At his impatience, she cozied into her desk chair, rather than sitting up stiff as a board opposite him.
“I feel no connection to you,” she told him bluntly. “No reason for me to think we’re mated.”
“You wouldn’t. That’s not how it works with a Dragon Shifter’s mate bond.”
“It isn’t?” She scowled. “How do you know then?”
“There is only one way to discover the truth.” He sucked in a breath like he was seeking both patience and calm. “You have to meet my beast.”
Two
The past month of Remy Dreconis’ life had been spent on the tedious task of whittling down a half-dozen female Sanguen to the one who sat before him now.
He’d not lie. Of all the Sanguenna he’d met afore, this one...this one held promise.
It mattered not that she was the last on a long list. That she had to be his leman. This one aroused something in him that had never been touched before.
It was bloody unnerving, if truth were told, and he was having a hard time holding his patience as she sat there gawking at him like a lunatic who belonged in Bedlam.
She was beautiful. Aye, he’d give her that. Long black hair that matched his. Oh, the ’ling they’d make together with such similar coloring. A boy who was a miniature version of him or even a girl who looked like her.
She, with her violet-hued almond-shaped eyes, was a striking female. A firm and obstinate chin thanks to cheekbones so sharp and pointed, they made the scales on his beast’s tail look dulled. Skin like cream, with a dusting of gold and peach, and lips made to be kissed.
She was tall. Not as tall as he, naturally. But at six feet, above average. She wore that height well too. Slender but with a ripe curve of hip and waist that would be a pleasure to unveil in bed sport.
Even now, as she looked upon him like he was a lackwit, her beauty shone through with a forgiveness that beggared belief.
“Close your mouth, Sanguenna, afore you catch too many flies.”
His voice was gruffer than he’d intended, but she was affecting him in ways that were most promising. She disliked his gruffness though. Sitting up poker straight, her nose popped upright with disgust. “I’ll not be told what to do in my own office!”
“Wasn’t an order,” he immediately denied. “More of a suggestion.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “This is insane,” she said again, as though the repeating of it would change things.
“Maybe it is.” He shrugged. Smirked. “Maybe it isn’t.”
“Why only female Sanguen and Dragon Shifters?” she asked, an interesting hoarseness to her tone appearing at the question.
“It’s a matter of power and strength, as I said.”
“I want details,” she groused. “Not just bare bones.”
He sighed. “How can I explain magic? How can you explain managing to see hundreds of winters and all because you sup from some poor sap’s neck?
“These things aren’t always meant to be explained.”
She stared at him a second, sat forward, and rested her elbows on her desk. The posture did interesting things to her breasts, which bandied together in an intriguing fashion in the bodice of her silky dress.
“I call bullshit.”
He blinked at her. Then, baring his teeth, murmured, “Do me the singular courtesy of meeting with my beast. Things will soon become apparent.”
She snorted at that. “Meet your beast, like we can just go next door and you can shift. How do I know if I can trust you? I’m no fool—it’s illegal for your kind to shift in this realm, which means I have to take the time out of my very busy night to go to the other realm to meet your beast.”
Her lack of faith was understanding, but it didn’t stop it from irking him. The others had been the same, but they’d never managed to do more than bore him. His irritation was another sign that this particular Sanguenna was different.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone. Heading to his gallery, he found the correct video and hit play.
“Sister Sanguenna, whoever you are. I was as skeptical as you, as fearful and untrusting as you...” He turned the cell around and shoved it along the slippery surface of her desk until it came to a halt before her. “Remy Dreconis is a decent male. You can travel to the next realm with no fear. He will bring you back.”
Mia stared down at the video as it came to a halt, then looked over to him. “She could be anyone.”
He rolled his eyes. “Swipe left.”
Another video, another testimony.
“That one’s in Seattle. Call her. See if she speaks the truth.”
She tilted her head to the side. “I know of only one female Sanguen in the Seattle area.”
“You are friends?”
“Hardly.” She huffed. “Sanguenna have no friends.”
The latter was said without arrogance, but there was a glimmer of sadness there. He knew she’d been a Sanguenna for close to five decades but had seen more than two centuries. That was a hellish long time to have been alone.
He knew, because he’d been alone for far longer. Even Dragons, renowned for the need for solitude, felt the creeping tendrils of isolation after so much time spent without their other halves.
“Call her,” he urged softly. “She will tell you true. Lara was one of the most difficult to convince as she was the first on my list. I had no videos to use to persuade her, to sway her to my cause.”
“How did you get her to believe you?”
He clucked his tongue in disgust at the memory. “It is of no import.”
“If you want me to go to another realm with you, you need to start sharing, buddy.”
Remy narrowed his eyes. “I had to give one of her retinue something. Collateral, as it were.”
She blinked, curiosity piqued. “What kind of collateral?”
He clenched his jaw, his beast still feeling outrage at the memory. “A Dragon...” His nostrils flared. “A Dragon has sixteen thousand and seventy-two scales.”
“Huh?”
He growled under his breath, then repeated the fact with waspish precision. “Each Dragon. In existence. It is a peculiarity shared among every single member of my species.”
“But that’s impossible.”
“Nay, it isn’t. Humans all have the same amount of DNA, do they not?” She sat back, digesting his logic and nodding at him to continue. “Remove a single scale, we cannot fly.”
Her mouth dropped open as she processed his words. “I didn’t know that.”
“Now you do.” His eyes darkened, and he felt the whip-like shift as the nictitating membrane swooped over his vision. “As did she.”
Her brow puckered. “You mean, Lara knew that and asked for a scale as collateral anyway?”
He pursed his lips. “She did, and I ceded to the demand.”
“Wow,” she breathed, leaning forward again. “That’s why Dragon scales are priceless.”
“You say that like I’m unaware of this,” he told her, disgust lacing his tone. “I am still unable to fly overlong thanks to her demand.”
Maybe she saw how that affected him because her lips turned down. “I’m sorry. When will you be able to fly normally again?”
He appreciated her apology. It was the first time a Sanguenna had offered a ‘sorry’ for his treatment at a sister’s hands. Some had even had the audacity to demand a similar price! Until he’d convinced them to speak with Lara, who had thankfully aided him in his task.
Perhaps out of guilt, or gratitude for the scale—Mia wasn’t wrong. Dragon scales were immeasurably precious.
“I should be back to normal in a week or so.”
“They grow back?”
He nodded. “Slowly. Depending on the size. Thankfully, she accepted a small scale. One from my foreleg.” He winced in memory at how damned hard it had been to comply with the bitch’s request. Scales were not meant to be plucked like a feather from a dead hen.
“Are you going to
call her?” he asked, folding his arms across his chest, irritation weighing him down at the sore manner in which the Sanguennas had treated him thus far.
Knowing he’d be stuck with one of them, regardless of their potentially cruel natures, had been particularly harrowing.
Lara had known full well the priceless nature of a scale, she’d also known the ramifications of his doing without one, and had known the pain it would cause for him to accede to her wishes—she’d made the demand regardless.
He’d been rather grateful to learn she wasn’t his mate. No matter how he longed for his leman, he prayed the Mother wasn’t so cruel as to gift him a sadistic, avaricious harpy for a life mate.
Mia studied him again, and he noticed her fingers were twitching against the surface of her desk. Stroking the polished wood in a way that spoke of a need to fidget away her nerves or confusion.
Slowly, she shook her head. “You vow not to hurt me?”
He sat up straighter, arms dropping aside at her words. If that was her request, and such a simple one at that, he felt no compunction in being generous. “I will seal it with blood if that is thy wish.”
He winced at his archaic speech, but using ‘thy’ instead of ‘you’ had been a longer custom than the reverse.
Not that she seemed to notice, too intrigued by his last statement to care. “You would do that?”
He nodded. “With ease. You are the last, gracious Sanguenna. You must be my leman. I have no compunction in easing any concerns that help me in my quest to proving such.”
Another slow nod was his reply, and she got to her feet, rounded the desk, and perched opposite him. “Where?” she asked, huskily.
“For ease, my palm.”
Was he wrong in seeing the flash of regret in her countenance as she raised her own hand to her mouth, took the fleshy part beside her thumb between her lips, and bit down?
Instantly, the scent of blood flooded the atmosphere, making her violet eyes flash like his beast’s. The pupils turned from circles into thin slits. The black leeching away to be replaced with a white that seared him with heat. Like an automaton, he lifted his hand for her. She grabbed it, pressed her nose into the cup of his palm, sniffed, and then struck.
He grunted as her teeth slid deep and shook off the discomfort.
When they were mated, she’d feed from no other than he. He would need to get accustomed to the peculiar pain.
She didn’t drink from him, though he knew temptation was riding her. He saw it in the way her mouth hitched up, her fangs retracted slowly, and the long, deep hiss that whispered from her as she released a hold on his flesh. She practically shoved his fingers away from her face, clasping their hands together so the wounds touched and blood merged.
As they did, he murmured, “Upon my honor, I swear you will come to no ill in our travels to the next realm. You are safe in my protection. Upon my life, I vow this to thee.”
At his words, the slitted pupils disappeared, replaced with the regular black circles.
She fluttered her lashes a little and separated their hands. The urge hit him to keep their palms connected, but the inner tension dispersed somewhat when he saw her distinct lack of eagerness to part too.
“Is there a time difference between realms?”
He frowned in surprise at the question. “Yes. Time runs slower there.”
His four hundred years of solitude were more like six hundred in this realm, and every single blasted one weighed like an albatross about his neck.
“How much slower?”
“For every twelve months that pass there, eighteen pass here. Roughly.”
“And how long does it take to get there?”
“It is as simple as crossing through a portal.”
“And where’s this portal?” she inquired, her interest stirring.
“They usually run on ley lines. There are several in the States. The portal that opens up nearest to my home, however, is in Scotland.”
“It is?” She peered at him. “I’ve never been to Scotland.”
He smiled, surprised by the whimsy in her voice. “We can use that portal if you wish.” Hell, he’d take her to Timbuktu if it meant getting her to the other side so his beast could meet her.
That she was willing to do this without leveraging a deal with him filled him with hope for what lay in the future. A beautiful leman was a boon, a kind one? A gem beyond compare.
“It’s impractical,” she said on a sigh, and though he sensed her disappointment and felt for her, the nightwalker’s next words irked him. He knew she thought he was full of smoke, that she believed she wasn’t his mate. “I need to be here. It’s the Holiday season, and Christmas is coming up.” Her smile was sheepish. “It’s my favorite time of the year.”
Astonished by the admission, as paranormals rarely followed human tradition, he decided to smile back rather than mock her for her foolishness.
Everyone had their quirks. Didn’t his Queen have more than most? For his leman to be unusual only made her that much more salacious an acquisition. And where Dragons and hoarding were concerned, they went together better than pastrami on rye.
“We shouldn’t have an issue with returning. If you’re not my mate, that is.” Though it was difficult, he refrained from imbuing the words with smugness. To him, there was no doubt what she was but he didn’t want her to think him arrogant.
Not that she could judge. All Vamps were arrogant. Every Shifter knew that. From their endless trite rituals to the amount of protocol they had to follow in their daily life. It was a wonder the race had made it to this point and weren’t languishing behind in all their genuflecting and bowing and scraping.
She studied him a second. “And if I am?”
Which she had to be. “Then,” he conceded, “it might be a little more difficult.”
“Why?”
He sighed. “There’s a ceremony to fulfil.” She should like that, considering all the ceremonies that were inherent in Vamp culture.
Small hope.
Her lips pursed. “And that might take a while?” He could almost see the dollar signs in her eyes as she pondered her businesses and the lost time steering her coven, and while to many that might have been unattractive, a Dragon understood the need for a large treasure.
What else would he use as a mattress after all?
“It takes however long it takes.” He shrugged. “It depends on the alignment of the moon.” It was a lie, but he couldn’t tell her the full truth. Not yet.
Starting a relationship this way wasn’t ideal but nothing with his race was. Why should this be any different?
“So, I might miss Christmas?”
“We can always celebrate it there,” he offered, tensing when her shoulders slumped.
“How long do you expect to be away, if we are mates?”
This business-like conversation was starting to annoy him. He understood her priorities weren’t with him yet, but with her coven and its finances.
That didn’t lessen his beast’s anger any.
“Most paranormals want to find their mates,” he sniped.
“A mate means being restricted, controlled,” she waspishly replied. “It means I have to answer to someone when I’ve answered to no one, save the Vampire council, for hundreds of years.” Her smile was tight, and he missed the relaxed curve of her lips from moments before. “If I were a male, then, perhaps I would view the potential with joy.”
“I’m not going to restrict your life,” he retorted, hurt by her declaration.
“You will.” She folded her arms across her chest. “You will disapprove if I return here to my coven. You will disapprove if I attend to my businesses instead of yours. You will bring difficulty to my life, when before there was none. What’s to be happy about when all you’re going to do is bring inconvenience to my world?”
“I can live in this realm too,” he replied testily, not liking her assumption that all the ‘taking’ would be on his part. “I can even—”<
br />
“This is of no import.” She sliced a decisive hand through the air, her ease with ruling evident at that moment. “Just don’t expect me to do a happy dance.”
He frowned. “What’s a happy dance?”
She gawked at him. “When was the last time you lived on this realm for any length of time?”
He pulled at his collar, which suddenly felt very tight. “I return for a few decades every now and then.”
“When?” she demanded, sitting straighter in her chair.
“I was around with the Vikings; we got on quite well, actually. The Black Death had me returning home the next time.” He shrugged. “I’ve witnessed a fair amount.”
“Since the new Millennium,” she demanded. “How long have you spent on this realm?”
“A few months.”
“And yet, you expect me to believe you’ll be happy to live here for extended periods of time?”
He huffed out a breath and begged for patience. “What would you have me do, Mia? Apologize if we are mated?”
She blinked and, in a small voice, whispered, “No.”
“Then what?” he persisted, his tone softening. “Compromise...that is what we must do in the future. Do you think I will be content if my mate is anything but happy?” At her hesitation, his hands fisted with annoyance. “I am not like the night and daywalkers you know. Nor am I like any human male in your acquaintance.” His beast didn’t like the idea of her knowing any male, but the man knew how ridiculous that was. “Not only am I your mate, I am a Dragon Shifter. We—”
She butt in, “We don’t know that for certain. I feel nothing for you—”
He cocked a brow at her, daring her to deny her initial reaction to him.
Her mouth tightened, but satisfaction filled him when she changed tack and instead blustered, “Aren’t Dragons renowned for being the most arrogant of the lot?” Then, she demanded, “The most difficult?”
They were, but he wouldn’t admit to that. Instead, he just said, “Would we be mated if your fire and mine couldn’t burn happily alongside one another?”
She looked away. “This is irrelevant. Pointless… How do we find out the truth?”
Coven: (A Steamy Dragon Shifter/Vampire Romance) (Dragon Bound Book 1) Page 3