by Zoe Chant
Nick flinched, and Raluca jerked her fingers away. But she couldn’t pretend that she hadn’t felt it. Shifters normally didn’t scar at all. It would take either repeated injuries to the same place, or one bad enough to nearly kill...
“Later?” Raluca asked.
“Yeah. Should’ve warned you, sorry. One day I’ll have a HANDS OFF sign tattooed on that oak.” Nick took a deep breath, then managed a smile. “That’s it for the landmines. Anywhere else is fine.”
Even without knowing the story, Raluca felt a sympathetic twinge of her heart for him, both for the original wound and for the pain it obviously still caused him. But he didn’t wish to speak of it now, and she trusted him to tell her later.
She continued her exploration of his body. He had little hair on his chest, and the black scattering he did have blended into the tree branches. Like his scars, the line of hair that ran straight down through his navel was invisible against a dark tree-trunk. Raluca only discovered it by touch.
“Keep going,” Nick breathed, as she ran her finger down it.
He leaned back, levering himself up on his hands so she could pull off his pants. She took off his boxers with them, leaving him completely nude in one smooth motion.
His legs were as finely muscled as the rest of him, but it was his cock that caught her attention. It rose up hard and throbbing, exactly the right size for her hand.
When she closed her fingers around it, Nick made a sound halfway between a groan and a snarl, pulled from deep within his chest. “Raluca... I love how you touch me, but...”
It was exactly the right size for her. The lazy relaxation of her first climax vanished, replaced with an urgency that made her squeeze her hand tight. He groaned again, but not with pain.
“We can touch more later.” Raluca lay back, tugging Nick down on top of her. “I too want you in me now.”
His whole body moved into hers, his skin smooth, the muscles firm beneath it. He kissed her hard and stroked her face, and she felt not only desire but love in the touch of his fingers, the pressure of his lips, the heat of his mouth.
He pulled back, reaching down into the pocket of the pants that she’d tossed beside the bed, then frowned. “I picked up some condoms. Even though I was sure I’d never get to use them. Is that okay? Or do you not believe in any sort of birth control at all?”
Raluca stared at him blankly, then remembered their exchange in the dressing room. Now that she understood more about them both and the very different places they’d come from, she instantly knew how she’d misled him, and why. All that confusion and frustration seemed absurd now. All either of them had needed to do was ask.
“A misunderstanding, Nick,” she said, trying not to laugh. “It’s not that I don’t believe in birth control. It’s that I don’t need it. Dragons conceive by will, not by accident. I won’t get pregnant unless I choose to. When you mentioned it before, I too misunderstood. I thought you were insulting me by implying that I wasn’t a true dragon.”
Nick pulled his empty hand back up, put his head in his hands, and groaned. “Why the fuck didn’t I ask? I could’ve had you then!”
“You can have me now.”
“Yeah.” His eyes glittered with an intensity that was both wolflike and very Nick. “Yeah, fuck what we didn’t do before. Let’s take what we’ve got right now.”
She shivered with delicious anticipation as he moved against her, his steel-hard cock sliding against the wet heat between her legs. Then he thrust into her, drawing a cry of startled pleasure from her lips. From his, too.
“Raluca,” he gasped. “You’re so hot inside.”
She didn’t need to ask if he liked it. She could hear and see and feel how much he did. She did, too. She’d previously found penetration both disappointing and over far too fast. This was different. Nick positioned himself so he rubbed against her sensitive bud with every thrust, sending waves of ecstasy down her every nerve.
She moved to meet him, letting her body take over, not caring what she looked or sounded like. All that mattered was the moment, his pleasure and hers. His love and hers. She could feel the bond between them, a matter of heart and soul as much as body, vibrant and alive. They’d fought it as hard as they could, but they hadn’t done so much as a crack of damage. It was as unbreakable as it was irresistible.
“I —” Nick was thrusting hard, panting. “I can’t —”
She was on the brink of another climax, her entire body yearning toward it as much as his was about to be swept away by it.
“One more,” Raluca gasped.
Nick’s jaw clenched, and she knew that if she’d said “ten more” or “a hundred more,” he’d have done it. But he gave one more hard thrust, and a burst of pleasure blossomed within her.
Her head fell back, her eyes fluttering shut as she let her climax wash over her. She heard and felt rather than saw Nick’s own climax, his hot jet within her, his growl of satisfaction. Then he lay panting beside her. A moment later, they both reached out to hold each other close.
Raluca touched a lock of his black hair that had fallen across his forehead. It was damp with sweat, and very soft. “I like your hair. It’s like silk.”
Strands of her own hair lay draped across his chest, as if silver rain was falling on the forest. Nick gently tugged a strand. “I like yours, too. It’s smooth, but like metal, too. It feels strong.”
“It is.” Raluca smiled. “I expect you and Lucas don’t discuss hair care, but I can tell you that both he and I need special shears to cut ours. All dragons do.”
“No, that’s not really a guy topic. Not here, anyway.”
“You think about it, but you don’t speak of it,” Raluca teased. “I am certain that Rafa takes great care with his.”
Nick laughed. “I take that back. He does, and he is the one guy who is totally fine with admitting it. He claims it’s a lion thing — you know, his mane shows his masculinity — but I think between being a Navy SEAL, a lion, and the size he is, he just doesn’t worry about anyone thinking he’s girly.”
Raluca’s dragon abruptly stirred within her. Now is your chance! Ask Nick what jewelry he would consider manly.
Raluca suppressed a snicker, then realized that she’d have to satisfy her dragon or never hear the end of it. Besides, she too wanted to adorn Nick with silver.
“I understand that jewelry is more commonly worn by women in America,” Raluca said cautiously. “But I would very much like to give you some. It’s important for dragons to bedeck their mates —” At Nick’s look of alarm, she amended it to, “Bedeck could be only one piece. But I would wish you to wear it always. And it should be silver.”
“Umm.” Nick looked doubtful, then brightened. “Something punk?”
“Show me examples of ‘punk,’ and I will seek out something suitable.”
“All right. Tomorrow, maybe.”
They lay together in cozy, companionable silence, and then Nick’s eyes flickered. Raluca looked at him curiously. He too seemed to be bracing himself to inquire about something important that he thought she might not like to hear.
“Ask,” she said. “As we agreed. No guessing.”
“Oh, it’s nothing bad. I didn’t want to make you feel self-conscious, but I was wondering...” Nick touched her throat. “Your voice is different. Ever since you said you wanted me, as I am. It was the other time we had sex, too. I like it — I mean, I like your regular voice, too — but...”
At first Raluca didn’t know what he meant. Then she realized what had happened. For a panicky moment, she wasn’t sure if she could do it again. But when she spoke again, it was not in her practiced chime, but in a deeper, more natural tone. “This is my regular voice. The other was vocal training, to make me sound like people imagine a princess should. I wasn’t sure I even remembered how to not do it, until now. I suppose more of my true self is returning to me. I barely even know what that is, though. As far back as I can recall, I was trained to be ‘the princess.’ I was
never allowed to be just Raluca.”
“Fuck.” Nick shook his head. “Being royalty is a lot more fucked up than I realized. I thought I got it from what Lucas told me, and how he was before he met Journey. And I know your story — some of it, anyway — but I didn’t realize till now how it must have felt.”
“You have everything you could want,” Raluca said. “Every material thing, that is. But you can’t leave, and you can’t make choices, and you can’t be yourself. Uncle Constantine controlled everything I did. Everything. I had a closet full of beautiful dresses, but he had selected them all, and every day he had my maid lay out the one he wished me to wear. He gave me tutors who taught me how to speak and how to move, and then he told me what to do and what to say. And every day of my life, a little bit more of what made me myself was taken away.”
Raluca felt the shiver that went down Nick’s spine.
“It sounds fucking horrible,” he said. “Like a nightmare I had once, where I was a puppet. I couldn’t move except when someone pulled my strings. I can’t even imagine what that must have been like.”
“You imagined it perfectly,” Raluca replied. “That is exactly what it was like. I was a marionette, and Uncle Constantine moved my strings.”
Nick pulled her closer into his arms. “Well, you’re not a puppet any more. You’re a real girl now.”
Raluca smiled. Uncle Constantine had made sure she watched all the Disney movies with princesses, but he’d let her see the rest when she asked, so she knew Pinocchio too. “And I didn’t even have to turn into a donkey first.”
“Nah, you couldn’t ever be anything but a dragon.” Nick traced the dragonmark that curled around her shoulder. “That’s nothing your asshole uncle made you into. That’s the real you, one hundred percent. And he sure as hell didn’t make you jump off that balcony.”
“That seems to be a famous story,” Raluca remarked. “How much did Lucas tell you about me?”
“Not that much, but he said he’d never known you very well, so he probably told us everything he knew,” Nick said. “But he and Journey both gave us all the deets on the balcony jump. Guess it made a big impression on them. It sure would’ve made one on me.”
Raluca settled herself into Nick’s arms, resting her head on his shoulder. They fit against each other so easily, like pieces of a puzzle. “You know my story, but I still don’t know yours. When I asked you to show me your America, I was attempting to find out more about you by seeing what you liked, but I must have phrased it in some offensive manner...”
Nick groaned. “Was that what you meant? I thought it was something like, ‘Show me where low-lifes like you hang out, so I can go sneer at them.’”
It took Raluca a moment to mentally translate the first part into “Show me where the lowly peasants like you live,” but she understood the second half instantly. “That was not my intent at all.”
“Yeah, I get that now,” Nick said. “I think we misunderstood each other a lot.”
Raluca recalled their past interactions, and how they had changed once Nick had walked into this room. “Would you agree, in the future, that if either of us thinks that the other is saying or even thinking something unpleasant, that we explicitly inquire as to the truth of the matter, rather than jumping to the worst possible conclusion without ever speaking our conjectures?”
Nick blinked; she seemed to have spoken in a manner that required him to also mentally translate. Then he said, “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea. So you think we have a future? You’re not still planning to run back to Viorel?”
Once again, Raluca had the sense of falling and then soaring into unknown but lovely skies. “If you wish a future with me, then I wish one with you.”
“I do,” Nick said instantly. “You’re my mate. I love you. I want to be with you forever, no matter how fucking many times we have to say, ‘What did you mean?’”
“I love you, too.” The words came easily to Raluca’s lips, surprising her. It was as if she was now flying with the wind rather than fighting against it. “And I want to be with you, no matter how many times I have to hear that word.”
“I could try to cut down,” Nick said, a little doubtfully.
“Now that I am using my own voice, it seems wrong to stop you from using yours. I would prefer you to carry out what you vowed earlier.” Raluca paused to remember his quaint phrasing. “I mean the removal of the shoulder chip. There is much in the world that is worthy of anger; why take it out on those who love you?”
“That’s over,” Nick said. His words were plain, but the determination behind them could move mountains. “There might be some slips, but...”
“I do not expect perfection. That was my uncle’s mistake.” Then, undeterred, she asked, “But why? That is not a rhetorical question.”
Nick took a deep breath. “Because I’m a fucking hand grenade with the pin out. I’m still fucking furious about all this shit that happened to me years ago, but no one wants to hear about that, so —”
“I do.”
Nick’s bright eyes widened with surprise. “You do?”
“Yes,” Raluca said. “I want to hear your story. I have tried to ask before, but...”
“But I took it the wrong way and blew you off.” Nick moved restlessly, trying to resettle himself in bed without dislodging her from her position. All his muscles had tensed as soon as he’d mentioned his past, and were hard as rocks.
“Roll over,” Raluca said, nudging him.
Obediently, Nick rolled on to his stomach. “Why —”
“Your muscles are very tight. If they are not massaged, your body will ache tomorrow.” Raluca sat up and placed her hands on his bare shoulders. She had never given a massage before, but she’d received many after long, tiring days of dance and posture lessons.
“It’s a sweet thought, but I don’t think you can —” Nick began.
Raluca squeezed his shoulder muscles, first gently, then with more and more force. Finally, they released beneath her hands, softening and relaxing despite themselves.
Nick let out a long sigh. “Fuck, that feels good. I forgot. Shifter strength. Thanks, Raluca.”
“Dragon strength,” she murmured, and applied herself to the taut muscles of his back, slowly working her way downward until he lay sprawled on the bed, as relaxed as if he’d melted into it.
“So,” Raluca said. “Your story. I still wish to hear it.”
Nick sighed again. “I’ll just get more tense if I talk about it. All that amazing massage work will go to hell.”
“Then I will do it again.” Raluca stroked his soft black hair, knowing she would never tire of touching it. “Nick. If you do not wish to speak of your past, then say so. And if you wish me to stop asking, then say that as well. We agreed not to guess at each other’s meanings. You are making me guess.”
Just as he’d warned her, Nick’s shoulders began to tense. She dug in her fingers again until his muscles were forced to relax.
“You weren’t kidding,” Nick said. “Okay, here’s the deal. I do want you to know my story. From what you told me, it’s not like my life was any worse than yours, just differently awful. And I can tell you about it — I’m not all fucking traumatized like Shane or Fiona, it’ll be a cold night in hell before you catch them talking about their pasts — but it’s bloody and brutal and not the kind of story you tell to a fucking princess. Former princess,” he amended.
“I have been the victim of two murder attempts,” Raluca pointed out. “I consider that to be brutal.”
“Yeah, I haven’t forgotten that. But that’s people trying to do shit to you. You’ve never done anything violent yourself.”
“Nick,” Raluca said. “Are you afraid that if you tell me what you’ve done, I’ll be disgusted and horrified and run away screaming on my pretty, pretty princess shoes?”
Nick’s brief, bright smile flashed, then vanished. Casting his gaze low, he muttered, “Yeah. Yeah, that is exactly what I’m —” He see
med to choke on the word afraid, finally substituting, “— worried about.”
Raluca put two fingers under Nick’s chin, tipping his head up and forcing him to look into her eyes. “Who got poisoned today? Who put a bulletproof vest on you? Who ate a Big Bacon?”
“Half a Big Bacon,” Nick retorted instantly.
“Only because you told me I need not eat more. Had you not stopped the dare, I would have finished it.”
“Yeah, I know. That’s why I stopped you. I was afraid you’d make yourself sick. You are one fucking tough ex-princess.”
“Tough enough for your story?” Raluca inquired.
“Of course you are. I’m not worried you’ll be scared. I’m worried you won’t want to be with a man who —” Nick broke off, then reached out and caught her hand, clutching it like a lifeline. “Don’t let go of me, Raluca.”
“Nick.” Raluca closed her hand over his, holding him tight. “I never will.”
Chapter Six
Nick
Nick’s Story
Wolves need a pack. It doesn’t have to be all wolves. I do fine with Protection, Inc., and I’m the only wolf in it. But we need to belong to a group. If we don’t have one, it fucks us up.
My mother wasn’t a wolf. Dad walked into a diner and asked for a cup of coffee, a waitress came over to pour it for him, he looked into her eyes, and boom. That was it. Mates for life.
Problem was, he was supposed to marry another wolf, or at least another shifter. He told Mom what he was, and once she got over the shock, she asked him to bite her and make her a shifter, too. It seemed like it would solve all their problems. Once she became a wolf, his pack would accept her, and she’d get healing powers and shifter strength and could turn into a wolf. Good deal, right?
Except it didn’t work. Some people just can’t shift, even if they’re born into a wolf family. Or even if they’re bitten. Mom turned out to be one of them. No shifting, no healing powers, no strength, no nothing.
Mom was disappointed, but the really big deal was that Dad’s pack kicked him out. If you’re a wolf, then your mate is automatically part of your pack, and his pack didn’t want humans. Especially since they figured that not being able to shift was probably genetic, so if she couldn’t shift even after she was bitten, her children wouldn’t be able to either.