by Lolita Lopez
Resting her head against the wall, she picked up one of the sharp-edged rocks littering the cell floor and used it to scratch another line on her collection of tick marks. Every time she shared a dream with him, she made a start at the top of the new mark. Tonight, she drew a straight line across the bottom of the newest line to remind herself that she hadn’t made contact with him. It had been two nights since she had given him her message, and she hadn’t been able to reach him again.
Running her fingers along the many groups of marks, she felt helpless and frightened. She had planned to use them to keep track of her days in captivity but she couldn’t bring herself to count them up anymore. The despair of her totally shit situation threatened to reduce her to tears, but she refused to give that creepy woman shrouded in black the satisfaction of even one salty drop.
Ivy hadn’t seen the woman she had dubbed the Mind Miner since her third night in captivity, but she could feel the evil presence lurking somewhere in this abandoned prison. It hadn’t taken her very long to figure out that the Mind Miner wasn’t interested in digging through the memories of her happy childhood. No, she only wanted to get her eerie phantom fingers on the dreams about dragons and the men with swords.
Since childhood, Ivy had been plagued with bizarre and troubling dreams of bloody battles during ancient times. She had dreamed of historical eras with such incredible attention to detail and such vividness that they felt real. She could feel the wetness of the muddy battlegrounds under her bare feet. She could smell the metallic stink of blood spilled there. She could hear the clink of heavy swords slamming against the scaled hide of enormous fire-breathing and thunder-making dragons.
The many times she had awoken in tears, her parents had consoled her with assurances that the nightmares were simply the side effect of an overactive imagination and too many dark books or violent video games before bed—but Ivy had never believed it. Just as she never doubted her strange ability to see tiny glimpses of the future and to be able to influence others’ actions, Ivy had always believed those dreams of a bitter feud between the winged creatures and the armed warriors were more than figments of a childish imagination.
No, they were memories. She was beginning to understand that they weren’t the memories of one single person but many. Rubbing her forehead, she wondered if she would ever get the answers to all of her questions. Who were these dragons? Who were those warriors? What did this woman in black want with her?
Am I a dragon? Why is that nasty woman so interested in my dream connection with him?
Even though she was freezing, filthy, and exhausted, Ivy still experienced a wicked thrill of delight whenever she thought of the great big beast of a man who came to her dream world. With tattoos covering his brawny arms and wide chest, he looked so incredibly intimidating, but there was a kindness about him. He had a mischievous smile that instantly set her at ease.
Though he didn’t look very old, maybe twenty-seven or twenty-eight, his startlingly green eyes told a different story. He had seen a great deal of hardship and pain in his life, a life she suspected had stretched across a century or more. It sounded almost too fantastic to even think a man could live so long, but their shared dreams were equally as fantastic yet nonetheless real.
Yearning for the connection that brought her such peace during her imprisonment, Ivy closed her eyes and leaned her head against the cool stone. She breathed deeply and slowly and focused all of her thoughts on the handsome face that filled her dreams. If she could see him for even one minute, it would make the next day of captivity bearable.
Exhaustion dragged her down into the murky darkness of her dream space. Suddenly, she was flying. A swooping sensation rushed through her stomach and into her chest. She could feel the cool but humid air blasting her bare skin. The scent of the sea filled her nose. The flap of heavy wings echoed in her ears.
My wings, she realized. Just as she had brought that great big beast of a man into her dreams and pulled him into her body, he seemed to have finally done the same to her. Did he know? Was he aware of her presence? A rippling sensation in her chest confirmed that he did. She felt…surprised. She realized that he was the one feeling some shock at having her experiencing his dream. Only…
This wasn’t a dream. The thought hit her with a resounding thud. He was awake—and she was asleep. He was flying in his dragon form, and somehow she had drifted into his conscious. Something about his shifted form made him vulnerable to her. Curious, she thought with interest.
With a slow turn, the dragon began a controlled but angled descent. Even in the darkness, she could see the pale stone of the ancient prison looming ahead. Though his speed had slowed, he was still coming in exceedingly fast. When he landed on a rampart, she felt the stones shudder beneath his massive feet. A strange rumbling sensation rolled through her chest and out of her throat.
In the distance, she heard men shouting. Soon, bullets were whizzing by him and popping when they hit the stone wall behind him. She felt his wide, heavy wings unfurling. They flicked in a warning motion, but the armed men who came at him were undeterred. Stamping his foot, he smacked his wings together and an unbelievably loud thunderclap tore the night.
The shockwave of the blast tossed her right out of him. Floating in a bizarre space between reality and conscious, she hovered over him and then in front of him. Scarlet red and so very big, the dragon snarled viciously and beat his wings together, sending smaller bursts of that painful energy into the night. The thunderclaps rendered men unconscious. His attackers dropped to their knees and fell onto their faces.
He was winning! He was going to rescue her!
But her joy was short lived.
An agonizing bolt of electricity screamed through her neck. Though still unconscious in this dreamy haze, Ivy was fully aware that her captors were making use of the collar they had fitted around her neck at the time of her kidnapping to zap her in the most horrific way. The dragon tossed back his head, baring his vicious fangs, and roared with fury. He feels my pain.
Though she sensed the beast wanted to rip the men surrounding him limb from limb, he lowered his wings and let his arms fall to his sides. He surrendered reluctantly but quietly, his huge chest heaving and his talon-tipped fingers curling at his sides in tight fists. His strange red eyes closed, and she could hear him speaking to her.
Go. Wake. I’m coming for you.
A jolt of white-hot heat pierced her belly and caused Ivy to gasp. With a startled cry, she woke as directed. Though her neck burned, she felt the soothing heat inspired by the dragon—her dragon—spreading into her chest. It warmed and settled her nerves. Eyes closed, she concentrated on that familiar feeling. It was him. It was her Beast.
Grinning and feeling giddy despite her rather depressing circumstances, she kept her eyes tightly shut and tried to locate him. She had long ago learned to trust her instincts, and they told her that she belonged to this strange dragon-man hybrid. Somehow, someway, their paths were destined to cross. He might have appeared to her in a dream, but he had come to her now in the flesh.
Body thrumming and heart racing, she finally located him. He was like a bright pulsing dot on a radar screen, his very aura slamming against hers like a sonar ping. Fainter but just as nasty as ever was the presence of the Mind Miner. Ivy opened her thoughts to the creepy woman who had tormented her for more than twenty days and felt the most unexpected sensation—sheer delight. The old bat was absolutely thrilled that Beast had arrived.
Ivy feared that she was being held captive to lure and trap Beast here, but he was far wiser and too battle-hardened to do something so stupid. He wouldn’t walk into a trap without a plan to get them both out. It was silly of her to put so much faith in a man she had never even met in real life, but he was her only chance of surviving and escaping. She believed in him.
But, my God, the poor man was in a world of hurt at the moment. Her entire body ached and tingled. She could feel the pressure of punches and kicks slamming into her back and belly, but her
Beast seemed to be consciously trying to sever the bond between them so she wouldn’t feel the full brunt of the brutal assault. To protect me…
The fighting seemed to go on and on and on. When it finally stopped, she had tears running down her face. Beast had been defeated, but she had a sneaking suspicion he had allowed the people holding her captive to best him. Surely there had to be an easier way to gain access to her than letting a group of armed men beat the shit out of him, but he appeared to like doing things the hard way.
A short time later, the heavy door at the end of the cell block clanged and banged as it opened. Loud grunts and furious cursing, plus the sound of dragging feet, gave her all the clues she needed to fill in the blanks. Considering how big Beast appeared in her dreams, in real life he would be one hell of a monstrously sized man. It wouldn’t be easy to haul him anywhere, even with all the manpower guarding the old prison.
When she got her first glimpse of Beast, her heart fluttered wildly. She couldn’t see his face because his head hung low as he was dragged down the corridor, but that didn’t matter. He had made such an impression on her in their shared dreams that she easily recreated his handsome face from memory. While the strong edge to his jaw made him look dangerous, the seemingly perpetual lift to the corners of his sexy mouth gave him an approachable, friendly air. He reminded her of the jocks she saw around campus, all brawn and teasing smiles. There was a rugged appeal to him, especially with those thick, muscular arms and a chest that made her want to cuddle in close and share his heat.
Seeing him now, all naked and sweaty from his valiant fight, did wild things to her body. A primal burst of lust and need exploded within her. She caught his scent as the cell door was flung open. All her life, she had been more aware of smells than the average person, and tonight was no different. She had no trouble picking out the woodsy scent of him beneath the blood and sweat.
With a series of growls and a storm of cursing, the guards finally managed to toss Beast into the cell. He hit the stone floor hard and didn’t move. Fear gripped her. Was he dead? Was he fatally injured? He didn’t even move when a pair of shorts and a T-shirt were thrown at him.
Afraid the guards would zap her if she moved too close, she waited until the cell door had been locked to scuttle toward Beast, but the damned chains hooked to the cuffs on her ankles and wrists didn’t have enough slack to let her reach him. She jerked hard but didn’t have the strength to break them. They were too tight on her wrists to even try to slip them either.
The rattling chains seemed to rouse Beast. He issued a gruff, rumbling noise that seemed to emanate from deep within his chest. Planting both palms against the floor, he pushed up onto his hands and slowly lifted his head. A normal man would have sported two black eyes and a broken nose after the beating he had taken, but this man—her man—looked to be already healing. His cheek and jaw were swollen and red, and blood dripped from his nose but he seemed to have escaped his brush with violence without any broken bones.
Well. Maybe not.
When he started to crawl toward her, he grimaced and placed a guarding hand to his right side. The shadows hid whatever damage he had sustained trying to reach her. A couple of broken ribs wouldn’t have been out of the question. They didn’t seem to be slowing him down any as he crept toward her like some kind of hungry carnivore.
She gulped as the dark-haired behemoth prowled ever closer. Keenly aware of her naked state and his, she squeezed her thighs together and covered her breasts with her arms. His gaze narrowed at her protective move but he didn’t try to stop her. Those green eyes of his had shifted to a frighteningly crimson shade and his pupils were elongated and thin like a snake’s. Like a predator, he pinned her in place with a menacing stare. She felt like a mouse tossed into a boa constrictor’s cage. This man could save her—or snap her neck.
With the chains keeping her on a short leash, there was no escaping his advance. Beast halted only inches from her. His intense body heat simultaneously shocked and soothed her. She wanted to snuggle in close and soak up that radiant warmth. Maybe tuck her face into the curve of his throat and breathe in the intoxicating scent of him, too.
As if sharing her thoughts, Beast lunged at her, the movement so stunningly fast that she squeaked with surprise and fear. He buried his nose against the side of her neck and dragged it along her skin, inhaling deeply with the slow slide. He made the strangest noise, almost like a purr, and rubbed his nose against the side of hers. His chin rested on her shoulder and he leaned into her. “I found you.”
With trembling fingers, Ivy finally dared to touch his battered face. The brightest pop of light illuminated her mind. For the briefest of moments, she saw the two of them frolicking on a beach, splashing in waves and laughing as if carefree. When the vision faded, his palpable relief washed over her.
When he breathed in deeply again, it finally occurred to her that he was using scent to identify her instead of her looks. “Did my face look different in the dreams we shared?”
He nuzzled her cheek. “Faces can be faked with cloaking spells and potions. The Knights have used them in the past.” He breathed in noisily, as if to convince himself she was real. “Scents are impossible to replicate.”
Belly quivering with excitement, she boldly traced one of the heavy black tattoos arcing along the side of his neck and dipping down his shoulder. “Is that what they’re called? The Knights, I mean.”
He reared back and frowned down at her. “Didn’t you know?”
She shook her head. Her lower lip trembled as the stress of her weeks in captivity finally hit hard. “I don’t know anything. They just—they grabbed me in that club, jabbed some kind of drug into my neck, and then I woke up tied to a metal slab in another room in this prison.”
Beast’s jaw clenched when she gestured to her neck while telling him about the sedative. Was he remembering the way she had been shocked to make him stop fighting? When he reached out to touch the collar, she grabbed his wrist, stopping him before he could touch it. “Don’t. They’ll shock me again.”
His teeth ground together so loudly she expected him to spit out crumbled bits of them. He made that rumbling noise again, and her eyes widened as she felt the strong waves of it shudder through her. His mouth settled into an apologetic line. “I’m sorry. That’s my thunder.”
“Your what?”
Rising to a kneeling position, he sighed loudly. “Later.” He found the shorts nearby, stood slowly, and dragged them onto his body. He winced as he bent down to grab the shirt and made a grunting noise. Now that he had stepped into a shaft of light from the corridor outside their cell, she could see the damage to his body.
“Oh my God! Your ribs!” She couldn’t believe he was able to breathe with all that terrible bruising and the dimpled ridges where the bones were obviously broken. “We need to bind those or something.”
“They’ll be healed by morning.” He ripped the T-shirt up both sides. “I’m too old to be badly hurt by a beating. It would take one of the Knight’s swords to kill me, and there aren’t any here.”
Her head swam as he tossed around the details as if she should know them. “Knights? Swords?”
“Let’s get you dressed first.” Beast draped the shirt over her head. He gave the heavy metal links a shake. “I could easily break these chains, but they’ll probably use this damn collar to shock you if I do.” Lowering his voice, he asked, “Are there cameras here?”
“No. They have them in the halls though. The Mind Miner—”
“The who?” He tied the ends of the ripped shirt together on each side to form a loose sort of dress on her.
“The woman in black who likes to dig through my head.” She gulped anxiously and tried to ignore the pulsing, primal heat that blossomed in her center. Her breasts ached and her nipples buzzed. He hadn’t even really touched her yet, and already she wanted to break her number-one rule and beg him to do wicked, wicked things to her.
“We call her the Seer. Every generat
ion of the first family produces one female gifted with the sight.”
“What is the ‘first family’?”
Beast moved into the corner and sat back against the wall, using it to support his weary body. He opened his arms and gestured to his lap. “Come here, little bit. You’re freezing, and I’m warm. The dragon within me is snapping to be set free. Holding you will ease that torment and help me maintain control.”
She hesitated. Crawl onto his lap? Let him hold her? She had this torn shirt for modesty but she was completely bare underneath. Her gut told her he would do nothing to harm her or take advantage of her. The man had taken a beating and let himself be taken captive and all he wanted to do was hold her close. That wasn’t so bad. Was it?
“All right.” She moved closer and settled onto his lap. “What about your ribs?”
“I’ve had worse, sweetheart.” He wrapped those incredibly muscled arms around her and pulled her in tight. “Let me warm you.”
Oh, he was getting her hot all right. “My name is Ivy,” she said, thinking of the way he had addressed her with pet names. “In case you didn’t get my message.”
“I did. It came through loud and clear.” He brushed her tangled hair behind her ear and tilted her chin up. “You’re very smart, Ivy, and very powerful.”
“I don’t know about that last part. I think I was lucky.”
“Luck may have played a part, but there’s a great deal of potential inside you.” He tapped her chest. “There’s a reason the Knights are holding you here.”
“And you,” she said with a frown. “I had hoped you would bring reinforcements and bust me out of this hellhole.”
“Give it some time.” He rested his head against the wall and tugged her in even closer. “They’ll come soon.”
“Who? The other dragons?”
“The Brotherhood of the Green Hide,” he clarified. “We’re the ancient order tasked with protecting the dragons from the Knights of St. George.”
“What? Like the story from Bible school?”