by Ladew, Lisa
She held her hands up in front of her and looked at them. “I-I don’t…” In her memory, flames burst from behind her mother, from their living room couch, from a roll of toilet paper. The thought filled her with a coiling black dread she could not hold and she began to make a soft noise, pulling her hands into her chest. She shifted from one foot to another, feeling like she was a little girl, so little, and something bad was about to happen. Something worse than a spanking. Worse than having her toys taken from her. So bad. No, mommy, no! I don’t want to go!
Her muscles tensed and her arms extended and she slammed her palm into her forehead at the temple, over and over, trying to stop the horrible pain there─
Graeme’s hands caught hers, holding her so she couldn’t hit herself again. “Shhh, lass, shhhhh. Don’t think about it for a second. Just let it go. I will not ask ye to think about it again.”
Heather burst into tears and let him pull her into his chest and comfort her.
Chapter 21
They stood that way for a long time. An owl hooted somewhere in the forest and for the first time, Heather wondered if Graeme had unwittingly killed any animals with his burning. Her mind was coming back to normal, allowing Graeme’s words to soothe it.
He separated them slightly and stared deep into her eyes. “I cannot hypnotize you, but I can relax you and sometimes that can be the same thing. Would you let me try?”
Her eyes narrowed. “That’s what you tried to do to me in Serenity, after I saw you as a dragon the first time.”
He nodded. “Aye.”
“You would have taken that knowledge from me?”
“Aye, if I could have.”
“It would have driven me insane.”
He pulled her hands up to her chest and cradled them between them. “I know that now. I promise to never try again without your permission.”
She stared at him a long time, then gave him a curt nod. “Please do.”
He smiled and dropped her hands. “Wait right here.”
He strode a few feet away and made a pile of needles, sticks, and other forest debris, pushing it all together, then he turned his back to her and bent over it. Within a moment, a tiny bonfire was blazing merrily, then he returned to her and sat cross-legged on the ground, holding out a hand to her.
She dropped to her knees next to him and he positioned her until she was lying stretched out on the forest floor, her head in his lap, her eyes toward the fire. The forest floor heated up underneath her to a comfortable temperature.
Graeme ran the pad of his thumb gently over first one of her eyebrows, then the other, over and over, then pulled his fingers through her hair so lightly it sent tingles all through her body, then he returned to her eyebrows. Her eyes drifted closed, but she could still feel the warmth of the fire on her face and hear its soft popping and crackling.
Graeme spoke to her, his voice soft and soothing, lulling her. “When I was a wyrmling, my mother would do this to me when my brothers had tormented me before bed, saying the dragonslayers would get me while I slept. Dragonslayers hunted us because of who we were, never guessing we were also like them, so they did not find us easily. For dragen, fire is a difficult thing. We cannot live without it. Cannot take a vow of abstinence and say we will never start another. It lives too strongly in our bones. We need it too much. It would be like saying we will never take food or drink into our body again. Such a thing would kill us. But with the lure of fire comes shame too, as it is a powerful thing, and no one who wields fire like we do can escape hurting another. So my mother would take my head in her lap and rub my eyebrows and tell me this.”
Graeme waited a moment, then his voice changed slightly, became higher. “Fire is the giver of life, the bringer of heat and succor. There is nothing wrong with fire, and there is nothing wrong with dragen. You cannot fight who you are. To do so is madness. But like a great wolf, fire can overwhelm you. You must always be the stronger, the one in control.”
Heather took a deep breath and let Graeme’s mother’s words wash over her. She wondered what his mother had looked like. What her name had been.
“Then my mother would sing me this song, over and over, until I fell asleep. In the morning, I would always feel better.”
Graeme gathered himself, then recited what sounded like a nursery rhyme.
The water is wide, but I can cross.
For I have the wings to fly.
I shan’t need a boat that can carry two,
For we can soar aloft, my love and I.
I leaned my back up against a young oak
Thinking it were a trusty tree
But first it bent and then it broke
Thus my strength slayed me.
O love is sweet and love is kind
The sweetest flow’r when first it’s new
But love grows old and waxes cold
And fades away like the morning dew
Heather shivered at the words, then opened her eyes. “Ask me again.”
“Can you start fires?”
“Yes, I used to when I was little. With my mind, and my hands.”
“How little?”
“Three, maybe. Four and five. Maybe younger.” Heather’s voice broke and she realized she was crying again.
“Why did you stop?”
“My mother took me to a doctor and he─he fastened electrodes on my head and sent electricity through my brain.”
Graeme’s hands faltered, stopping their rhythm, then quickly started again, rougher than they had been before. Heather let out a great sighing sob and half-sat up, then leaned to the right, waiting for a sudden nausea to pass. It did, quickly, but she stayed that way and spoke into the dirt. “Oh, my God, my mother gave me shock treatment when I was a little girl. I haven’t started a fire since. Not on purpose anyway.”
Graeme pulled her hair through his fingers, still trying to soothe her. After her mind had quieted again, he spoke. “I think you should start a fire. Here. Now.”
Heather lifted herself onto her elbow and stared into his handsome face. “You’re right.” She curled an elbow around his neck and pulled herself up to him, not giving either one of them a chance to think, then pressed her lips to his, her mouth open slightly, seeking him, inviting him.
She wanted him to respond more than she wanted anything in the world.
Chapter 22
Graeme groaned into Heather’s mouth as the tip of her tongue touched the tip of his, sending waves of pleasure through his body. He pulled her into his arms, then bent to lay her out flat on the ground and cover her body with his. Why had he refused this for so long? The kiss was everything. Better than the hottest fire or the highest flight.
Their bodies rolled over the forest floor as she wrestled to be on top, grabbed his head and pulled herself in closer to him, then he had to be the one with the leverage to get them even closer, the fire and the moon giving him plenty of light to see her by.
She squeaked and moaned against his lips, and he took the chance to kiss down her neck, making her shudder and throw her head back. She climbed on top of him again and unzipped her jacket, then threw it onto the ground, dropping her mouth to his as his hands grasped her breasts. So perfect! So soft and yielding, even through her bra. Like nothing he’d ever touched before.
Their kiss lengthened and he began to heat up uncontrollably. He took his hands off her breasts and curled them around her back, tucking her to the ground and rolling over her again, kissing her neck, trying to get his temperature under control again. The shift in her scent was not helping. It had deepened until he could almost taste it. Rich chicory tea heaped with toasted sugar and warm milk. A sweet, hot drink he desperately wanted.
“Graeme, let me…” she said, trying to get her hands between them. He propped himself up, and she pulled her shirt over her head, revealing what had been hidden before. Lost! He was lost at the sight. He would burn straight through the mountain if he got any hotter. He dipped his head and suckled her hard nipples th
rough the fabric of her red, lacy bra that called to him like a bull in a ring. He felt his erection grow and strain against his pants, but he ignored it. This would never be about him. It would be ok, if it were not about him.
He slipped a strap down off her shoulder, then moved to kiss the creamy skin there. Lovely, she was so lovely. The most beautiful being he’d ever seen, in the air or on land.
Somehow, she made the bra disappear. Her breasts lay bare before him, calling to him in a voice he could not resist for a second. He dropped his mouth to first one pink, peaked nipple, then the second, his hands covering the one his mouth was not on. Oh, the sweetness!
“Heather,” he murmured into her perfect skin. “I burn for you. I would slay a hundred demons, incinerate a thousand villages for you.”
“Yes, yes, I want to see them burn,” she cried underneath him, her back arched to expose more of herself to him.
He groaned and kissed the skin of her stomach. She would be the death of him. His death. Something he’d wanted for so many years, but didn’t anymore. He could be happy forever if she were with him, even if they could never properly mate, as long as he could kiss her, worship her, just like this.
She rolled again and he went with her, letting her climb on top of him, her legs straddling him, until her hands went to his pants, grasping what had grown there.
He grunted and rolled her again, pinning her arms to her side, kissing her mercilessly, covering every exposed inch of skin with his mouth.
“Graeme,” she cried, bucking underneath him. “Please, I want you so bad. I’ve wanted this since our first meeting.”
“Aye, you shall have what you need, I promise you.”
He let go of her arms long enough to remove her pants, staring at the simple fabric that covered her when they were gone. Like a gift, she became more beautiful with every piece he unwrapped. Slowly, he pulled her panties down her legs, taking it all in. Gorgeous. Perfect.
He looked up at her eyes and she was watching him, her hair a halo full of forest needles. He smiled. “So bonnie, you are. All of you.”
She smiled back shyly and reached for him. He took each of her hands and kissed the palms, then pinned them to her sides again as he nudged her knees apart so he could give her what he would allow himself to give.
He breathed hard on the downy curls he found, heating them, making her moan. Then he moved below, readying her with his breath before he began to kiss her, to ply her with his tongue, moving slowly enough that he could gauge her reaction to his every movement. Her taste was as divine as he knew it would be, deep, robust sweetness, better than the finest tea or cocoa.
He watched her face, watched the movements of her body as she stiffened and her breathing came faster. Yes, right there. He found the spot that she reacted to the most and played with it, touching it gently and kissing around it, then he slid his tongue up it until it swelled, plump and ripe. He slid his tongue back down and she cried out, lifting her hips as her cry rolled away down the mountain.
Graeme teased his way around the sweet spot again as she tried to speak but couldn’t get the words out.
“Please,” she finally cried and he could refuse her no more.
He latched on gently, taking her into him, using his tongue as it came to him, gratified when first her legs began to shudder, then her entire body. Her hands fisted, pulling away, but he held them firm as she lifted her hips and cried out in a way he’d never heard before.
When he was certain of all her pleasure taken, when her body had relaxed and sunk to the ground, he kissed her a few more times, then climbed to lie next to her, nuzzling her shoulder with his lips, directing his body heat towards her as she caught her breath, eyes closed, full lips parted, chest heaving.
Around them, the sounds of the forest started up slowly. No bugs, too cold. But the hardiest birds chirped hesitantly, then more strongly, and small mammals rustled in the leaves and the trees, calling warnings to each other. He looked around, realizing the night was receding. The sun would greet them soon.
“Graeme,” she said without opening her eyes. “I don’t really want you to burn any villages for me.”
He laughed, an open easy sound in the crisp air, feeling his heart leave him and go to her, ignoring the part of him that wanted more than he would ever give it. “I know, bonnie, I know.”
She reached for him then, and he forgot himself for a moment, allowing her hand to roam over his erection, losing himself in the incredible sensation. Too quickly─ not quickly enough he came to his senses. No!
He jumped up, wishing he had a shirt to take off to cover her with. He began to gather her clothing, not daring to look at her face, to see the expression there.
“Come, my leannan, my bonnie, my lovely,” he said, still facing away from her. “Let us return to my cottage where I can take care of you properly.”
Chapter 23
Ella skipped down the stairs, pausing at the first landing to look out the window at the males in the driveway. Her mate was there, locked in conversation with Mac and Harlan. Harlan stood on tiptoes and held his hands over his head, as if indicating how big something was. Mac spit in the dirt and shuddered, a frown on his face. So, that was why Trevor had left their bed early. She would have to think of a way to get him back up there before their day properly started.
She continued to the bottom and found Trent and Smokey facing each other, nose to nose, tails held high, Smokey’s tail twitching at the very tip. Ella stopped, watching, trying to catch any thoughts in the air, but there was nothing.
Smokey’s tail twitched a final time and then he broke contact with Trent, running over to sniff at Chelsea, who was sitting on Trevor’s chair, waiting.
Ella caught Trent’s eye. Were you talking?
Trent’s deep rumble in her head made her smile, as it always did when he spoke, because it was so rare to hear it. It made her think of mountains and glaciers and planets. Consistent. Unmovable.
I don’t know if Smokey can communicate in that way. I’ve never heard him say a word.
What were you doing?
He wants to do it most mornings. I’m not totally sure why. Sometimes it seems like he is memorizing me in a way that goes deeper than sight or scent. Like he will someday need to know me by feel alone. Trent sighed. Or maybe I’m just being philosophical.
Smokey finished with Chelsea and ran out the wolf door. They both watched him through the window as he disappeared into the forest. They knew by experience he wouldn’t return until nightfall.
Trent sat on his haunches, his expression stoic. I don’t know where he goes, but he makes me want to wander sometimes.
Ella panicked a little at the words and the tone. She sank down to her knees and ran her fingers through Trent’s fur, staring in his eyes. You aren’t thinking of leaving us, are you?
Trent didn’t answer for a long time. When she thought for sure he would not, he rolled his eyes to look at the sky out the large front window. It’s hard to have a foot in two worlds but belong in neither. Sometimes I do wonder if I would fit in better in the other world.
What other world?
Trent rolled his eyes back to hers. The world of the wolf.
Ella bit the inside of her lip, then saw Trent had looked away from her again. Now he seemed to be watching Troy, who was outside in the driveway speaking with Bruin, the big bearen who held watch most days at their place. Her stomach rolled. Does Troy feel the same way?
Trent licked her arm, then stood and headed outdoors himself, although she knew he would not be conversing with any of the males in the driveway. He would head into the woods, just like Smokey, but stay much closer. Before he pushed his way out the door, he spoke to her one last time. You must trust your own thoughts on that, Ella. I may be biased.
Ella stared after him, thinking she would definitely talk to Trevor, maybe to Wade. She hated to see Trent unhappy, and until today, she hadn’t thought of him as such.
She wandered into the kitchen to
see what there was to clean up before she began breakfast for herself. If she didn’t eat soon enough after waking, and if she didn’t eat enough, Trevor would start trying to feed her grapes or ice cream or chocolate or sausages, or anything, really. Remington had said her pregnancy looked perfectly normal and healthy, but she wasn’t far enough along to know how many young her belly held, and in case it was more than one, she needed to be extra sure to get enough protein and vitamins. Trevor pushed food on her at every opportunity.
Behind her, the front door opened and closed and she knew it was her mate. She looked around frantically for a hair tie. Finding one on the kitchen windowsill, she put her hair up in a quick bun on top of her head, then pulled the strap of her pajama tank top to the side slightly as she heard Trevor enter the kitchen. It worked, he started growling immediately, then crossed the room in two long strides and buried one hand in her hair, the other around her waist, pulling her to him.
She let her head fall to the right side, exposing the mark he’d left on her skin even more, and he dropped his mouth to it, nibbling her lightly, sending sweet arrows of pleasure down her body.
“I think someone wants something,” he murmured into her ear, as he followed the curve of her neck with his mouth.
“Is there time?”
“Always time for you,” he rasped. But then his phone buzzed in his pocket. He swore and pulled it out, reading the text there. “Wade wants us at the station, now.”
“Ok,” she said, trying not to feel disappointed. They stayed connected during their day better when they started the morning off with attention to each other, and she would miss that if it didn’t happen.
He turned her in his arms and the phone had disappeared. “We can make up time on the drive in,” he said, then bent and picked her up, throwing her over his shoulder.
She shrieked and laughed as he ran up the steps, with her in a fireman’s carry.