Dragon's Oath (Northbane Shifters Book 5)

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Dragon's Oath (Northbane Shifters Book 5) Page 12

by Isabella Hunt


  Thrown by her use of my first name for the first time, I didn’t realize she’d stolen my coffee until she took a sip from it. “Hey,” I growled. “I’m adding thievery to your rap sheet.”

  “Xander, your voice is shredded, you’ve got canyons under your eyes, and you are swaying.” Tiani suddenly took the bulk of papers and notebooks from under my arm. “Is this more work?”

  “We’ve got an old Skror faction trying to kidnap shifters,” I muttered. “I need to—”

  “You need to delegate,” she said. “And you need sleep.”

  “Tellin’ me how to run my territory?” I asked, tipping up an eyebrow.

  I couldn’t deny the couch was extremely comfortable, and my entire body was sinking into it like a stone in water. Everything had a bit of a tipsy feeling, the colors bleeding into each other.

  Except Tiani. She glowed bright and crisp, making everything around her dull.

  “Yes,” Tiani said with a toss of her head. “Someone has to.”

  “You’re a real piece of work,” I muttered. “Give me back my coffee.”

  “No.” Tiani sipped it and sighed. “You saved my life. Again. This is the least I can do.” Her eyes met mine. “And say thank you. I didn’t want to admit it, but Iris was right. I would have died if I hadn’t run into you that night.” I gaped at her. “Yeah, enjoy it while it lasts, Bane.”

  “We’re past that,” I said. “It’s Xander, now, you hear me?”

  “Yeah, okay,” Tiani said with a small smile. “Xander.”

  “I’m not sure I did save your life, though,” I said slowly. “I mean, I didn’t know that stupid thing was poisoned. The knife, I mean.” A yawn interrupted me, and I rubbed my face. “Should’ve smelled it. All this damn advanced olfactory, and I can’t even detect a poisoned knife.” Now my eyes were drooping shut. “Or that you were bleeding. You’ve got a good game face, Elkhadi.”

  “I do.”

  “That being said, you can give me my coffee now.”

  “I don’t think so,” Tiani said and held it out of reach. “You need to sleep.”

  “Quick nap, sure.” For a moment, I let myself sink into a half-sleep and then sighed, rousing myself. “All right. Fully rested.”

  “What?” Tiani laughed, and the sound warmed me. “Get out of here.”

  “No, give me that coffee.” I looked at her and saw she was finishing it off. “Tiani.”

  “Xander,” she replied in a sing-song voice. “Go to bed. You look like hell.”

  Suddenly, I was very aware of the state of grime and unkemptness I was in. A veritable caveman compared to Tiani. Glancing down, I saw the dried blood on the bandages and grimaced.

  "You're a dragon, not a god, for Pete's sake. You're not—what did you do to your hand?" There was a clink of porcelain as she put the mug down, and her fingers were on my skin. A jolt went through me, waking me up more than caffeine could ever hope to. One of her hands curled around my fingers, and the other skimmed the top edge of the bandage. “Was there another fight?”

  In spite of myself, I grinned a little. “Not a fair one.” Tiani gave me an inquiring look, so I admitted, “I might have punched the asshole who had the balls to poison you.”

  A smile lit up her face. “Did you? Must have been a hell of a punch. Little surprising from cool, collected, and by-the-rules Xander Bane.”

  “Hey, you know I’m not always cool and collected,” I protested. There was a moment of silence, and I realized I’d shoved us into awkward territory. The last time I’d lost control, I’d pinned her to a tree and then thrown her in a holding cell. “Uh…”

  “Oh, good,” Tiani said and squeezed my hand. Another and stronger jolt went through me. “We’re at the point where we can joke about it. And yeah, that’s how I know it takes a lot to rattle you. Ever since then, you’ve been impossible to read.”

  “Trying to read me, huh?” I asked, enjoying the softness of her skin, her scent, and this strange, perfect moment. “Yeah, I usually have to be damn careful of what I say, do, and hell, even think. Used to be an open book.” I waved my other hand at my face. “Can’t, though.”

  “I get that.” Tiani shook her head. “It’s a shame on one hand, and kind of fun on the other.”

  “Oh, really?” Then I half-laughed, half-snorted. “You would. Get it, I mean. I don’t know why I bother keeping jack from you.” I couldn’t seem to stop rambling. “Always seem to be figuring it out. Or trying to. And if you’re not doing that, you’re off running into random raiding parties.”

  “Poisoning is a new one for me, I admit,” she said, but her smile was troubled.

  “Hope you don’t think I blame you,” I said softly. “I should’ve reacted faster.”

  “Beylore explained,” Tiani replied. “Don’t apologize. Please.”

  Her lashes dropped, and both of us fell silent, her hands still holding mine. There was a tension rising, one I couldn’t understand and didn’t exactly like. Then Tiani let me go, and a small ache of loss went through me. She stood up and put her hands on her hips.

  “If you’re not gonna sleep, what do you want for breakfast, dragon-boy?”

  “Uh, well,” I said and tried not to take in the fact that Tiani was wearing a tank top, shorts, and possibly nothing else. Especially since her curves were within arm’s reach. I knotted my fists in my lap to keep from wrapping my hands around them and finding out. “I’m not hungry.”

  “You don’t eat or sleep?” Tiani asked and scowled at me. “Fine, cook’s choice.”

  “You can cook?” I asked.

  “Don’t be an ass, Bane,” Tiani replied and sashayed away. “I can crack a few eggs.”

  Sitting up, I reached forward for one of the document piles, then swung my legs up and stretched out over the full length of the couch. Resting my neck against the armrest, I plucked at the strings tying it together and slid the papers free of the protective canvas.

  There was a small clatter from the kitchen, and I tilted my head back to look over. Tiani was standing there, pulling her hair up and frowning, I thought. She was in profile, so it was hard to gauge her expression. She then stepped forward and began to quietly assemble what she needed for our breakfast. Mine and Tiani’s. Our breakfast. Why was I savoring that more than the thought of food?

  Watching her was giving me a crick in my neck, but I couldn’t stop. She looked as though she belonged there. That had me sitting up.

  An unsettling sense was coming over me again, that little voice murmuring something I needed to know, but I couldn’t hear the words or even get the gist of them.

  She turned and caught me looking at her, her lips parting in surprise and her eyes widening. My mouth dry, my fingers tightened on the back of the couch, and I almost launched myself over it.

  But then Tiani lifted a hand in surprise to her chest, and a stab of pain went through my head. A grunt escaped me, and I put a hand to my forehead, a terrible headache coming on. Shit, this was the last thing I needed.

  “Here.” I looked up to see Tiani standing over me with a cup of water and a vial. “Beylore showed me where all the painkillers were. Seemed wise.”

  “Thanks,” I said and took it, noticing Tiani was rubbing her left wrist. As I drank, I narrowed my eyes at it and nodded. “Sore?” I asked as I finished and leaned over to place the glass on the table. It gave me an unobstructed view of her arm as she looked down and lifted her hand.

  “Oh no,” Tiani said and met my eyes again. I was already looking at her face. “Itchy.”

  “Cold water,” I said, a little absently. “Or eucalyptus. Winter dries me out, too.”

  “Fancy man,” she said lightly and made her way back to the kitchen.

  I frowned and tapped a thumb against my own wrist. Tiani’s wrist was bare. But I couldn’t shake the strangest sense that for a second, I’d seen the flash of a bracelet.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Tiani

  “Oh no.”

  The words exhaled
from between my lips on a too-long breath that left me bereft of gravity. A slow chord thrummed up my spine, like tentative and sweet, shaking fingers finding their place on the strings of a song long ignored. Self-preservation kept me upright, but the hungry wild child was trembling. If there hadn’t been a table nearby, I would’ve dropped the plate I was holding.

  As it was, I had to set it down and press my hands to it, trying to orient space and time back to where they belonged. But my heart had kicked off into orbit, and I wasn’t sure what was worse—the descent or letting it flutter to heights unknown.

  Sinking my teeth into my lower lip, I let my heart continue upward for a moment and turned back around. This time, though, I took in the sleeping man stretched out on the couch slowly. My eyes went from the big and sturdy feet swathed in plaid knit socks—the latter incongruous with the camo pants hugging his muscular thighs—to the swells of his six-pack under his rumpled shirt. Up a bit more, to his thick knuckles wrapped in a length of bloodied bandage, both fists curled on top of his broad chest, together rising and falling with his deep breathing. And, finally, to his sleeping face.

  Dizziness stirred up my nerves, every last one prickling with scorching heat.

  I’m in way over my head.

  So much for thinking I’d walk away unscathed. Nothing I couldn’t handle. I’d been in worse positions before, right? Getting locked in mountain cells listening to Lind’s cackle echo off the walls, or, oh, making deals with the fork-tongued fool, Orion. Even pissing off the dragon of Winfyre had been a cakewalk in retrospect.

  No, I knew the danger would be getting too comfortable in Winfyre. Leaving Iris would be hard enough, so I knew I had to be careful about forming attachments. Had to tell myself to enjoy the here and now, but not to make any friendly overtures to anyone.

  I hadn’t been worried about Xander. Sure, I’d be lying to myself if I pretended I wasn’t attracted to him. He was always handsome—intensely so. From his height to his big hands to that infuriating face. Those sharp lines of his cheekbones and jaw were like dashes of charcoal.

  But Xander was also remote. A granite sculpture on top of a mountain, gorgeous and enticing, but out of reach. It was a necessary distance for him as a leader.

  One I’d been glad of, too. I could handle Xander at a distance. That Xander was the one who’d trussed me up with ease and interrogated me, the one who snarled about secrets. I’d stared that dragon down in the forest when he pinned me against a tree. Or, subsequently, anytime he thought he could boss me around.

  I knew I was no slouch in what I brought to the table, both in looks and kicking ass. I was a fighter, a survivor. I ate arrogant Alpha shifters for breakfast.

  Xander knew it, too. I’d seen it in the few times he’d honestly had no idea how to handle me.

  No, what scared me were the rare glimpses I saw outside the ice-cold, constrained, and capable Alpha of the Northbane. The ones that pulled me in for a closer look.

  Usually, Xander vanished or shut down before I could get any closer, though.

  Until this moment, with him fast and unintentionally asleep. Here, his lines were looser, leaving me room to slip in and figure him out. Unravel the conflicts in him. Bring those brief moments of deep emotion up to the surface. Stir up his passionate, stern, and vulnerable side. Urge him to let that Alpha predator out, too. Revel in his contradictions.

  Hell, who could recognize that need to hold people away from your heart better than I could? It was a cold blend of self-preservation and pragmatism, a stubborn and proud loneliness.

  My heart twisted and flamed, ambushed. I wanted to split myself open, erase my lines, and envelop him. I was both starving and content, hot and cold, exhilarated and terrified.

  Because this Xander—this Xander was within reach. I could start to piece him together.

  Or let him pull me apart.

  Without realizing it, I’d leaned into the back of the couch and hovered over him.

  Memorizing. Cherishing. Wishing.

  A strange, almost childish thought occurred to me—what happens when the princess kisses the sleeping prince? Does she save him? Or condemn him?

  I pressed a shaking hand to my mouth and closed my eyes as an unbearable ache went through me. One I didn’t want to name or notice how it caused my knees to buckle.

  Or wonder why it left a bitter hungriness at the edges of my tucked-away heart.

  Eventually, I got a grip on myself. Taking in a deep and silent inhalation, I straightened and went to find the man a blanket. I wanted to do that much. Maybe keep a secret eye on him, too. Whatever else, messy feelings and debts aside, I owed him that much.

  After retrieving a warm quilt, I tucked him in, a bit carelessly. My hand brushed against his jaw by mistake, and a prickle of nervous energy went through me. He didn’t stir.

  Looking at his still face, it occurred to me that I’d never done this before. For anyone.

  Going to fuss with the blanket again, suddenly worried I’d done it wrong, the bracelet around my left wrist bit into my skin. Agony shot up my arm in an icy-cold burst.

  Stumbling back, I cradled it to my chest, my lips pressed together to stifle a yelp of pain. Looking down at my wrist, I studied the bracelet’s dull metal, my heart squeezing in my chest. My ears were ringing from that pulse of agony, and I was shaking from head to toe. In a rush, terror flooded me. A cold and oily terror, drowning the sparks under my skin.

  Had that really just happened? And if it was happening, if the bracelet had reacted for whatever reason, then I had to ask myself—did Orion know?

  Was this his plan all along? To somehow get me here and close to Xander? Entangle our fates so I could unwittingly snare him? And, even though Orion was gone, was I playing into it?

  Finally, I lifted my eyes and looked at Xander again. Pressure built up behind my eyes. I wanted to scream; I wanted to run out the front door and escape. I also wanted to throw myself at Xander, slip under the blankets, and rest my head on that chest rising and falling. Count his heartbeats as he held me. All of that went through me, and I turned, abruptly. Swallowed it whole.

  It could burn and blister in my belly for all I cared. I'd never fall into a moment of weakness like that again. In a few weeks, I'd be gone, and Xander would never know.

  He can never know.

  The next few days kept testing my resolve in unexpected ways.

  First, I met the rest of Xander’s pack and their families at a last-minute dinner at Laia’s and Rett’s home. I had been over at Iris’s, and she’d invited me to come with her and Kal.

  At first, I’d declined. But once Iris made up her mind, it was impossible to dissuade her. She’d worn me down within ten minutes, a bit of a record on her part. But the truth was, I didn’t have the heart or energy to argue. I hadn’t been sleeping well, and I was also hungry.

  Dinner was a comfortable, chaotic affair, with kids underfoot, loud laughter, and banter. Instead of feeling like I was on the outside of things, I was right in the middle. Iris and I helped Laia and Rett in the kitchen as people trickled in.

  It was refreshing, the bustle, the smell of good food in the air, and the simplicity of a night spent with friends. The rest of the pack and the kids had swung in and out, the former asking if they could help while the latter tried to sneak snacks.

  I’d found myself relaxed and happy, under the influence of Iris and her friends. Problems were far away and for tomorrow. Everyone was nice, conversation was casual, and Xander wasn’t there. At first.

  Then, because this seemed to be a new habit with me, I turned around and nearly dropped the bowl I was holding. He’d finally shown up and was standing in the kitchen behind me, resting his big shoulders against the wall and holding Caleb, Reagan and Luke’s toddler. Caleb was grabbing at Xander’s shirt and rubbing his face in it, making happy sounds.

  It was just the three of us, and, for some reason, I had the strangest feeling Xander had been here, quietly observing me for a few moments. That thou
ght strangled my throat as my cheeks went pink. I still had no idea if I’d even said hello. The noise from the rest of the house was oddly far away.

  Xander had gone to say something when Caleb lifted his head and began babbling in earnest. Xander looked down at him with absolute and reverent attention, nodding along.

  It smote my stupid heart.

  He looked so relaxed for a change, even wearing something besides his usual camo or black. A nice, navy blue thermal shirt that strained over his shoulders and soft, worn jeans.

  My fingers itched to feel the contrast of his hard thighs under those jeans.

  Xander glanced up at me, and a small smile flickered across his face. That’s when I realized I’d been staring at him for a good minute or so. Flustered, I backed up and knocked a platter out of Iris’s hands. She’d snuck into the kitchen behind me.

  Thankfully, the resultant hubbub and cleanup brought Laia and Reagan in. Once we’d cleaned up, I fled, taking a seat by Sierra and Tristan, happy to escape into their chatter so I could avoid spiraling further into those kinds of thoughts about Xander.

  Not so thankfully, I caught Iris giving me an inquiring look at several points during the dinner. Ones that I’d avoided with marginal success so far. Though she hadn’t had the opportunity to yet, I knew she was going to ask me about Xander.

  And I wasn’t sure what to say.

  Because, second, the day after the dinner, I woke up and came downstairs to find Xander asleep at the table and a pile of papers in front of him. As before, seeing him asleep did something to the vulnerable pressure point of my heart. I’d raged for a second, tempted to kick his chair and wake him up. But, after taking a deep breath, I made coffee, got a hold of myself, and roused him.

  Then I told him to tell me how I could help.

  Hard to say who was more surprised.

  But I needed to do something instead of spinning in circles and watching Xander work too hard. I spent the day helping him and learning the ropes of Winfyre. It turned out to be more interesting than I expected. We worked late into the night, getting a little punchy towards the end.

 

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