by Julia Mills
His words hung in the air as he felt the brewing tensions fade away. Kyra laughed, “Damn, you know how to take the wind out of a girl’s sails, Dev.” She continued forward, walking directly into her mate’s outstretched arms.
Royce mouthed, “Thank you,” over Kyra’s head and Devon grinned in response.
“Now, you two chuckleheads get the hell outta here and get some rest and…” He paused until they were both looking at him, and then said, “Thank you so very much. I couldn’t do this without either of you.”
“Oh, yeah, you could. It just wouldn’t be as much fun,” Kyra giggled.
Royce turned her in his arms and gently pushed his mate towards the back door, speaking over his shoulder, “I’m gonna take you up on the offer to get a few more hours sleep.”
“Me too,” Devon called to his friends as he shut the door and turned out the kitchen light. Heading back to Anya, he let all thoughts of the traitor drift away so that when he slid into bed next to her, his only thoughts were of her and the perfect way their bodies fit together.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Andrew barely made it back to the mansion before his temper got the best of him. He left his car running in the driveway, driver’s side door wide open, and the front door of the mansion barely on the hinges as he shoved his way through the throng of wizard wannabes blocking the path to his office. Slamming the door, he was greeted by an empty office with nothing but his nineteenth century solid oak Ambassador’s desk and leather high back office chair to toss around. Unwilling to destroy the only two pieces of furniture left, he pushed open the hidden panel beside the floor to ceiling bookcases and disappeared down the long hidden passageway to his hidden workout facility.
Throwing his trench coat, suit jacket, and dress shirt into a pile in the corner of the well-appointed room and kicking his shoes in the opposite corner, he strode towards the long punching bag that hung from the ceiling in the center of the room. He poured every bit of frustration and anger he felt at the loss of the young woman he knew was not only special but somehow imperative to his vengeance against the dragons. Sweat poured down his face and back. His fists, as well as the tops of his feet bled from the sheer voracity of his attack while his temper raged on. Visions of the sanctimonious Devon Walsh sweeping in and saving the damsel in distress fueled his ire as his punches and kicks landed one right after another. Only the sound of the concrete cracking under the huge steel bracket that held the bag to the ceiling stilled his fists.
Making his way to the small refrigerator across the room, he pulled out a cold bottle of water, took off the cap and drank it down, reaching for a second bottle while pitching the other towards the trashcan. Only when the second bottle had been emptied and thrown away did Andrew lean against the wall and take a long, deep breath. He looked around the room, not really seeing any of the equipment, only remembering what the young doctor had said when he had inquired about the girl’s condition. Dr. Gallagher, as her nametag had identified her, had spouted hospital policy and deflected his questions quite effectively, but it had been what she didn’t say that let him know the young woman was awake and well and for that he was grateful. What he absolutely hated, and was not sure how to rectify, was the fact that she was with those fucking dragons.
Andrew slid down the wall until his ass made contact with the floor, thankful he had at least one place in the world to let pretenses go and think. He thought about the vibes he had gotten from the young woman his men had taken from outside the movie theatre all those weeks ago. It was obvious she was magical. Not like Kyra or any of the other witches or wizards he had ever known, but magical all the same. She was filled with goodness and light, and something very old with an almost reverent feeling to it. That magic is what had compelled him to have her taken to the hospital where he knew she would sooner or later recover.
Sure that word of his arrival and disappearance had reached Mr. A and not wanting the glorified thug to accidently stumble upon his private lair while searching for him, Andrew jumped in the shower he’d had installed and quickly redressed. Taking a different route that lead to the gardens behind the mansion, the traitor reentered through the French doors into the dining room. All conversation ceased and the handful of his followers that surrounded one end of the long, antique dining table refused to meet his eyes. Apparently, word of his less than joyful return had spread. Silently reveling in the fact that they feared him, Andrew strode out of the room with his head held high.
Just as he rounded the corner to the hallway that led to his office, he spotted John carrying several large books, a look of genuine accomplishment on his face. At the sound of Andrew’s boots on the hardwood floor, his assistant smiled and said six words that truly lifted Andrew’s spirits, “I translated more of the prophecy.”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Anya awoke cocooned in the warmth of Devon’s body, his scent filling her senses and the feel of his breath on the nape of her neck. She very slowly and carefully rolled until she was face to face with the man that had wormed his way into her heart. Up close, she could see how incredibly long and thick his dark eyelashes were as they curled against the tops of his cheeks. She then thought of the expressive grey eyes they outlined and her heart beat a little faster.
Her fingers seemed to have a mind of their own as they lightly stroked the tiny laugh lines that emanated from those expressive eyes, making her smile to herself. Butterflies chose that moment to take up residence in her tummy as a collage of everything from Devon’s silly smirk to a full blown laugh paraded through her mind. How is it possible he has come to mean so much to me in such a short time?
“Because I am as much yours as you are mine.” She squeaked in surprise and then giggled as the arm he had draped across her waist tightened, pulling her tighter against his hard body.
Anya swatted his shoulder. “How long have you been lying there playing possum?”
With his eyes holding her captive, he leaned forward until their lips all but touched and whispered, “I’ll sleep when I’m dead. I don’t want to miss a second of having you in my arms.”
His lips touched hers and the fire she had seen burning in his eyes poured into her. She opened completely to the man she was sure she was meant to spend the rest of her life with and felt the incredible depth of his love and commitment. Their kiss went on and on until she was sure she would spontaneously combust until a knock at the door surprised them both.
“This better be good,” Devon growled against her lips.
“Wake up on the wrong side of the bed, lover boy?” He could hear the contained laughter in Rory’s voice.
“What do you want, Rory?” Devon’s growl was very pronounced, his chest rumbling under her fingertips.
“Don’t kill the messenger, dude. Rayne and Rian are waiting in the Great Hall with the others. They’ve been calling you for over an hour but apparently you’ve been incommunicado.”
“I swear privacy is a dirty word around here,” Devon grumbled under his breath, still holding her tight.
Anya buried her head in his chest to keep from laughing out loud at the conversation going on over her head, but her efforts were for naught when Rory answered, “We live in each other’s heads ninety percent of the time and you want privacy? What? Are you new here?”
“Rory!” Devon all but roared. Instead of frightening her as it would’ve before she’d met this wonderful group of dragons, it caused Anya to giggle uncontrollably, which made Devon’s chest jump against her cheek with his own barely contained laughter.
“I’m going…I’m going. But they’re just gonna send someone else or Heavens forbid…me again until you get your ass outta bed and get over there,” Rory complained.
“Go away, Rory. Tell them I’ll be there in a few minutes.” Devon commanded as he rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, Yeah, Yeah. I’ll tell them,” Rory muttered as she heard his retreating footsteps.
Anya almost felt bad for the other Guardsman but knew he was a smar
t ass and loved picking at anyone he could. Devon disturbed her thoughts and giggles with a kiss to the tip of her nose before pulling farther back from her. He paused for just a moment and just stared. Unable to bear his look, she looked down for a second, and when she looked up again he was still gazing at her, wearing a knowing a smile. When he spoke she could feel the emotion of his words to the depths of her soul. “I am absolutely the luckiest man in the world.”
She felt her cheeks warm from the emotion his words stirred within her. When she would’ve looked away again, Devon’s fingers held her chin captive and spoke with a reverence she had only heard uttered in a prayer, “believe my words, mo ghra’. From the moment I found you, you became my reason for living. The Universe may have made you but you are mine, and I am the happiest dragon alive for it.”
Tears gathered in her eyes and her heart beat faster than she ever imagined it could at his words of love and commitment, but it was his last statement that made her heart fill to near bursting. “All of my love…now…always…forever.” He sealed his pledge with just the touch of his lips to hers and in the next instant, much to her disappointment, was climbing out of bed.
Anya couldn’t stop grinning as she watched him pull jeans over his boxers and covered the chest her fingers itched to touch just one more time with a worn grey T-shirt. It was obvious Devon had noticed when he raised one eyebrow and the side of his mouth rose in an adorable smirk, but he confirmed it when he winked and asked, “Enjoying the show?”
She scooted up in the bed and crossed her arms behind her head, trying to portray a calm she didn’t feel. Furrowing her brow and pursing her lips like she was making a tough decision, Anya tried to keep the laughter from her voice when she answered, “Well, yes, I believe I am.”
Less than a heartbeat later, she found herself wrapped in his arms, breathless from the amazing kiss of her mate. Moaning deep in her throat and grabbing his shoulders to pull him closer, she poured all she felt for the amazing man she was fated to love forever into that one kiss. All too soon, Devon pulled back and Anya was happy to see he was as breathless as she. His voice was lower and more raspy than usual when he said, “I cannot wait for the rest of our lives together.”
He stopped and sighed, “Unfortunately, my brethren are giving me a headache with their continual bitching in my head.”
A quick kiss on her forehead as he returned her to bed and he was at the door. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, mo chroi’.”
She sighed as the door gently closed and smiled. Forever will never be long enough…
CHAPTER FIVE
Using his enhanced speed and cutting through all the wooded areas, Devon arrived at the Great Hall in just a few minutes. It wasn’t because every few seconds one or the other of his brethren were bellowing in his brain, although he was going to kick some ass when he saw them, it was completely and totally because he hated every minute that he was not with Anya. Every second in her presence made him love her more. It was as if he had known her forever, not just a few days.
Ready to kick ass and take names for being disturbed, Devon pushed open the huge double doors to the Great Hall and stomped in, only to be stopped in his tracks by the presence of not only the King of the Big Cats, but Carrick, the Head Elder of his clan. Deciding to play off his abrupt entrance, he called out, “I’m here, let the party begin.”
Unfortunately, both Aaron and Lance were in attendance, so his efforts were thrown by the wayside when they both cracked up causing everyone else to follow suit. Aaron was the first to recover and spoke as Devon made his way to the huge round table in the center of the enormous room, “Nice try, Slick.”
A slap on the back from Lance as he passed by was accompanied by, “She’s got you all tied up in your underwear.”
Before he could respond Rayne added, “Another one bites the dust.”
The Commander’s out of character comment triggered another round of laughter that only calmed when Carrick cleared his throat. The men gathered around as the Elder spoke. “I wanted to tell each and every one of you, especially Aaron and Aidan, that I understand how hard it is to hunt down one of your own. It is not what we as men or dragons ever want to do, but all too often it is a task we must undertake. May the Universe bless you with success.”
Devon watched as their regal Leader exited the building and wondered if he was talking about the rogue Carrick and his father had hunted down all those years ago. Max’s voice shoved thoughts of the past behind and Devon focused on the information the King and his guards were able to obtain.
“The pictures you gave us were incredibly accurate. Gotta love technology and all that shit. The only notable difference is the overgrowth of the foliage–but that is to our advantage as it provides excellent coverage. Raphael was also able to get a closer look at the security system and disabling it will be no problem. The only thing that might give us pause is access into the mansion itself. Every entrance is locked and magically warded except for a hidden entrance that I am sure leads to the basement. It’s completely covered with overgrown plants and vines. Something tells me nobody knows it even exists. All of my men agree that one small explosive would blow the door and clear the tunnel.”
“Hell, yeah,” Lennox cheered from across the table.
“You’ll have to excuse Lenn, he has a flair for explosions,” Rory chuckled while Rian and Kellan shook their heads.
Devon looked at the large Guardsman with spiky black hair and a wild look in his eyes and nodded, “It’s all you, Lennox. Just don’t blow us all to the Heavens.”
“Aye, just let me at ‘em.”
“Sounds like we have a plan. So, if there’s nothing else, I suggest everyone do what needs to be done and we’ll meet back here at nine tonight,” Rayne said and then turned to Max. “And we’ll see you and your crew at the abandoned Quicky Mart about ten miles from the property at ten thirty?”
“That you will,” Max answered, and Devon was once again amazed at the nonchalance with which the King did damn near everything, including planning to invade a fortress filled with crazy, half-trained wizards and a clearly deranged traitor.
Everyone went their separate directions and Devon headed out to the training pit. He had been keeping tabs on Anya through their mating link and knew she was happy and relaxed. So instead of heading back and spoiling her good mood with his nervous energy, he decided to train for an hour or two.
Striding into the barn and grabbing a broad sword, it dawned on Devon that for the first time he truly was nervous about a mission. He had no clue how many times he had flown, ridden, or run headlong into battle without a thought but to vanquish the enemy. His brethren teased that he was the ‘Zen Guardsman’, and until a few days ago that had been true. He had always been the voice of reason and the go-to guy for reassurance, but all of that changed the moment Anya had entered the picture.
He shook his head, psychoanalyzing himself, and it was then that he realized he still had his confidence, his inner peace, and his resolve that what he and his brethren were doing was absolutely honorable. The only thing that had changed was his undeniable need to return home after battle, to spend hundreds of years learning everything there was to know about the one the Universe had made for him.
Thankfully, Rian called out from across the pit, jerking Devon from his self-analysis. “Aye, Dev. Fancy a bit of sparring?”
Devon chuckled at the clan leader’s brogue. It seemed it only made an appearance when Rian was distracted or fighting. “You’re on,” he answered, swinging his sword to test the balance.
Rian advanced and within seconds they were engaged in a mock battle for their lives. The clash of the blades drew the other Guardsmen and trainees until a crowd formed around them, and Devon could see the other men making bets on who would bow out first. Never one to go down easily, he poured everything into each thrust of his sword.
The taunts started about an hour into their duel, but when Devon noticed Rian’s arm shaking he used it to his ad
vantage, and within minutes had the bigger and older Elder disarmed and standing at the end of his blade.
“Will you look at that shit, Roy? Dev, just spanked Ri but good. Guess I owe you fifty bucks,” Rory chuckled to Royce.
Rian put his fist over his heart; acting incredibly disheartened and in his best British accent, he crooned, “Et tu, Royce? Et tu?”
The entire pit erupted in laughter as Devon and Rian made their way back to the barn to clean their swords and grab something to drink. “You’ve gotten better with a sword than I remember, Devon.”
“Thanks Rian, but I think the last time we trained together was about fifty years ago. I’m sorry to say I’ve had more occasions than I care to admit to hone my skills–especially in the last few years.”
“Yeah, Andrew has definitely caused more than his fair share of trouble.” Rian paused and Devon could tell he was deciding whether to share something or not.
When the Elder spoke again his tone no longer held the levity from just moments before, “Carrick has asked Kellan and our Force to stay and assist with Andrew’s containment…and he requested I serve on the Tribunal.”
The tension in Rian’s body and the almost haunted tone of his voice said neither of those requests were welcomed but had been agreed to out of a sense of duty. Devon was just about to respond when Anya spoke directly into his mind. He smiled at the tentative tone to her voice, “Devon?”
“Yes, mo chroi’,” he answered while saying goodbye to Rian.
Her giggle made him smile as he almost jogged towards his mother’s home. “I just wondered what you were up to. Your mom is researching and the other girls went home…”
“And you’re bored?”
“Well…”
He received more than one questioning look when he laughed out loud for no apparent reason but really didn’t care, his mate was reaching out to him and he couldn’t be happier. “I’ll be right there, love.”