by Ruby Dixon
Won’t they be angry? The cats?
“They might, but it’s for their own good.”
She thoughtfully strokes Mustard’s head. Then it is like us going to visit your friends. It will not make me happy, but it is for my own good, yes?
“If you don’t want to go, Teva—”
No, we will go. I want you to trust me. The stubbornness filters through her thoughts. I want to show you I am not wild. I am not insane. I am a good mate. I am. She emphasizes the last, as if she is not entirely convinced herself.
“We’ll figure it out,” I reassure her. “Maybe we just need to figure out what triggers you.” I think for a moment about her reaction, how chaotic her mind was, and the strange other voice I heard. “Was someone talking to you? Bothering you?”
Embarrassment clouds her thoughts. It was my belly fires. They talk to me when I am feeling upset. I know it sounds foolish, but I hear its voice clear as day, and it tells me things I want to hear, encourages me to do things I want to do. They were nicer when I was alone, but now that I have you, they are angrier. More demanding. I think they are jealous.
Voices. She’s hearing voices. My heart hurts to hear that. I knew from Andi and Amy that the dragons were mad but I didn’t think it would manifest like that. I…see.
She meets my eyes. You think I am more insane now, do you not? After hearing that?
It does cross my mind. But I shake my head and crouch next to her, petting one of the cats that twist and purr against her legs. “I think when you are lonely enough, you’ll talk to anyone—even someone that isn’t there—to make you feel less frightened and alone. Maybe in time those belly fires will stop speaking to you.”
I hope so. Her eyes flash black. They do not like you very much.
Then I really, really hope they stop talking to her.
Teva gives me a sunny smile. But I like you. And that is all that matters, yes?
“As long as you win all the arguments with your belly fires,” I agree. When she smiles at me like this, all sweet mischief, it’s hard to imagine her as troubled. She watches me with an intense gaze and clothing flashes through her mind. I gesture at her dress. “Did you want to wear that again?”
I was not thinking of my clothing, but of tearing yours off of you. She licks her lips. Or are you scared of me now?
Scared of her? It’s not that. I know she won’t hurt me. But I’m not a fan of this tension between us. I wish it wasn’t here. I wish I hadn’t seen that darker side of her, either, or felt how rage-filled her mind was, how unsettled. “Not scared. I can tell when you’re starting to lose control. You can too, can’t you?” When she nods, I continue. “It’s coming more frequently, isn’t it?”
She thinks for a moment, and then agrees. Yes.
Does it have anything to do with your battle form? I remember how dark her eyes flare each time she changes.
I can feel her grow mutinous at the suggestion. She does not want to think it is connected. Teva glares at me, saying nothing.
I give up. “Just promise me you’ll say if the belly fires speak to you, all right? Give me a chance to argue with them.”
She laughs. I shall. Does this mean I get to rip your clothes off, then? Her eyes gleam with excitement.
“Clothing is hard to come by, so ripping is a bad call. Helping me undress, however…I’d be open to that.” I let my thoughts fill with hunger instead of anger.
Teva sizes me up. I will share my wraps with you if you like. You can wear them anytime.
I picture myself in her flowing wedding dress and chuckle. It’s designed for someone with bigger tits than me, pretty one. But I appreciate the generosity.
I am very generous. She slides a hand between her thighs and brushes her fingers over her folds as she gazes at me.
Hot hunger blasts through me. She’s deliberately enticing me, and damn if it isn’t working. I’ve never met anyone as bold and fearless as Teva, and if that wasn’t appealing enough, the need in her thoughts is enough to make me forget all about holding anything back.
I want you to hold nothing back. Her fingers stroke the soft folds of her pussy. I want your mouth here instead of my hand. I want your cock inside me and this time you will fill me with your seed. This time, we will finish.
Then get in the tent, I tell her, getting to my feet. My cock is tight and aching against the constricting grip of my jeans, and I drag my hand over the front. Her gaze goes to my groin and I can feel the pleasure in her thoughts.
For a human, you are very big in certain areas.
You make it sound like I’m puny everywhere else.
Mm. Her thoughts are teasing, goading me.
I laugh and move toward her as she steps into the tent. This time, I’m the predator. You think I’m not strong enough to take charge of you, my sweet little destroyer? That I’m not big enough to give you the pleasure you need?
Am I wrong? she teases. Prove it.
She lies back on the sleeping bag I have spread out, her eyes bright with excitement. This time, it’ll be good, I think. This time, I’ll make her come so hard she sees sparks.
But a half hour later, I’m forced to admit defeat. Teva gets excited when I touch her, and she’s wet with need, but no matter how I kiss or lick her, she doesn’t come.
It’s frustrating for both of us, and my erection fades when I realize I can’t get her off. There’s something about this between us that’s wrong.
And I don’t know how to fix it. Just like I don’t know how to fix the sadness in her eyes, or the yearning in her heart when I roll off of her and walk away.
16
TEVA
I have not shifted to my battle form in over three days.
I did not think I could last so long. The need to shift itches against my spirit, but Gabe does not want me to. He worries it affects my mind. So I remain in my weaker two-legged form, walking when I should fly and remaining on the ground when I should be in the air.
Oddly enough, it grows easier as the days pass, because as they do, I feel more and more settled in my skin. My temper does not flare. My anger does not betray me.
And my belly fires are silent. The only voice in my head is my own…and Gabe’s.
Even now, as we walk down the quiet highway that is lined with abandoned cars, his mind touches mine. He scans the area as he tugs the flatbed of goods behind him, the entire thing harnessed to his chest so he can use his weight to pull it along instead of his hands. We will not leave behind anything that can be used by others, and our own supplies rest atop the numerous boxes.
Trapped inside their small cages, the cats howl and screech their protests. They have been angry for several days now but Gabe will not let them go. It is for their own good, he promises me, and every time we stop, he spends time petting them and appeasing their frustration. He has a special tent set up just for them, so they do not run away when we stop for the evening. We sleep in a different one—because he says they do not need to watch as he touches me.
Not that he is touching me tonight.
He has not touched me since the last time we tried to mate and he could not make me come once more.
I glance over at my mate. I never thought I would mate a human. There is a part of my mind that still views them as weak and inferior. Perhaps it is some old memory of when I came through the Rift, of destroying humans under my claws and seeing them flee in terror. A drakoni never flees, after all.
But Gabe has changed my mind on these thoughts. He is steady, my mate, and unfaltering. When I raged at the human interlopers, he stepped in front of them and grabbed my muzzle, forcing me to pay attention. His thoughts were connected with mine, and he wasn’t afraid for himself.
I could have killed him in a flash, but he showed no fear. And in the days that have passed, he continues to show no fear. He thinks only of others, dragging the supplies and animals over the long, winding roads.
He is a fierce mate, my Gabe. I am pleased he is mine…even if we cannot give e
Do you smell them? Gabe asks as we walk, interrupting my thoughts. His mind fills with an image of the two humans I almost killed, the ones stealing from us. Did they come this way?
I lift my head and breathe in the air, pleased to help Gabe in this way. There are old scents here, layered over one another. The smell is strong and foul, but I am trying not to let it bother me. Instead, I focus on Gabe’s scent. It is strong and thick, sweat and musk and has an underlying sweetness that makes me think of my home. Laced between the bad scents and Gabe’s more pleasant one are newer scents, but that of deer and nearby wild animals. I do not smell humans here, I admit to him. Not recent humans, anyway.
“Excellent.” Gabe seems pleased by this.
Is it?
“It means that if they came this way, they took the exit to Fort Shreveport instead. I hope they’ll find help there.”
Your human hive.
“Yes. We’ll go back there…later.”
Later, after I have seen the one called Liam and we have talked to him about how to better control the rage that sweeps over me when in battle form. It seems like a distant problem, because the weather is nice, my mate is at my side, and my belly is full. I am surprisingly content…even without the strength of my battle form.
How much longer until we reach your companions? I ask Gabe.
“Walking? With this crew?” He gestures at the flatbed and as if on cue, the cats howl with irritation. “Another day, maybe more. I don’t know the exact location, but I suspect when we get closer to Liam’s territory, they’ll find us.”
I nod. And then what?
“Then we pick each other’s brains.”
The mental image of that does not seem right. We are going to kill him and tear his head apart? That is very bloodthirsty of you, my mate.
Gabe laughs, flashing a smile at me. “It’s a human saying. No one’s brain is getting picked apart, not really. We’re going to compare information.”
Ah. I see. I consider this as we walk. Sharing information sounds nice, but it also does not sound very drakoni. The male might not welcome us. You are a male that barely carries my scent. It is a sore spot with me, the fact that no matter how often we touch, he does not smell like he is mine. I hate that. Reluctantly, I add, I carry yours so I am no threat to her, but he might feel you are looking to pursue his mate.
That makes Gabe pause. He gives me a speculative look. “Is this a hint that we should pause so you can put your scent on me?”
It is not a bad idea, I confess. The more you smell like me and the more I smell like you, the better off we are.
“And the happier you are,” Gabe murmurs, unhitching the harness on his chest. He drops it and loops an arm around my waist, pulling me against him. I wear no clothing or wraps, because I prefer to let the sun and the air caress my skin, but my soft dress is ready to put on when we meet the others. It is a dress for newly mated females and I want everyone to know Gabe is mine.
Since they cannot touch my mind, I must show them. I slide my hand to the back of his neck as he pulls me close, and admire the bite marks dotting his golden brown skin.
He puts a finger under my chin and tips my face so he can claim my mouth in a deep, scorching kiss.
I love kissing Gabe. Kissing always turns out well, after all. Kissing tells me that he wants me, since there is never a challenge between us. I keep waiting for one, but he is gentle and his caresses are achingly sweet, and his mouth touches mine in ways that make me hungry with need.
Even so, I can’t resist challenging him, just a little. I nip at his lip, and I meet his tongue with my own in a slick battle of wills and mouths. I let him win, but not until he wraps his hand in my hair and licks me so hard and deep I feel it between my thighs. I moan against his lips.
Let us pause here, I tell him, and cover each other with our mating scents. No one will doubt you are mine then, or that I am yours.
He chuckles, breaking off from the kiss to nip at my jaw with his square, strong teeth, and that movement sends little sparks of pleasure careening through me. “I think you’re just using that as an excuse for us to stop.”
As if I need an excuse. We kiss all the time, Gabe and I—but he hasn’t claimed me in days. It’s like kisses are safe between us, but anything else goes horribly wrong. I’m tired of waiting, too. I’m tired of the yearning ache deep inside me, desperate to be filled. So I push our twined hands toward my front and move them over my pussy, using his fingers to caress my slick folds. You want to take me as much as I want your touch. There is no battle necessary. In this, we both win.
Gabe groans, and he takes control of the touch, pushing two fingers together and then rubbing them hard over my clit. “Is that what you want, Teva?”
It is. I close my eyes, sinking into the sensations. His fingers are slick with my arousal, and they move faster and faster over my clit. The scent of my need hangs heavy in the air, and I want to paint him with it, to cover his skin so other females know he is taken. I pull him close and run my fangs over his neck, clinging to him as he works my cunt with his fingers, driving me relentlessly toward release.
I want you inside me, I tell him as I bite lightly at his neck. Never hard enough to make him lose the edge of his arousal, never hard enough to make him stop. Just enough to remind him that he’s all mine. I can feel the need coursing through him, and even as I rub my face against his neck and lick his skin, I send thoughts to his mind, mental images of how he should turn me over and push me against the nearest surface, claiming me as his own.
Claiming me as his own…and then my body not responding. His disappointment crashing through my mind.
I do not want to think about such things. I squeeze my eyes closed and shut my mind to him.
Gabe does not realize it, though. “You want me to take you, Teva?” he murmurs, fisting a hand in my hair even as he drags his fingers in little circles over my clit. “Fuck you so hard that you’re screaming for release?”
Hearing him say those things ignites the fire inside me again. He’s never been so fierce and I love it. Oh, I want that. I want that so badly. I love his rough hand in my hair, the gruffness in his voice. I want him to make me come so hard. I’m so desperate for it. Please, Gabe—
An infant’s cry rings through both his head and mine, along with an insistent urge.
HUNGRY.
I gasp even as we break apart. The child.
“Yeah, I hear her.” Gabe sounds annoyed at the interruption. “Kid has the worst timing.”
She is a baby, I say, and my thoughts are no longer on mating but on the young child whose mind touches mine. I reach out for her, but the distance is too far for her to hear my thoughts. I savor the feeling of her, though, closing my eyes to remain with her just a little bit longer.
For the last few days as we traveled, the child touches our thoughts now and then. Most of the time, she is kept skillfully muffled by her parents—as all drakoni children are—but every so often, something breaks through. I am impressed with the child’s strength and the ferocious name she was born with—Sallavatri. It is an impetuous, arrogant name…and that means she will be a great warrior. Of course she will. Is her mind not great enough to cross long distances?
Is she where we are going? I ask Gabe. I want to see her. I want to hold her. My yearning for young of my own courses through me. I, too, would like a child. One with Gabe’s golden eyes and his soft, dark hair.
“No,” Gabe says gently, pressing a kiss to my forehead before sliding his fingers away from my pussy. The mating urge is gone, as quickly as the deep flush over my skin. “Remember what I said yesterday? She is in Fort Dallas.”
From his thoughts, that is far away, but her mind is so strong. That is not normal for a child to be so loud over so long a distance.
“Maybe it’s because of this world? Being born here affects her differently?”
Perhaps, but I am not entirely sure. If that were the case she would be able to hear me respond to her, and yet she never does.
It is interesting, because Gabe can hear her, too. He is not drakoni, so his thoughts should only be shared with me, but he can feel her thoughts and her emotions, if not her actual voice.
“It’s how I knew you needed me,” Gabe reminds me, brushing my hair back from my face. “I could feel your thoughts.”
Because you took blood from a drakoni? I try to remember the story. It worries me that I cannot remember a lot of what Gabe has told me. The concepts flit into my mind and flit right back out, as impossible to grasp as the wind itself. He must remind me of things over and over again. I worry that being in this world has damaged me completely. That my mind is broken impossibly, and that I will never have the things I dreamed of—a nest, territory to defend…and young ones in that nest.
“There’s plenty of time for that, Teva,” Gabe reassures me. “And your mind isn’t broken. I don’t think that Rift left anyone whole. Not me, not you, not anyone.” His thoughts fill with the horrible days after his world was thrown into chaos, of friends and co-workers being killed, of long days of starvation and thirst, of plague and endless fighting and the worry of having no safe place for the elders that depended on him. Gabe’s thoughts are as heavy as my own.
Instinctively, I reach for his hand and lace my fingers with his, mindful of my claws. Thank you.
He glances over at me. “For?”
For being patient with me. I know drakoni were not the only ones affected by the Rift, but sometimes it is hard to see the other side.
His mouth crooks in a half smile. “Ditto.”
This is my territory, female, comes a new voice. It is male, drakoni, and unforgiving. Turn around and leave now.
I freeze, my senses on alert.
Gabe pulls me against him even as the wind shifts and I smell another drakoni on the breeze. Male. Mated. His scent is intertwined with a human’s.
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