab a chair while you soak your head under the water again.”
He does exactly as I ask. This is a surprise because I know he doesn’t take direction well, which is a complete understatement. I watched him for far too long while I worked behind the bar at the nightclub. Many of the other women in the nightclub watched him too. It was something about his cold stare and his “I don’t give a fuck” attitude that had women flocking to him. Being gorgeous didn’t hurt either. He never offered to help the bear shifters at closing, just sat at what became known as his table. Some internal clock would finally signal that he needed to get up and stumble to his room. He’d take a bottle of whiskey with him while looking entirely devoid of emotion. He hid his sadness and anger behind solid walls most of the time.
Then there were the nights that his demons took over. He’d pick fights by making passes at women who obviously brought dates. Those were the worst nights. Humans visited the club and beastkind had to tone down their superhuman strength when dealing with Sarn. He was too drunk to care and had to be brought down quickly, usually by three or four bouncers. Staying away from the dragon at those times was next to impossible. I wanted so badly to soothe his pain.
In the hours before the nightclub closed for the evening and he wasn’t too drunk, he held court at his table. Women sat on his lap, leaned against him, or ran their hands over his shirt and arms. I followed those female hands as they dipped below the table and I knew exactly when they were touching more than his shirt. I wanted to sever fingers at this point, but I could never look away. He didn’t encourage the women, but my heart broke a little more each time he stood up, took one of their hands, and led them toward his room. The night I opened his bedroom door, I’d missed seeing him leave but knew he had been drinking heavily. I was worried and went to check on him. Seeing him disappear with women was one thing. Seeing him in bed with two of them was entirely another.
I was devastated and at the same time too angry to be around. I took the next two nights off work and went to my cabin in the bear territory. I shifted to wolf and wandered through the forest for almost forty-eight hours and let her have the lead. I learned early in life that I had to try and hold back my wildness. Shifting to wolf and staying in beastkind form was the only way I could control myself. I have no idea how my parents put up with me. Aside from my wolf form, my brother was the only one with the ability to calm me. When he became distressed because he refused to face his demons, I took over as the composed twin. It’s like his troubles gave me the strength to join both sides of myself and find harmony in being wolf and human. Or maybe the easier explanation is that I finally just grew up. Until, that is, I saw Sarn with two women. My thoughts were pure aggressive animal. So, with distance between me and the dragon, I used my wolf to straighten out my head.
After I was calm enough to return to work, I caught Sarn looking at me every so often. I expected him to invite me to his room and I
will not lie about what my answer would have been. I wanted Sarn, I still want him. But no, I was never one of his women at the nightclub. And dear Goddess that pisses me off because I wanted to be.
Today, with the alcohol out of his system, he’s calmer and the anger he usually carries is buried for the moment. I enter the bathroom carrying the chair after I hear the water shut off.
The space is small, but he can sit down and I can move around him if I wiggle a bit when I need to move in front of him. I grab a comb out of the same drawer that holds the scissors and take a chunk of his hair between my fingers. Slowly, I untangle the wet mess. His hair is a light brown, though right now it appears much darker because of the water dripping off of it. The tangles make it difficult to work the comb through, but I take my time and enjoy being this close. I breathe in his scent and I would swear my wolf purrs. Finally, I move in front of him. He doesn’t shut those gorgeous eyes, which have gone from dark to the most incredible color.
“They turn almost purple on occasion,” escapes from my mouth before I can stop myself. Heat rises in my cheeks because my voice sounds so loud in the small room.
“The color of my dragon,” he replies softly.
I stop what I’m doing and look closer, my embarrassment completely forgotten. “Dragons have a color?” I ask in disbelief.
He cocks his head slightly and a smile curves his full lips. My heart flutters at the soft, sensual look that appears on his face. “Did you think us see-through?” he asks as his grin grows bigger. His voice is a low, growly rasp that does even more to my growing need for this beautiful man.
It’s so good to see his disposition change for the better, so I smile back. “Well, no. I have no idea what color dragons are. For some reason it just never occurred to me that they would be purple.”
Dragons Don't Forgive Page 3