by Lynn Lorenz
Once that made it to the table, she’d go to the living room to get Leon.
Her plan was to tell him over dinner. Ply him with margaritas before and sangria during and then spring it on him. Hopefully, he’d be in such a good mood he’d accept it without much fuss.
She stopped in her tracks and laughed. Maybe the alcohol was kicking in.
Had she lost her mind?
She was about to tell her fiancé she’d been married to a werewolf and had his children, two of whom were also werewolves, and her daughter was married to one also.
In this case, love needed to be deaf, dumb and gullible enough to believe her. And with none of the boys here, how would she ever prove it to him, if he needed proof?
She groaned. Okay, so her plan wasn’t foolproof.
Of course, he’d need evidence. You just didn’t say, “We can shift into wolves,” without some proof. If her daughter-in-law Rebecca’s experience had taught Carrie anything, it was people needed proof.
Maybe getting everyone out of the house had been a bad idea. She hadn’t thought of the proof problem, only of being alone with him to tell him. The kids wouldn’t be back until after ten tonight. She’d sent them all out to the movies and dinner.
Honestly, she hadn’t wanted her kids to see her fiancé dump her. She didn’t think she could handle that, putting herself out there, only to have her entire family witness Leon walk away.
She’d be crushed.
Jake would go nuts. She didn’t want to think of what he might do to Leon, if that happened.
And Russ? He’d become so dear to her in three short months. He’d be right behind Jake, backing him up with Tori cheering the men on.
Leon didn’t stand a chance.
Her belly flip flopped and suddenly the wine and margarita didn’t feel like a good idea at all.
It had to be done. No way around it. And Father Peter wouldn’t marry them if Leon didn’t know, and the good father would ask. For sure. No way out of it.
Carrie took a deep breath and went to the living room.
“Dinner is served!” she announced a bit too loudly.
Leon looked up and smiled. “I thought we’d talk a bit before dinner.”
“Well, it’s all done and if we let it sit…” She didn’t want to do that at all. “Can’t we talk at dinner?”
“Sure.” He rose and put his empty glass down.
She held out her hand and he took it as she almost dragged him to the dining room.
* * * *
Carrie made small talk as they ate. Leon made all the right noises as he devoured the enchiladas, complementing her cooking and her presentation, but something was off.
Her knee bounced under the table as she tried to guess what was up.
Leon had said he wanted to talk about something, but so far he hadn’t brought anything up. Carrie was sure he wanted to confirm where they were going to live and she knew she was going to have to own up to her decision. She was staying put.
No way would she leave her grandkids to live in Baton Rouge. He’d just have to accept it. She didn’t know how she’d change his mind, but she had to take a stand. Tori and Russ were just starting their family, and as matriarch, she had a leading role to play.
Leon would understand, once he knew, she was positive.
They finished dinner and she cleared the table. When she returned from the kitchen, she brought the flan she’d made and a pot of coffee. Carrie sat and poured Leon a cup.
“You wanted to talk?” Might as well get him started. If he stayed past her telling him where they would live, then she’d tell him all about her family’s secret.
If he stayed after that?
He cleared his throat as he doctored his coffee. “Well, yes.” He leaned forward, his elbows on the table, the delicate china cup held in his hands. “I’ve told you about my family. About their history in China. But I’ve left something out. Something big.” He flushed, the pink tipping his ears.
“Big? Like your family is Chinese mafia?” She laughed, and heard the unsteadiness of it.
He smiled and put the cup down. Shifted the handle to the side, then moved it back. “No.” He exhaled. “Do you believe there are things we can’t always explain? Things that might seem unnatural to some, but part of other’s lives?”
“Like ‘more things in heaven and earth?’ Those kinds of things?” she asked. Where was he going with this?
“Exactly. China has a very long history. Longer perhaps than any culture and it’s filled with many, many tales and legends.”
Legends? Hey, that was her line. Just what was going on here?
She nodded as she clenched her cup in her hands. She didn’t dare to bring it to her lips for fear her shaking hands would spill every drop.
“One of the most famous is of the dragons. We Chinese have many types of dragons—river, wind, mountain, forest—each with their own stories and powers.”
Carrie frowned, knitting her brows together. What was he trying to say?
“My family … comes from a long line of … dragons,” he whispered, as if afraid to say it aloud, as if it wouldn’t sound so strange.
“Dragons?” Carrie blinked at him. He was descended from dragons? Seriously?
She stared at him as he looked down at his cup and then his gaze came up to meet hers and she saw the truth. He believed this completely. Utterly.
He was a dragon?
And she was worried about telling him they were werewolves?
Carrie couldn’t help herself as a laugh bubbled up out of her. Okay, the alcohol was working again.
Leon’s face fell.
“No! Wait!” She reached for him, but he jerked away, hurt written all over him.
“Carrie. I’m trying to tell you something very serious and important to me and you’re laughing?” He looked away as he ran his hand over his face.
Carrie’s heart broke. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, it’s just…” She sighed. “Dragons? Really?”
He nodded, but didn’t speak. No words were getting past those thin, tight lips.
And Carrie knew she’d made a terrible mistake.
Chapter 3
“I want to get this clear. Did you just tell me you’re a dragon?” Carrie asked.
“Yes.”
“A real dragon? Fire breathing? Scales? Treasure hidden in a cave?”
“Yes. I’m a forest dragon. We don’t usually breathe fire since we live in forests. But we can, for protection.” Leon spoke about it as if he were discussing why he chose to buy one car over the other.
Carrie’s mind spun. Leon believed he was a dragon.
And not just any dragon, a forest dragon.
What if it was true? What if he was a dragon? They were werewolves. No difference, right?
“So, you have a dragon shape? You can change at will?” she asked.
His eyes lit up with hope and she read it plain as day.
“Yes. Although I don’t shift very often. Only in my house when I’m alone.”
“So if I asked you to shift, you could?”
He nodded. “Sure. I knew you’d want proof. And I knew you wouldn’t think I’m out of my mind.”
“Oh no. I’m the last person who’d tell you that you’re nuts.” She snorted. If he only knew. Well, he’d know soon enough and then it’d be his time to gawk at her and think she was crazy.
“Well. Okay, then.” He stood and pushed back his chair. “I have two forms. One is full size and I haven’t used it in ages. With nowhere safe for me to shift into it, since it’s so large, it’s harder. It needs a lot of space. But the smaller one, roughly my size, I can show you that.”
“Would you rather do this in the living room?” Carrie wanted him as comfortable as possible. And if he didn’t shift, well, he’d be closer to the front door.
She didn’t care if he was a dragon, but she cared if he lied to her, especially about this.
He nodded and she led the way out of the dining room and d
own the hall to the front of the house.
“Okay,” she said once she’d settled on the couch. “Shift.”
Leon stepped back. “Before I do, I wanted to say something to you, Carrie. I love you. I’ve been alone, hiding who I am for ages. Literally. Until I met you. You make me want to tell you the truth, take a chance that you’d love me, despite it. I know this is hard to take in, but it’s really hard for me to expose myself like this.”
“I understand.” She gave him what she hoped would be an encouraging smile.
Leon smiled back. “Don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you in this form. I understand everything you say, even if I can’t speak to you.”
“All right.” Carrie grabbed the cushions of the couch as if they would keep her grounded. “I’m good, Leon.”
He closed his eyes and the air shimmered around him. No vibrations in the air, like when her sons shifted, but there was something else. A heaviness. Magic.
A green-scaled dragon stood in her living room.
“Thank God!” She slumped back against the couch.
The creature tilted its head at her.
Carrie put her hand to her throat and laughed. “I’m so relieved. I didn’t want you to fail. I didn’t want to send you away.”
Leon stared at her. Golden eyes with round dark pupils, long whiskers, a long snout with large nostrils and a pair of tiny ears. His chest and belly were pale yellow, and the green scales shimmered in the light of the overhead chandelier. The long length of his body undulated from his forelegs to his rear legs and down his long tail. No wings.
So he couldn’t fly.
“You’re just beautiful, Leon.” And he was. Stunning. “I think you’re the most beautiful dragon I’ve ever seen.”
He huffed.
“Okay, you’re the only dragon I’ve ever seen. Doesn’t make you any less beautiful.”
He shook his head at her.
“You don’t have wings. I thought all dragons could fly.”
He scratched at the carpet with the claws on his foreleg.
The air shimmered and got heavy again.
Leon reappeared in his human shape.
“I can fly. We’re magical. I don’t need wings.” He put his hands on his hips and frowned.
“I much prefer this version of you.” She smiled. “Handsome.”
*
He stared at her, mouth open. “That’s it? You’re okay? Not scared? I’m a dragon and you’re cool with that?”
“Oh, honey. If you only knew.” She giggled and rushed to envelop him in her arms. She kissed him, pressing their mouths together and his cock filled in response.
“I’m so … relieved?” He didn’t know what to say. She hadn’t reacted the way he’d thought she would. Like no one had in the few times he’d revealed himself to others.
“Why are you so accepting? Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy you’re not screaming your head off, beating on me or throwing me out. But I don’t get it.” He held her at arm’s length and looked into her eyes.
“Well, I’ve got something to tell you, and once you hear it, you’ll understand.”
He let her go. “Go ahead.”
She patted the sofa and he sat down next to her. She took his hand in hers and gave it a tender squeeze.
“My family, the McCallan’s? We’re werewolves. Shifters. Have been for generations.” She smiled at him.
“Werewolves? I thought they were legends?” He gaped at her.
She laughed. “Legends? Coming from a dragon?”
Leon couldn’t help but join in her laughter, until the thought crossed his mind she was having him on. Teasing him. And the laugh died on his lips.
“Caroline. That’s not funny. I’m serious.”
“So am I. Michael was a wolf shifter, and I knew it when I married him. Jake and Trey are werewolves also, and so is Russ. And I’m their matriarch. Jake is leader of the pack, our alpha, but I play a big part too, unofficially.”
“But you can’t shift forms?”
“Nope.” She shrugged. “None of the females can. Only males.”
He leaned back and stared at her, and then a small smile crept over his face.
“So, you have no proof. Just your word, right?” He arched an eyebrow at her.
“Well … uh, no. I can’t change. But Jake and Russ can.”
“And you arranged for them to be gone. How convenient.” He crossed his arms over his chest and smirked at her.
“They’ll be home at ten.” She glanced at her watch. “Just a few hours.”
“So we just sit here and wait for them to show?”
Carrie read his look right, because she blushed and leaned forward. “I can think of something else to do?”
“Really? Funny, so can I.” He reached for her, wrapping a hand around her neck and pulled her to him. She stiffened, then gave in, and met his mouth with hers.
“Carrie,” he murmured as he kissed her.
She sighed and opened her mouth to his tongue. They kissed, letting the fire inside them ignite and spill out.
His cock stiffened, drawing all his blood to it, as she pulled him down on top of her. He moved to cover her, trapping her legs with both of his, and threaded their fingers together.
He deepened the kiss and Carrie arched into him, moaning so sweetly he nearly came. He prayed to the old gods Carrie wasn’t going to change her mind and stop things from following their natural course—him inside her at last.
Chapter 4
Carrie moaned as Leon’s weight pushed her into the sofa.
Good Lord, he was going to ravage her on the good furniture.
And Carrie couldn’t wait. Something inside her just broke free and need bubbled up, hot and heady, swamping everything she felt at that moment.
Perhaps it was knowing Leon’s secret. Perhaps it was knowing he was just like her, or her family, that is. Knowing he had a secret so deep and terrible he’d kept it bottle up for ages. Until he met her.
And felt safe enough to tell her.
And she knew the feeling that had been knocking around inside her chest whenever Leon was near was the same thing—safe. I’m safe.
Leon gave her that feeling. And the other one aching between her legs.
How long had she missed that glorious feeling?
Since Michael died, that’s how long.
A twinge of guilt crossed her mind. But she tossed it off her like a too-heavy coat.
She was going to let Leon have his way with her and enjoy every moment of it.
Carrie closed her eyes and let herself just feel.
She felt Leon’s hands as he skimmed them down her side and cupped her butt. Gave it a squeeze. Kissed her deeper. She pushed up with her hips and felt his erection. Thank God he could perform. She didn’t know exactly how old he was, but she had no idea if an ancient dragon’s sex drive had a shelf life.
His thrust against her. Nope. No shelf life. Oh Lord.
She clutched at his shoulders and broke their kiss long enough to whisper, “My bed.”
He growled, deep and low, and for a moment, it reminded her of Michael. She closed the door on guilt. Michael was dead. Leon was alive and here.
She was alive.
He rolled off her, much more nimbly than she expected and scooped her up in his arms.
“Leon!” she gasped and tightened her arms around his neck, amazed at his strength.
“Which way?” A fire burned in his eyes as he gazed into hers and she knew it would be near impossible to stop him. But she also knew if she said stop, he would.
“Down the hall. The door on the right.”
He strode off, carrying her, until he reached the door.
“This is my apartment.”
“Apartment?” He frowned down at her.
She let go of him and reached around to open the door. He pushed through and stepped into her rooms.
“Each of the floors has two full apartments. The house is meant to hold multiple families. The
pack.” She barely got the words out before he kicked the door shut behind him.
This was a part of Leon she’d never seen before, but she recognized it for what it was—pure alpha.
Her taste in men hadn’t changed in all these years.
Alphas just did it for her, always had. Always would. And now she was going to marry Leon and…
“Oh my God!” she exclaimed.
“What?”
“There’re going to be three alphas living under the same roof?”
“Alphas?” His brows knitted together.
“Yeah. Pack leaders. Jake, Russ and you.”
He frowned and then looked around. “That the bedroom?” He jerked his chin at a door.
“Yes.”
“Good. Bed now. Talk later.” He looked down at her. “And we will talk, Carrie.”
“Of course, Leon.” She batted her lashes at him.
“Oh no! Don’t try that on me.” He growled and without another word, he took her to her bedroom, through the door and came to a stop at her bed.
“Leon—” Before she could say another word, he tossed her onto the bed and climbed on after her.
She scooted up, resting her back against the plush upholstered headboard and never broke eye contact with him.
“I’ve waited for so long for you, Carrie. Wanted you for so long.” He ran his hand up her leg. “Too many clothes.”
And Carrie realized she’d have to take her clothes off. Get naked. In front of Leon. She swallowed and willed her hands to start unbuttoning her blouse, but they didn’t listen to her.
Leon didn’t have the same problem as she did, because he almost ripped off his shirt, baring his chest.
A full color tattoo of a dragon, just like him, spanned his chest. Around his developed upper arms tree branches wound, a few green leaves sprouting here and there.
She had the urge to lick him. Everywhere she could find the ink.
Beneath the tattoo, his skin stretched over muscles, more muscles than a man his age should have by law. She whimpered.
This man was hers? For the rest of her life?
His dark straight hair, with only a few streaks of gray, usually kept so neat and combed, fell over his forehead, nearly masking his intense dark eyes.