“You don’t need to worry.”
“Yes. Yes, I do. I’ve seen firsthand just how powerful they are. They obviously found me here, even though I paid cash for my plane ticket. They were behind me the moment I left New York. Normal people can’t do those kinds of things.”
“I’m not normal,” he pointed out.
“No, you’re a drakon.”
“Meaning what? I’m not as smart as them?”
He was frowning again, not a good sign. She hadn’t meant to insult him. “I’m sure you’re very smart. It’s just there are a lot more of them.” She clutched his biceps and tried to shake him. He didn’t even move an inch. She sighed and pressed her hands against his cheeks. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
Tarrant was one of the few precious drakons in the world. Her family had been enslaving and destroying them for centuries. It was her job to right some of the wrongs perpetuated by them. And the way to do that was to protect Tarrant and any other drakon out there.
“Do you know Darius Varkas?” He tensed, his warm body turning almost to stone beneath her. She shivered, suddenly feeling chilled.
“Why do you want to know?” he asked.
“You could call him and warn him that the Knights know about him.”
“He already knows.”
“Oh.” Just like that, she felt deflated. There’d been no need for her to leave New York at all. She’d thought to fly out here to help somehow. Instead, all she’d done was possibly put Tarrant in danger. “I don’t know if the Knights know about you or not.” She didn’t mention her sister. It was easier for her to just use the generic term “Knights”—that large group that clung to the shadows but wielded great power.
…
Tarrant was still buzzing with power from having shifted into his dragon form. Having Valeriya watch him, seeing the delight in her eyes and hearing her praise, had made him feel good. It had also made him incredibly horny.
She was so serious, so set on protecting the world. He didn’t like hearing her talk about his brother. Darius could look after himself. But he understood it. Darius meant nothing to her except a chance at redemption.
Because whether or not she realized it, Valeriya was trying to atone for the actions of her family. And that was impossible. The Knights had been hunting his kind since they’d first discovered a way to enslave them. But before that, in times long gone, they’d been friends and allies.
All that men craved now was power and wealth. Friendship and honor had little meaning in this modern world. They were destroying the planet and themselves along with it, and were too shortsighted to notice. Either that or they didn’t care. Tarrant didn’t know which was worse.
It was no matter to him. As a drakon, he’d be here long after the human race was nothing but a memory. His kind were tough and could survive almost anything. The problem was many of them no longer wanted to survive. Not alone.
“Tarrant?”
He’d been lost in thought, but now he brought his attention back to the amazing woman sitting beside him. “I don’t know if the Knights know about me or not, but I’m quickly learning everything there is to know about this latest group.”
“How?” She was so earnest, so worried. Still, a small part of him urged caution.
“Let’s just say I have resources.”
“I hope so, because the Knights have very deep pockets.” She sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. That easily, he relaxed and pulled her closer. “How do they trap drakons?” she asked. “My grandparents never told me, and Karina never speaks of it, at least not around me.”
He tensed, wondering why she wanted to know. But it was common enough knowledge among both the Knights and the drakons. “They have potions that render a drakon weak. They can then chain the creature. As long as they keep feeding it the potion, it can’t shift back to human form, either.” It had happened to far too many of them before they’d gotten wise and gone into hiding. “There are supposedly incantations and artifacts that can do the same thing.” He’d lived a very long time and knew certain items had great power. So did words.
“That’s horrible.” Tears swam in her eyes. “How can they do such a thing?”
“Power. Wealth. Longevity. Freedom from disease. Men have been killing for less since the dawn of time.
“I know.” She sighed and lowered her gaze. “That doesn’t make it right or easier to bear.”
He rubbed his hand up and down her delicate spine. “They’ll never get a drakon’s treasure. A drakon will die before giving it up.” The words slammed down on him almost like a vow, like a spell of some kind.
He knew his words to be true. A drakon would die before relinquishing his treasure. Up until this moment, his greatest wealth had been the information he’d gleaned from the airwaves. He’d used it to build an empire.
He’d give it all up in a heartbeat to protect Valeriya.
She was now his greatest treasure. He’d never felt more vulnerable in his life. Even as a child, he’d known how to protect himself. And if he faltered, his brothers had come to his aid.
He had no defense against what Valeriya made him feel. God help them both if she ever betrayed him.
“What’s wrong? You’re so tense. I’m sorry if you’re worried about the Knights. I know you must have lost friends over the years. I’m sorry for that, too, and for bringing up bad memories.”
Tarrant knew he could never tell Valeriya what she meant to him. He would never give her the opportunity to betray him.
A little voice in the back of his head reminded him that Darius had trusted Sarah.
And look where that had gotten them. Father Simon was dead because of it.
No, that wasn’t fair. It was Tarrant’s fault for asking his friend to help. And the ultimate blame lay with the Knights of the Dragon.
He would never risk Valeriya. He’d keep her safe.
He stood and lifted her into his arms. She gasped but didn’t ask to be put down. Her trust in him settled some of the anger and confusion swirling around inside him.
“Where are we going?” she asked as he climbed the stairs.
He didn’t want to talk. He needed to feel her bare skin against his, to claim her as his own, to mark her with his kisses. The dragon inside him wanted more, but Tarrant didn’t know exactly what. Whatever it was, it would have to wait.
When he reached the top of the stairs, he pushed the door open. It slammed shut behind him. His phone chimed, and he paused.
“I have to take this.” He carried her toward the kitchen and set her down on one of the stools. Only his brothers had his number.
Valeriya leaned her elbows on the counter and edged closer, making no pretense of giving him privacy. She was obviously going to try to hear every word.
He pulled his phone out of his back pocket and answered it. “Yeah?”
“Anything new to report?” Darius’s deep voice boomed over the line.
“The Knights are after you.” His brother already knew that, but he was curious to see Valeriya’s reaction.
“I already know that,” his brother replied.
Her eyes widened, and she mouthed the words, “Is that Darius Varkas?”
He nodded and kept talking. “I know, but Valeriya Azarov went to a lot of trouble to warn you, so I’m warning you.”
“She’s there in the room with you, isn’t she?”
Always astute his brother. “Yeah.”
“You need to be cautious. This isn’t like with Sarah.”
“No, it’s not. Karina Azarov, Valeriya’s sister, is the leader of the Knights of the Dragon.”
“What!” Darius roared.
Tarrant pulled the phone away from his ear. Valeriya jerked back, her eyes wide. He put the phone back so he could continue the conversation. “I’m looking into it.” That was all his brother needed to know. “I’ll call you when and if I know something. In the meantime, stay safe.” He couldn’t say more, not with Valeriya sitting t
here.
He might want her more than anything else he’d ever coveted, but he would not put his brothers’ lives on the line. After thousands of years of keeping secrets, he couldn’t just start sharing. It went too much against his nature.
He ended the call and tossed his phone on the counter. It was locked and couldn’t be opened without a password. Even if she could open it, she’d find nothing. He didn’t keep any contact numbers on his phone and had created an app that wiped his history after each use. And since he was also the owner of the carrier company, it was easy to ensure that there was no physical record of any of his calls to be found.
His brothers were as safe as he could make them.
“That was him, wasn’t it? That was Darius Varkas. Is he like you? I have so many questions to ask you. You must have lived a long time and seen so much.”
Tarrant didn’t like her interest in his past. He didn’t want to be suspicious, but couldn’t seem to help himself. “I’m more interested in the here and now.”
He stalked toward her. She glanced down, and her eyes widened when she saw the bulge in his pants.
“There’s something to be said for the present,” Valeriya agreed as she slid off the stool and ran her hands up his bare chest.
Chapter Thirteen
Valeriya’s thoughts were whirling with everything that had unfolded in the past hour. Tarrant was a drakon, one of those rare, elusive creatures she’d been obsessed with her entire life. He was big and beautiful in his dragon form—dangerous, too. But she’d been drawn to him before she’d ever known what he truly was.
Now she understood why he’d kept the lights off when they’d made love. It had kept her from seeing his distinguishing tattoos. There were plenty of big men walking around with colorful markings on their skin. But a drakon’s tattoos were unique in the depth of their color, and their sheer beauty, as well as their placement.
Tarrant also knew Darius Varkas. Did that mean that Varkas was also a drakon? It seemed likely, even though she hadn’t been able to learn a whole lot from their phone call.
And none of that mattered, not with Tarrant standing in front of her with his hands on her butt. Her palms rested against his taut abs. She felt positively tiny beside him, even though she wasn’t a short woman. He was just so much bigger.
He pulled her close until her belly was pressed against the rather large bulge in the front of his jeans. Her drakon was aroused.
Her drakon.
Letting herself get more deeply involved with Tarrant wasn’t smart. He was a drakon. The implication of that sunk in. He would be alive hundreds—no, thousands of years after she was dead. He’d already lived a very, very long time. Just trying to wrap her brain around it all was enough to make her dizzy.
He put the edge of his hand beneath her chin and tilted it upward. “What are you thinking?”
She clutched at his waist for support. His skin was so very warm. “You’ve lived for thousands of years, haven’t you?”
The expression in his eyes went from warm to blank in a heartbeat. “You already know?”
She nodded. “Yes, I do, but I still can’t quite reconcile it. You’re four thousand years old.”
He nodded. “I am.”
She hated the tension thrumming between them. She much preferred the sexual heat. She cocked her head to one side and grinned. “You look pretty good for an old guy.”
His jaw dropped, and then he threw back his head and laughed. It was a large booming sound that echoed throughout the space and made her smile.
He shook his head and the uncomfortable tension quickly dissipated, leaving behind a much different kind. “You’re a dangerous woman, Valeriya.”
“Me.” She snorted. “They don’t come any less dangerous than me.” Her sister was the one to be afraid of. Valeriya was just a regular, ordinary woman.
He ran his hand up the length of her spine. “I don’t know about that.”
She shivered at his touch. There was no doubt where this was leading. They’d made love before, but this was somehow different. She wasn’t stupid enough to think there were no more secrets between them. Tarrant was a drakon. He probably had more secrets than a hundred people put together. But he’d shared his biggest one with her.
It made this seem more special somehow, more like they had a real connection.
“Where do you keep disappearing in that active mind of yours?” he asked. He didn’t seem impatient or upset, just interested.
She lifted her arms and linked them around his neck. “I’m sorry. It’s just a lot to take in.”
He nodded. “I imagine it is. Much like finding out the sister of the woman you’re sleeping with is your mortal enemy.”
She winced. “I guess.” This was worse than some Shakespearean drama. “This probably isn’t a good idea, is it?”
He shook his head. “Probably not. But that’s not going to stop me.” He leaned down and kissed her. His lips were soft and warm, and Valeriya forget every reason why they shouldn’t be together.
She went up on her toes to deepen the kiss. Her entire world had exploded, but she’d landed in the safest place possible. She honestly didn’t think Tarrant would do anything to hurt her. She couldn’t say the same about her sister.
Tarrant sucked on her tongue, drawing a moan from deep within her. The outside world could just leave them alone. All she wanted right now was to be with the man currently kissing her senseless.
“Bedroom,” she muttered when he trailed kisses down her jawline and neck.
He shoved his hand under her top and pushed it up and over her head. “Too far away.”
She had to agree. It was too far away.
He undid her bra, whisked it down her arms, and tossed it aside. She helped him with that and then rubbed her breasts against his chest. Her nipples tightened. Tarrant had no chest hair. There was nothing but a broad expanse of warm skin and hard, rippling muscles.
And her earlier question had been answered. His skin was naturally bronze in tone, not tanned.
He bent and caught her around the back of the thighs and lifted. She wrapped her legs around his waist and hung on as he carried her over to one of the large sectional sofas. She thought he’d lay her down on it. Instead, he set her back on her feet.
His gaze was hot as he went down on one knee in front of her and undid her jeans. He unzipped her slowly, as if opening a present. She shivered with longing. No matter what happened, she could never regret her time with Tarrant. He was special in so many ways, and not just because he was a mythical creature, although that did add another layer to her already out-of-control attraction.
She shimmied her hips as he tugged the fabric down, taking her underwear along with her jeans. She put one hand on his shoulder for support as she stepped out of her clothes. He pulled off her socks at the same time, leaving her totally naked.
She wasn’t the least bit cold. How could she be? The room was nice and toasty, not to mention Tarrant’s heated gaze was warming her from the inside out.
“Your turn,” she told him. He was only wearing jeans, but that was still way too much clothing. She wanted him naked.
She eased the zipper down and slid her hands into the opening of his jeans, spreading them wide over his hips. Tarrant groaned, and his erection sprang free from the confining fabric.
She ignored his jeans and traced a finger over a long blue vein running the length of his shaft.
“Valeriya.” There was a wealth of warning in his tone. She ignored it.
Since the sofa was right there, she knelt on the cushions. Tarrant growled, more of a rumble actually, deep in his chest, but he didn’t stop her.
She was fascinated with the silver tattoos swirling over the left side of his chest, down his flank, and ending at his ankle. Even the left side of his penis was tattooed, not to mention one side of his scrotum. It was incredibly sexy.
His shaft was long and thick with a broad head. She wrapped her fingers around him, feeling the p
ulse beat against her palm. She licked her lips and lowered her head.
“Fuck.”
She ignored his unspoken plea to hurry. She wanted to take her time. His cock jerked toward her as she lapped at the slit on the top. He muttered something and then his fingers were nimbly undoing her braid. When he was done, he spread her hair over her shoulders.
She dragged her tongue around the broad head, circling it, licking it like she might an ice cream cone. He tightened his fingers in her hair and tugged lightly on her scalp.
Her drakon was exerting a tremendous amount of control.
Deciding she’d had enough of that, she opened her mouth and took him inside. His roar of pleasure made the dishes in the kitchen rattle. She shivered at the reminder of the primal power contained inside him.
He palmed the back of her head and guided her into a rhythm he liked, slowly gliding in and out of her mouth. With her hand wrapped around the base of his shaft, she controlled how deep he went.
He tasted salty and musky. Touching him, enjoying his obvious pleasure, was having an effect on her. An ache grew between her legs, deep in her core, and her breasts felt full.
“Enough,” he told her. When she didn’t immediately stop, he stepped back.
She looked up at him and frowned. “I wasn’t done.” She’d barely gotten started. She reached out and gave his balls a light squeeze.
He toppled her back onto the sofa and dropped to his knees beside it. He had her legs draped over his shoulders and his face buried between her thighs before she could protest his heavy-handedness. But she really couldn’t complain. Not when he was bringing her such intense pleasure.
…
Tarrant’s dick was close to exploding. For all his years of experience and control, having Valeriya’s sweet mouth on him had almost been too much.
She was fascinated with his tattoos. He’d seen her looking at them. He had a vision of lying on the bed while she ran her tongue over every swirl and line painting the left side of his body. Oh, yeah. That was his idea of a good way to spend an afternoon.
Drakon's Prey (Blood of the Drakon) Page 13