Dragon Seeker
Part Two
Carina Wilder
Contents
1. Foreword
2. Introduction
3. Steps
4. Desperation
5. Twins
6. Cursed Perfection
7. Truth
8. Surrender
9. Closer
10. Needs
11. Mending
12. Back to the Heath
Also by Carina Wilder
About the Author
Foreword
Dear Readers:
This is Book Two of the three-part Dragon Seeker serial, which can certainly be read as a stand-alone story arc.
There are four story arcs in the Dragon Hunter Chronicles, and each of them follows the hunt for one of the Dragons’ Relics, not to mention the sexy times between the Dragon shifters and their soon-to-be mates:
Dragon Hunter Box Set
Dragon Seeker, Book One
Dragon’s Lover (Coming in autumn/winter 2016)
Dragon’s Curse (Coming in winter 2016/2017)
If you haven’t read Dragon Hunter yet you might want to pick it up, as Neko and Lumen’s story will give you some background about the world of the Dragon shifters, their Relics and their strong bonds:
Dragon Hunter Box Set
Enjoy!
xox Carina
Introduction
The tower perches still above
A labyrinth concealed by grass and stone
Here, the Pendragon once sought out his love.
And now, the Relic of Air awaits its Seeker alone.
Scalding heat surged through Trix, her heart dancing in her chest. Seeker. That was what Amara had called her, too. The strange, ghostly woman she’d met in the street had known her fate, just as Neko did.
“His Seeker? So you mean…”
Neko nodded. “You need to help him find the Relic…and more than that, as well. You need to be with him.”
Trix turned back to Minach. “I don’t know where to start,” she said. “How do I do this?”
“He’ll no doubt have gone to the coast,” Minach began. “There’s a place we loved as boys. He still goes there when he’s upset.”
“Dover. Of course. He showed me.” Trix recalled the vivid picture of the house atop a cliff. “I think I know where to go. But I’ll need help getting there.”
“Well, I can fly,” said Lumen. “I’ll drop you anywhere you need to be.”
“Thank you, Lumen. I need to find him, I need to see him. I…need to be with him.”
Or I think I really will die.
Steps
The cottage on the cliff was just as Trix had pictured it in her mind’s eye. From the Dragon’s back high above, she looked down at the small, sweet stone house with white window frames, its slate roof dampened by a recent rain. Far below at the base of a tall, white cliff, aggressive waves of frigid salt water crashed against stone, threatening to take the coast away back to the sea. To break pieces off, wearing away at the land with brutal force.
All of which only made the beautiful landscape seem more wild, more untamed. And, of course, more alluring. Just like the man who was most likely hiding away beneath the cottage’s roof. The man she wanted so badly. The man who, according to Minach, thought he wasn’t good enough for her.
Lyre was down there somewhere, concealing himself from the world. But Trix had come to tell him that he didn’t need to hide anymore, didn’t have to be alone. That they were meant to be together. Well, at least if her nerves didn’t get the better of her, or make her beg her Dragon mount to turn tail and get his arse back to the relative safety of London before she lost her lunch.
The sun was already low on the far horizon by the time they arrived, threatening to disappear entirely. And now that the cottage had finally appeared below them, Trix’s heart was making a valiant attempt to escape her body via her throat. Her hands clung hard to Neko’s waist as Lumen’s Dragon form began his descent towards the expanse of long, sweeping grasses surrounding the small house.
“Lumen tells me Lyre’s definitely inside the cottage,” Neko shouted over the sound of wind spinning about their heads.
“Is he? That’s nice.” Trix’s teeth were chattering with nervousness, and she was certain that the entire world—even those who couldn’t hear—would know it.
“Are you sure you’re ready to do this?” Neko asked, turning her head to look back at her friend.
The other Hunter nodded, setting her jaw. “Ready as I’ll ever be to throw myself at a man who’s already rejected me once,” she half-laughed, an uncharacteristic pessimism coating the words. “And if he does it again, I’ll just throw myself over the cliff. Very convenient location for a dramatic end, this.”
“Now now, no flinging yourself off precipices, Beatrix.”
“You’re no fun. At any rate, as soon as Lumen sets me down, I’ll be all right. Or at least I think I will. I have no idea what to say or do, but I’ll manage somehow. I’m a resourceful woman, if nothing else.”
As though he were following orders, the Dragon shifter’s shining form swept down towards the grass, landing softly for the sake of his two riders. For a moment before dismounting Trix froze, a new, cruel apprehension fisting around her heart. Doubt raced through her mind, both about herself and her purpose here. Lyre had obviously fled to this place to be alone, to escape people; what if he simply didn’t want to see anyone, especially her?
“Damn it,” she breathed, sweeping a leg over the Dragon’s back and hitting the ground beside him hard as his wings folded up to his sides. “Get over it, Trix. You have to make this happen, whether you’re scared to death or not. Chin up and walk, now.”
And without another word to her two companions, she began to march towards the house, her legs quaking, unstable noodles beneath her.
“You going to be all right?” Neko called after her.
Trix raised a hand, waving her off. Getting into a conversation now might mean giving in to the temptation to back down.
“I’m fine,” she yelled.
A bigger lie had never been spoken. But Neko took her at her word, nodding encouragement as the great Dragon underneath her launched himself towards the skies to head back to London.
Well, Trix was on her own now. Whatever was to happen in the next few hours would determine the course of the rest of her life, and the terror seizing at her chest reminded her that this was the hardest thing she’d ever done.
And yet it was the best thing she’d ever done.
* * *
One hundred steps. She estimated that was how far she had to walk to reach the cottage. And with each stride her long legs only became more tremulous, more reluctant. The idea of seeing Lyre was more frightening than confronting another Forsaken or a hundred thousand Lapsed. It was her life, and perhaps more importantly, her heart, that she was dealing with now. Like the tattoo she’d had inked into her skin permanently, Lyre had branded himself somewhere deep inside her chest. It had come on so quickly, this deep attachment, working its way through her like a wonderful, aggressive virus.
Perhaps this was love. Maybe she’d loved him the first moment she’d seen him, or maybe it had been when his Dragon had first spoken to the deepest reaches of her mind, revealing a wry wit, a friendly demeanour and a personality that she immediately adored. Did the when or the how really even matter? He’d taken ownership of her, whenever, however. And how he reacted to her in a few moments would determine her future happiness, as much as she hated to admit that any man had so much power over her life.
Of course, he was no ordinary man.
She was twenty or so feet away when the cottage’s wooden front door opened
inward, sending her heart leaping in violent palpitations against her breastbone. And just when she thought she couldn’t take any more, he appeared.
Lyre’s massive form stepped forward, filling the doorway, his face turned towards her. Leaning his hands above his head against the wooden frame, he looked as incredible as ever, muscles defined against the thin cotton shirt coating their shapely ridges. His dark hair framed the gorgeous features of his face. Coal-black brows, intelligent blue eyes. And those cheekbones. Damn, damn, damn. Why did he have to be so bloody delicious?
Trix swallowed hard as she approached, stopping after a moment to confront him with her eyes and dose of manufactured confidence.
“May I come in?” By some miracle the words emerged from her mouth, her voice croaking in nervous tones. Trix felt about as charming as a bullfrog, and far less eloquent. But fuck it. Sound didn’t matter to him, of course. He wouldn’t be hearing the unattractive shaking of her vocal cords. All that mattered was that he understood her meaning; she could choke on syllables all she wanted.
He backed away, gesturing an invitation into the house. His face remained unreadable, neither offering pleasure nor disappointment to see her, which did absolutely nothing to improve her dwindling confidence level.
She advanced through the doorway past his enormous form, his scent hitting her hard. Oh, God. The luscious, divine aroma drove desire through her with the force of a relentless tidal wave, made her tingle in places that she’d forgotten she even had nerve endings. But by some miracle she managed to walk by him without stopping to lick him, her eyes focused, determined, on the interior of the house. No sense in getting distracted from the task at hand. Not yet, anyhow. There would be plenty of time for licks later.
Hopefully.
Straight ahead, a narrow staircase led up to the second floor. To one side of the stairs stretched a bright, cozy living room, where a couch and throw blankets greeted her inquisitive eyes. To the other, a large, colourful kitchen, decorated no doubt with a woman’s touch. Lyre and Minach’s mother, perhaps? Lace curtains blowing in the sea breeze, a yellow and white checked table cloth. The house was perfect, and Trix could instantly see why Lyre loved it so much.
Her back was facing him as she strolled into the kitchen. “Your favourite place,” she mouthed, recalling what he’d told her about the cottage the previous night. He wouldn’t see what she was saying, but no matter. There were more important things to communicate just now. And besides, she was really speaking to herself more than to him, calming her seriously frayed nerves.
Would he turn away from her again when she explained why she’d come, as he’d done less than twenty-four hours earlier? If so, she’d soon find herself stranded alone with a man who didn’t want her, and that would be a bloody awful way to start the evening off. But it was the risk she’d chosen to take, and besides, the payoff could be incredible.
She turned to face him, her tear ducts threatening to betray her by leaking, in spite of an earlier resolution not to allow emotion to enter into their conversation. Keep it together Trix, you snivelling little twit, she told herself.
But Lyre’s eyes weren’t focused on her at the moment. He was already busy typing on his mobile, which he’d pulled from a pocket in his jeans. And after a few seconds he held it up to speak on his behalf.
Excellent. She was to hear her fate from an electronic voice emanating from a phone. A voice designed by some far off stranger, apparently with the express purpose of torturing her with its icy coldness and unnatural manner of emphasizing all the wrong syllables. She wished so badly that she could hear the words spoken by him, by the voice that had made its way so deeply into her mind and body when she’d been in the presence of his Dragon déor. The voice that turned her to a shivering, delighted mess of goose flesh and horny thoughts.
“This must have been Lumen and Neko’s idea,” the emotionless, electronic drawl accused, the words coming slowly, mechanically. “They told you to come, didn’t they?”
Shite. This was a bad start.
She began to shake her head in protest before realizing that he was, after all, more or less right. And so she pulled her own phone out to type a more complex response than a simple no, annoyed with her fingers for being so slow.
Each second spent awkwardly poking at the screen was a painful delay in communication, an interruption to the flow of intimacy that she so craved. The intimacy they’d managed the previous night, at least for a little.
Well, bollocks. Typing to one another was seriously lacking in instant gratification.
“Not exactly,” she finally managed to write despite her suddenly incompetent, shaking fingers. “I wanted to come. And yes, Lumen and Neko wanted me to. But it was your brother who convinced me that it was the right thing to do.”
“My brother?” Lyre wrote, looking genuinely surprised.
“Yes. He…”
Her fingers stopped abruptly. Seeing the words on the screen made them seem suddenly too honest, too real. Those beautiful, brutal words of Minach’s had given her so much hope. And the terrifying thing was that she had to tell Lyre; it was the whole reason she’d come.
Craning to look up at him, tears lining her eyes, she finished the thought out loud.
“Minach said I’m your Seeker. That I’m your…mate.”
The last word stuck in her throat, as though letting it loose would mean opening herself up to too much potential for heartache. And as soon as she’d said it, she knew that she’d just issued an invitation for him to hurt her all over again.
Desperation
For a moment Lyre actually looked as though he might smile. So, the news, it seemed, had the potential to make him genuinely happy.
Encouraged by his expression, Trix took a step towards him. And to her surprise and joy, his right hand reached for her, his fingers cradling her chin, his thumb stroking her cheek tenderly. A surge of affection flowed from those fingertips into her skin, sending prickles of excitement through her entire body.
This was really happening. She’d told him why she’d come, and now they could—would—be together.
But as though fighting off an undeserved emotion, Lyre froze abruptly mid-movement, setting his jaw in a deliberate frown. Dropping his arm to his side, he backed away, his features determined to defy whatever might be occurring inside him.
He returned his stare to the screen of his phone as he typed her another message. “Well, I’m sorry that you’ve come all this way, but I’m afraid you’re NOT my Seeker or my mate,” he wrote as quickly as his fingers could move. “I have no mate. I’ve told you that. And I’m not meant to find the Relic. So they’ve got it all wrong.”
Trix opened her mouth to protest, but the words stopped before they’d formed. What sort of reply could she possibly give him after such a complete and total shutdown? “Oh, please Lyre, change your mind and take me to your bed. I’ll do anything if you just say yes. I’m awfully good with my mouth, and I can even give you references if you need them” was hardly an attractive plea.
“But if you don’t find the Relic, who will?” she asked instead, hiding her hurt as best she could. Fine. Since he was going to be so damned cold, she’d be all business.
“I’m not the only Dragon of Air. Minach can and will find the Relic when he’s healthy. I want nothing to do with any of this. I told Lumen as much, so I don’t see why he’s being so thick-skulled about it.”
The darkest part of Trix had all but expected to see those very words. But, much as the anticipation of pain had warned her to brace in preparation, it had done little to shield her heart. And as soon as she read what he’d written, her insides were ravaged with all the fierceness of a wild animal’s attack. Heart, stomach, mind, all victims of an aggressive onslaught. All of a sudden everything inside her cried out at once for relief.
She silently begged the ground beneath her feet to open up and swallow her away so that she never had to reveal her face to the world again. Why, oh why had she come? Stup
id, stupid Trix. But that wanker Minach had seemed so certain that she and Lyre were meant to be together. So confident. And she’d found herself caught up in the contagion of his damned positivity. Filled with her own fool’s hope, which had now been dashed into a billion tiny shards of despair. She’d believed Lyre’s twin with every morsel of her soul. But perhaps it was only because she’d so wanted to believe him.
“You can stay the night, then I’ll fly you back to London,” the Dragon shifter typed. “There’s a bedroom up the stairs to the left where you can sleep. I’ll put a light on for you. If Lumen had stuck around for a minute, he could’ve saved me the sodding trip. He should have known better than to think I’d go for this.”
Trix inadvertently backed away as she read the words, distancing herself from him in a subconscious gesture of self-preservation. Wonderful. Her damned fight or flight instinct was kicking in. A part of her wanted to run away, but another part—the part that stung like lemon juice shot into a wound through a fire hose—wanted to lash out. To let him know that she hadn’t come all this way only to be treated so coldly by a man who’d kissed her neck tenderly just a few short hours ago.
“Well, Lyre, I’m so sorry to inconvenience you in such an irritating manner,” she shot him, being very sure to articulate the words clearly with her lips. “I was stupid enough to think that Minach might be right about you and me. Stupid to think that your lips on my skin meant something. But don’t worry, I’ll stay out of your fucking way until morning.”
Bitterness tinged the voice that he couldn’t hear. It hadn’t taken long for her pain to shift to a sort of humiliated anger; the only question was where to direct it. At herself? She was the one who’d been foolish enough to come. But the others: Lumen, Neko, Minach—they shouldn’t have told her to. It was cruel of them, and it was wrong. They’d known that Lyre was determined to remain alone. Why had they put her in such an awful position?
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