by Ava Benton
I took a deep, tearful breath. “He’s terrible.”
“I got that feeling about him. And you were forced to become engaged to him.”
“It wasn’t quite official yet,” I admitted. “We were going to announce it at a party held by my father. Or, rather, they would announce it. I had nothing to do with the wedding. I had nothing to do with any of it. My whole life. Everything decided for me. I’d only learn after the fact when a decision that concerned was made.”
“Do you know what your father does for a living?”
When my head snapped up, and I glared at him, he winced.
“That was clumsy. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“I know exactly what he does. I’ve known for a long time. And I’ve tried to run away exactly four times, because I can’t stand the thought of being near him.”
“What happened?”
“What do you think?” I shrugged. “He found me, or one of his men found me. I’m surprised Antonio was the one to come after me this time. Or maybe my father thinks I’m dead and doesn’t see the point. But Antonio wants his bride. He won’t leave well enough alone.”
“He loves you?” Miles looked skeptical.
I snorted. “He’s incapable of love. No, this marriage means uniting himself with my father’s business. He wants to be top dog someday—why, I have no idea. There’s only one way for their work to end. Do you know what I mean?”
“It’s pretty much a death sentence from the first day,” he surmised.
“Essentially. How either of them have lived this long is beyond me. But I won’t be one of his women. I won’t. He only wants to use me, and when he’s tired of me…”
“You don’t have to say it.” His hand tightened, almost to the point of pain.
I winced.
He released me immediately. “I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s all right. I’ve been hurt worse than that before—and on purpose, too,” I whispered. “So, do you see why I jumped that day? It was the only way I could think to get away from them both. I knew they’d always try to find me—and someone always had before, so there wasn’t much hope of getting away unless I was dead.”
“Don’t speak that way. I don’t want to hear it.”
“That doesn’t make it any less true. I couldn’t see any other way out. My whole future looked like nothing but a prison stay. Maybe I would have babies, but I would have nothing to do with the way they were raised. No say in their lives or even in my own life. He would use me when he felt like it and throw me away when he felt like it. And nobody would care. Nobody would even know, so long as I could help it. I’d be too ashamed. I’m almost too ashamed to talk about it with you, now.”
“Why would you feel shame over something like this? It’s not due to any fault of yours.”
“I know that here.” I pointed to my head, then let my hand rest over my heart. “But here? Another story.”
“I would say it took courage to do what you did. The way you lingered there, hesitating…” He trailed off, his eyes going out of focus as he remembered that day.
I remembered it, too. How could I ever forget?
“I didn’t want to.” That was it. The moment I lost control. The sobs which wrenched themselves from my chest left me shaking all over, unable to breathe or speak or do anything but let them out. I’d been holding them in for so long.
I didn’t know when he took me in his arms, but he did, and I rested my head on his shoulder and released every pent-up bit of anger and disappointment and fear. All of it, until there was nothing but peace.
When it was over, and his t-shirt was soaked through with my tears, I had to laugh at myself.
“God, what you must think of me,” I muttered, wiping my cheeks with the back of my hand.
He got up without a word, going to the attached bathroom and wetting a cloth. He brought it to me—but instead of handing it over and allowing me to wash my face, he held my chin firmly in one hand while he ran it over my cheeks.
“Do you really want to know what I think of you?”
I raised my eyes to meet his, and what I saw there… It was a look I had never seen before. A depth of emotion I didn’t think a man would ever feel for me. I was so sure that sort of thing wasn’t for me, that I wasn’t lucky enough to have been born into a life where I’d experience such simple, profound pleasures. Just to have a man look at me that way…
I realized he had asked a question I had no response for. I stammered, helpless—until he pressed his lips to mine and made me forget anything in the world existed but him.
Yes. This is how it’s supposed to be.
Not some tense, emotionless, cringe-worthy kiss, the sort of kisses Antonio had forced on me so many times. This was soft but firm, giving and demanding all at once. He took his time, moving his mouth over mine as his hands found the sides of my face and held me still.
I leaned in, melting into him, my head spinning from all of it. His thumbs stroking my cheeks, his tongue darting out to sweep across my lips until I parted them with a sigh.
I wanted to cry again—this time, with joy and relief. My body came alive, needing and watching and desiring in ways it never had before. Like he had turned on my soul.
He growled, deep and low in the back of his throat, and a heat like nothing I’d ever known blazed in my core. He wanted me as much as I wanted him. Maybe more.
I was the one making him growl like some sort of wild animal.
My fingers curled in his short hair and held his head in place as he held mine while desire took over.
When he pulled away, I followed, leaning forward until it was clear the moment was over.
My eyes snapped open, and a sense of loss came over me. I wanted him back. He stood, fists clenched and nostrils flaring.
“That might have gone too far had I not stopped when I did,” he muttered in a tight, almost unrecognizable voice.
I bit my lip to keep from telling him I wanted things to go too far. I wanted them to go as far as possible.
I chuckled in an attempt to break the tension. “I guess it wouldn’t have been too comfortable, what with me in two casts and everything.” That reminded me of Ainsley and her strangeness. “Speaking of which, Ainsley said something interesting.”
“Oh? She says a lot of interesting things.” He kept his back turned, and I wondered if he was trying to hide his erection.
Something about the idea touched my heart in a way nothing had up to that point.
“This was especially interesting. She said I wouldn’t need my casts for long—I mean, they’re ruined,” I pointed out, needlessly. Of course they were ruined. He was there when I ruined them. “She made it sound like I would heal faster than I’m supposed to. Something like that. What do you think that meant?”
“Who’s to say what she means when she says any of the daft things she comes up with?” He turned to me, shrugging. “I don’t know.”
The weight of the lie hit me hard.
Why would he pretend he didn’t understand? And what was there to pretend about, anyway?
“What sort of place is this, really?” I asked, suspicion clearing away all traces of unfulfilled lust.
“What do you mean, what sort of place? What does it look like?”
“Answering a question with a question?”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m not sure what you want from me. This is a special place, as I told you before. Not a resort.”
“I know that. But don’t you think I should know where I am? My life has been nothing but lies for so long, since my mother died. I can feel something off here. I only ask that you tell me what it is.”
13
Miles
Those eyes of hers. Wide-set, innocent but knowing all at once. Prying into me. Refusing to blink or look away. Demanding to know the truth.
I had the unsettling feeling that she was dipping into my mind, rooting around. Searching for answers, I tried to hide from her.
I couldn’t hide them forever,
could I? She wouldn’t need her casts much longer. She may already have healed, for all I knew. Phillip would have to give her an x-ray to check. But she thought her limbs were broken, so it wasn’t as if she would dare test them.
More than that. Much more. She would have to know who I was, what I was. What we were.
The dragon couldn’t hide forever. I wanted her to know me—it was torture, keeping silent over such a basic, vital part of myself. Just looking into those eyes made me want to tell her everything, to talk until my voice broke and nothing came out but a whisper.
Only this didn’t have to do with just me. I had to be careful. How had the others told their mates who they were? How had the girls reacted? Why didn’t we ever talk about things like that?
I could’ve used a little backup, but it was just me. With her. Fumbling for something to say that wouldn’t sound completely insane to her human ears.
“Well?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.
“You’re impatient.”
“I’ve been waiting to hear this.”
“It’s not an easy thing to explain.”
She leaned back against the pillows with a sigh. “So there is something off here. I knew it. I kept trying to tell myself not to let my imagination run away with me.”
“I’ve found that gut instincts are generally spot-on. What do your instincts tell you about me? Just me, as a person.”
Her face flushed, though she didn’t look away. “That I can trust you.”
“Thank you for that.” I would need her trust in a moment. “And you’re right. You can. Believe it when I tell you what I’m about to.”
“All right,” she whispered, shoulders squaring as though she were readying herself to take on a burden.
“You see…” Where to start?
I went to the doors leading outside and opened them, allowing a breeze to blow in and stir the stale air. It looked as though a storm was about to come in—dark clouds loomed on the horizon. I kept an eye on them as I continued, as though I needed something to focus on in order to keep going.
“There are so many things in this world of which I’d bet you’re unaware.”
“Such as?”
“There’s magic in the world, for one. Did you know that?”
“Magic? Actual, honest-to-God magic?”
I didn’t need to look at her to know she was smirking in disbelief. Likely wondering just who she was talking to, or how stupid I thought she was if I were willing to feed her a line like that.
“What you would call magic. We don’t. It’s everyday life to us.”
“All right…”
I was losing credibility, fast.
“How do you think I managed to rescue you?” I asked, turning my face to the side to catch a glimpse of her.
She frowned. “You told me how.”
“But do you think that was the way it happened? Doesn’t it seem a little convenient? Even a bit of a stretch? That you happened to hit one single place in the water without rocks jutting up from beneath the surface?”
She chewed her lip. “I didn’t think you would have any reason to lie, so I dismissed it.”
“Easy to do, isn’t it?” I turned fully in her direction, my arms aching to hold her as I broke the news but not daring to touch her until I knew she wouldn’t scream bloody murder.
Anyone else, and I wouldn’t have cared nearly as much. Not that I considered myself a bore, not that I would ever force myself on her, but she was even more sensitive to that sort of treatment. The last thing she needed was another man bending her to his will.
“What’s the truth, Miles? And am I going to be able to handle it?”
“I hope so. I would never try to deliberately shock you. But it might be a little much for you. Unless you believe that some of the creatures you heard about in your storybooks as a child are actually real.”
She gaped at me. “I don’t understand this. Which creatures? I’m not even sure I want to know anymore.”
My ego developed a brand-new bruise.
She was afraid to know who I was. She didn’t care enough about me. What did I expect? For her to assure me that it didn’t matter? That I could be a troll or a gnome or a warlock, something ridiculous, and it would be all right because I was such a wonderful fellow?
“It’s too late for that, I’m afraid.”
“You’re right.” She stiffened her spine. “I can take it. Who are you, really?”
“Would you believe a dragon? That we’re all dragons—my clan, anyway? Not Martina or Mary. But the rest of us.”
I didn’t know what to expect. Screaming? Fainting? Laughing? Some combination of the three? I’d never broken the news to a human before.
I had never had a connection to a human like the one I had with her. She was everything. Why didn’t she react?
“Well?” I prompted when her blank face became too much to bear.
“A dragon.” It came out as a soft, breathy sigh. “That’s what it was all about.”
“What what was about?”
“The dream I had. I was riding on a dragon, above the sea. It wasn’t like anything else I ever dreamed—so vivid, so unusual. I mean, a dragon? Since when?” She looked at me, stricken. “It was you. Because you’re a dragon. I don’t understand it, but I get it. If that makes sense. Which I know it doesn’t.”
“You just got a lot thrown at you all at once. I don’t expect sense.” When I sat on the edge of the bed, she didn’t flinch away. “You don’t think this is… frightening?”
“Oh, sure,” she said, waving me off. “I’m scared half to death, because I don’t understand any of it. I’m wondering if I’m not having some late reaction to the pain meds I was on. Or if I’m having another lucid dream—no, because I would know I was dreaming.”
“But you’re not telling me to get the hell out of your room, which is a good start.”
She studied me, eyes roaming over my body, my face. “You look human enough to me. But there’s something different about you, too. You’re better than human. God, I’m usually so much better with words than this.” She touched her hand to her head.
“It’s all right. I expected a lot worse than this.”
“I bet. But I’m not going to lose it. I promise.”
“Thanks for that.”
“A dragon. And all of you are?”
“Everyone in my family. Gate, Ainsley, Leslie, Dallas and Alan, Bonnie…”
“Oh.” She closed her eyes. “So many strange little things make sense now. Just little throwaway statements, that sort of thing. I couldn’t have imagined this being the reason why, of course. I’m supposed to have such a strong imagination. I’ve been making up stories for as long as I can remember.”
“But those are only stories. This is real. We’ve been around for a long, long time. Thousands of years.”
She gasped. “Does Martina know?”
“Of course. It’s not the sort of thing we can hide from our mates.”
Her gaze fixed somewhere over my shoulder, out the open doors. “And she loves him anyway. They’re happy together anyway.” As though she was surprised, or relieved.
“They are.”
The very fact that she was thinking along those lines gave me hope. The future was on her mind, as it was on mine.
“And how did you rescue me? Really?”
“I shifted and caught you on my back before you hit the rocks.”
“Wasn’t that a great risk?”
“Not so great. We were virtually alone.”
“That’s true—I don’t remember seeing anyone else out there. Not even you.”
“No, I was too close to the cliff for you to see me without looking nearly straight down.”
Her head fell back, dropping against the pillows. “If I knew you were there, I wouldn’t have jumped. I would’ve chosen another spot. I was that set on going through with it.” Her voice took on a wistful quality. “I’m still not sure if I’m glad or disappoin
ted that you stopped me.”
“You’re still not sure? Even now?” I wanted to be her hero, to give her a reason to want to live again.
“I go back and forth,” she murmured with a wan smile. “Just being honest. When I was certain someone had come for me, I wanted to die. More than ever.”
“And now?”
“Now?”
Our eyes met, and her smile widened.
“Now, I’m starting to think about living. I don’t hate the idea.”
“I suppose that’s the best I can hope for at the moment. I’ll take it.”
She looked down at the casts, then back at me. “These? Ainsley said I wouldn’t need them much longer.”
“You probably won’t. You might not even need them now.” I grimaced, remembering one more aspect of her story which we hadn’t yet discussed. “You were very badly injured. You hit something.”
“I remember that. It hurt. I lost consciousness.”
“You needed special help. Our blood has healing qualities.”
She blanched. “You used your blood on me?”
“Not mine, specifically, but one of the dragons. It healed your internal injuries, which were extensive, and was used on your broken bones.”
“Oh, my.” She seemed to close in on herself, folding up in a way. She’d heard enough.
“I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what it’s like to have all of this thrown at you, all at once. But at least you don’t have to wear those casts for much longer. Right?”
“Right.” She went back to looking outside. “There’s a storm coming up. Closer all the time.”
“Yes. I noticed.”
Had I lost her? She seemed to be disconnecting. Shutting down. Commenting on the weather wasn’t a good sign.
She cut her eyes to me, her face sharp. “I didn’t know how close I came. You’re talking about serious internal injury, and I’m sitting here, thinking how close I came to dying anyway. Even though you caught me. And you know what’s more disturbing than anything else?”
“What?”
“How mad I am at myself. I almost missed…” Her chin trembled.
“But you didn’t miss me. You didn’t miss being saved. You needed to come as close as you did in order to be saved. This is just the way it was meant to be.”