In my haste to retreat, I butted up into the now familiar feel of Jeb's torso. This time when his arms went around me, they were gentle, almost apologetic.
It infuriated me.
"What are you doing with these humans anyway, Caleb?" I demanded. "They have no place in our world."
I twisted around in Jeb's arms, coming face-to-face with those crystalline eyes and chiseled features. For one heart stopping moment, his eyes met mine and I believed I caught something within them that didn't match up with what was happening behind me. His gaze dipped to my mouth and back again to my eyes so quickly I doubted he had faltered, but I had seen it.
I knew I had.
He had his own motives for helping Caleb. Whatever they were, they hadn't originally included me. I was his collateral damage.
I had the feeling that in the full human world, he was a man of power. But here, in mine, he was out of his depth. He just had no idea how far.
"He'll kill you," I said to him. "You know that, right? When he's done with you, every breath you take will be a risk."
"I'm no stranger to risk," he said and flicked his gaze over my shoulder toward Caleb.
I knew that the werewolf had decided to end the banter. I knew he was advancing and that in moments, my life would change.
Caleb stood in front of me, so close within my personal space that our breath mingled. He ran his calloused palm the length of my arm and stopped at the belly of my bicep. He dug beneath the muscle.
"You'll feel better tomorrow, Shana," Caleb said and then he sank the needle of wolfs bane into my arm.
My knees went to water as I felt the drug moving through my veins, forcing me toward a slumber that had been begging to take me for hours already.
The only thing holding me up, I knew, were Jeb's arms and he cradled me against his chest with a firm hand. I felt his heart pound against my back, tripping over itself as though it were trying to stutter out a confession.
I realized with sudden clarity what my body's response to his meant, why I hadn't been able to transform to attack him. It was the only true reason a shifter like me couldn't force the change. It was ridiculous, ludicrous even. And in the face of these events, even more so.
My wolf wanted this man. This fully-human, seeming-businessman in league with the shifter who had killed my family.
"You're too late, Caleb," I said and was astounded to hear how slowly my words formed. "My beast has already chosen."
I barely felt Caleb's torturous pinch against my already chafed nipple as he leaned in and pressed his lips against my ear. I flinched at the threat in his tone.
"She won't want him for long," he whispered. "Not once I claim her."
He pressed his mouth to mine and invaded me with his tongue. His teeth nipped at my lips and I felt Jeb go rigid against me as the kiss went on, his breathing shifting from a natural rhythm to a controlled staccato as I fought and failed to pull my mouth away from Caleb's.
My limbs lost all power to resist as unconsciousness stole me.
I only had time to think that there are a dozen ways to kill a man if an assassin is creative, and I knew that I would kill this man.
I would kill them all in fact, right down to the last piece of disgusting flesh and putrid breath, and I would be very, very creative.
* * *
The End
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About the Author
I'm a NEW YORK TIMES and USA TODAY Bestselling Author. I'm also Canadian which means I slip up sometimes and use the Canuck way of spelling on things that we spell differently than Americans or Brits.
I used to have a black lab at my feet when I wrote, warming up the calves. She was a good girl. I miss her. Now it's just a cuppa tea keeping this old gal warm. Maybe someday though...
So what will you find in my stories? Wounded people, really. Each one of them struggling their way to the light and peace and self acceptance.
If you like that, you might like my books. It might be easier for you to hear that if you enjoy authors like Dannika Dark or Patricia Briggs, that slipping into the skin of one of my characters might be something worth trying.
But I'll leave that to you.
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* * *
Read More of Thea's Books
Rogue Huntress
Witches of Etlanitum
Reapers Redemption
Queen of Skye and Sword
Vampire Addictions
Theta Waves
Graves Files
Air to the Court
A Winds of Change Dragon Shifter Story
Margo Bond Collins
About Air to the Court
Beware castles in the air.
* * *
Brennan O’Neill grew up knowing she was expected to one day take back the dragon shifters’ kingdom from the usurper who had stolen her mother’s throne and massacred her family in a bloody palace coup. But when Fenwick, her parents’ advisor and the reason Brennan survived the coup, was murdered—despite all his precautions—Brennan fled, swearing to give up her dragon heritage entirely.
* * *
That was ten years ago, and so far, Brennan has managed to blend into human society beautifully. Until three gorgeous men, all dragon shifters, show up on her doorstep in New York City with a plan to restore Brennan to her throne.
* * *
There are more than a few problems with that plan, though. Not least of all the fact that Brennan doesn’t want the throne. And even if she did, she can’t use dragon fire. She never learned and isn’t about to start now.
* * *
But these shifters have declared themselves her Queen’s Guard—and they’re not about to give up until they convince her that her realm needs her.
* * *
And they can be awfully convincing.
Chapter One
The first time my Queen’s Guard showed up on my doorstep, I slammed the door in their faces. Literally.
Or at least, I tried to.
I had tickets to a show at Lincoln Center that night, so when someone rang for me to buzz them into my apartment building, I didn’t even check—I assumed it was my date.
It was a stupid move, one that showed I’d grown far too comfortable in my human skin, my human life in New York.
When I opened the door, I didn’t find my human date waiting. Instead, three male dragon-shifters stood there in their gorgeous human forms.
My welcoming smile faltered.
I had barely enough time to realize that if they had wanted to kill me, I would already be dead.
And then one spoke.
“Brennan O’Neill?” The one in front—presumably the group’s alpha, though he was physically the smallest of the three—took a half-step forward. That’s when I realized what else this could be.
“Oh, hell no.” I whipped the door closed as fast as I could, but I wasn’t quick enough to stop him from shoving one boot into the crack between the frame and door. The heavy door crashing into his foot didn’t faze him at all.
I leaned my back against the door and pushed as hard as I could. It didn’t budge. Neither did he.
“Ms. O’Neill?” the alpha continued, his voice calm and polite—and implacable.
“No. Sorry. You must have the wrong address,” I babbled, even though I knew my instant reaction had already given me away. “I’m busy. Come back later. Or never. Never is good. In fact, never is best.”
The alpha’s voice dropped into a different register, one that was much quieter. Almost intimate. “You need to talk to us. Your kingdom is in danger.”
/>
Damn. I was right. They were here to try to make me go back.
“No,” I practically wailed. “I can’t. I won’t.” But as I slumped a little in my despair, I let up the pressure on the door just a tiny bit.
It was enough for the alpha to push the door open more.
With a sigh, I stepped away and turned to open the door wide. “Fine. You might as well come in.”
As they filed in, I got my first good look at all of them. Physically, they were about as different as it was possible for three men to be. Yet, there was something about them—a kind of heat shimmering off them in waves—that had given them away as dragon shifters instantly, and that also clearly marked them as connected to one another, despite their human forms. I was willing to bet their dragon forms all carried the same clan markings.
The alpha only seemed small in comparison to the other two. Compared to me, he was still pretty solid—and I was far from being a small woman. His dark hair and thick black eyebrows contrasted with his pale skin.
The second man was probably the team’s enforcer. He was an enormous man with dark skin and a bald head, and he wore a serious expression.
The third one, I had a harder time getting any real sense of beyond simply dragon-shifter. His hair was wavy, a dark reddish-blond, and his blue eyes sparkled with suppressed amusement as he passed me.
Fenwick, the advisor who had saved me from the castle coup when my parents had been overthrown, had done his best to continue my education after we’d come to New York to hide in the seething masses of humanity. But there was only so much I could truly learn without examples to reinforce the information. So although I’d memorized the possible positions in a dragon squad, I wasn’t sure where this guy fit.
I silently ran through the possibilities. Alpha, Enforcer, Wielder, Protector…
As the last of the shifters moved into my tiny New York City apartment and I turned to close the door behind them, my actual, human date came bounding up the stairs.
My silent list stuttered at the sight of him. …Designer, Defender, oh no.
“Hey, Bren,” he was already saying as he hit the top stair. “Sorry I’m late. I—” He skidded to a halt in front of me, his eyes wide as he took in the three men I could now feel standing in a semicircle behind me.
Enchanter. The third guy had to be a magic-user.
“Jordan,” I said, trying to keep him from hearing the shaking in my voice. “I am so sorry.” Holding the door open with my foot, I fumbled to gather up the tickets from the small table where I’d placed them next to my keys. Smoothly, one of the dragon-shifters handed them to me.
“I’m not going to be able to go tonight,” I continued. “My cousins came to town for a surprise visit, so I need to spend some time with them.”
Jordan eyed the shifters up and down, clearly suspicious. “You sure?” He made careful eye-contact with me. “You want me to stay? Or maybe call someone?”
I laughed, but to my own ears, it sounded forced, too high and nervous to be real at all. “No, I’ll be fine. Seriously. Here.” I shoved the tickets toward him. “Take these. I know it’s last-minute, but maybe you could find someone to go with you. Or scalp one, maybe.”
Jordan frowned, but he took the tickets from me. Before he left, though, he stepped up closer and took both my hands in his. “You absolutely sure you’re okay?”
I had to hand it to Jordan—he was brave to keep following up in the face of three huge dragon-shifters. Even if he didn’t know what they were, he sensed the danger they posed.
I forced my shoulders to relax. “I’m sure. It was just a surprise to have these guys show up. I was worried you’d be upset. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”
That finally seemed to convince him I was being honest. “Sure. I’ll talk to you then.” He leaned in and kissed my cheek.
One of the shifters behind me growled, the sound so deep and low that I more felt it as a vibration through my body than heard it as a sound.
Jordan frowned, so I distracted him with a quick kiss on the lips, the first time I had ever done that, then all but pushed him out the door. “Talk you to you tomorrow,” I called out as I shut the door.
“You shouldn’t have kissed that human,” said the enforcer in a deep, resonant voice.
Great. I’ve got James Earl Jones in my apartment lecturing me on my love life.
I didn’t mention the similarity out loud, though. Depending on where these three had spent the last twelve years, they might not even know what I was talking about.
“Why don’t you all have a seat?” I said instead.
They did, though they all sat with a kind of quivering vibration that suggested they might leap into action at any moment. In the confines of my New York apartment, they took up all the space—and, it felt like, all the air—with their enormous presence.
I, on the other hand, crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back against the table by the door. No way was I going to sit down around these three.
We stayed that way for a long, silent, tension-filled moment. I didn’t want to be the one to break it, but I finally spoke up. After all, I also didn’t want them to stay in my apartment for one second longer than necessary.
I let my gaze move from one to the other, pinning each of them with a serious stare for a second before I asked, “Who are you, exactly, and why are you here?”
The one I’d already gauged as the alpha leaned forward. “We’re your Queen’s Guard, your highness, and we’re here because if you don’t retake your place as the ruler of the dragonsrealm, the entire kingdom will be destroyed.” He paused, more like he was trying to find words than for effect—but it still sounded dramatic when he spoke again.
“If you won’t be our queen, all dragonkin will die.”
Chapter Two
Brennan O’Neill wasn’t my real name.
Hell, it wasn’t even my first alias. Or my second.
None of the names I’d gone by since I’d arrived in New York City were my birth name. That was Brionna Drake.
When my mother Kayda, Queen of the Dragonsrealms, and my father Cadman, Lord Consort to the Queen, were overthrown by Nico, the leader of Clan Smoak, I survived.
But only barely. Fenwick, a member of my mother’s Queen’s Guard and one of my parents’ favorite advisors, raced straight to my quarters as soon as he realized what was happening.
I don’t remember much of the coup. I was only five, and Fen sheltered me from the worst of it, even as he smuggled me out of the realm and into the human world.
What I do remember is coming home from school eleven years later and finding Fen slumped across our tiny kitchen table in a pool of his own blood. His throat had been slit. I always assumed Nico’s people had done it, though I didn’t stick around long enough to find out.
So I meant it with pretty much every fiber of my being when I turned to the dragon shifters who had invaded my living room and said, “So what?”
All three of them looked like I’d hit them over the head with…well, with something heavy enough to daze even a dragon shifter.
I shook my head and sighed, then moved to the only open seat remaining in the room—the straight-backed chair belonging to my desk in the corner. I pulled it out, turned it around so I could face them, and dropped down into it.
“Look,” I said, clapping my hands together so I looked like I was praying and tapping my lips with them before finally leaning forward. “The dragonsrealm has killed everyone I loved. It took my parents from me before I turned six. Not to mention the child my mother was carrying.”
My voice started shaking. I hadn’t realized how much all of this still hurt. But it did. Just listing all my dead made my stomach hurt.
“It took my mother’s Queen’s Guard—all the guardsmen who spent my childhood making sure I knew I was loved and cherished.” I stood up and began pacing. “It took all my childhood playmates, and my family, and in the end, it even took Fenwick.”
I stopped in the
middle of the room, turning to face the shifters. “It took my hopes and my dreams, burned them up, and left me with nothing but ashes. So, no. I don’t care if the dragonsrealm disappears in a puff of smoke. As long as it leaves me the hell alone.”
All three shifters gazed at me assessingly, but in the end, it was the alpha who stood up. He reached toward me, holding out both hands to take mine.
I wasn’t even sure why I let him. But it had been so damn long since any of my own kind had touched me.
As soon as his fingers curled around mine, I felt it—that frisson of heat zipping from the point of contact through my skin. It was a distinctly dragonish sensation. One I’d missed.
“I am so sorry all that happened to you,” he said, his voice as gentle as his touch. “If I could go back and change it for you, I would.”
Oddly enough, I really believed he would.
“But since I can’t, would you be willing to sit with us long enough to hear us out?”
“How can I be sure you weren’t followed?” I glanced around the apartment as if I might find intruders lurking inside it, crouched in a corner behind my ficus tree or something.
“We took every precaution to ensure no one followed us,” the alpha said, leading me gently to the space on the sofa where he had been sitting. “Please, have a seat, and hear us out. That’s all I ask.”
His voice soothed me, almost against my will, and I found myself sinking down to the couch.
When the alpha let go of my hands, I felt almost bereft for just a second.
“First,” he continued, “let me introduce us. My name is Rayce, and I’m the alpha of our squadron. This is Draven, and he’s our enforcer.” As I had anticipated, he gestured toward the tall, bald black man, who nodded gravely in my direction.
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