Mia: Dragon Clan

by Skye Jones

  Aiden paced, shaking his head. “Fuck this. We need to leave. Me and Steffan need to leave. You’ll have to deal with this.” He pointed at Rhiannon and Kate.

  Steffan agreed with him. Except for one little problem. He’d promised Nathan. Given his word, and a dragon’s word became his bond, never to be broken. Besides, he owed Nathan. Maybe…

  “I’m staying. I made a vow. But you should go.” He jerked his head at Aiden. “Go back to the guesthouse and pack your stuff. You’ll have to take the train, as we need the car. Which means you’ll have to change once you’ve walked to the outskirts of our land and fly back. But we’ll pick up your bag if you leave it by the Diadre Stone.”

  The Diadre Stone marked the beginning of their territory, and it helped maintain the magic that kept their land hidden from prying human eyes.

  “I don’t see why I should go alone. You’re feeling it, too.” Aiden scowled at him.

  “I won’t act on it. You might.”

  “Not fucking likely. I don’t like the Havsa. It’s an…annoyance. Nothing more.”

  Steffan did not have the time for this. Part of him wanted to take Aiden in hand. Teach him a thing or two, but the young dragon wasn’t his concern. Mia was, because of his promise. “You were the one who suggested we leave. I can’t leave. I’ve a promise to fulfill. You can stay or go. But you stay…and you keep your hands off her. I am taking her back to our clan and keeping her safe until Ice, Nathan, and Dom arrive.”

  “I don’t have any interest in touching her. And you’re not some high and mighty fucking perfect dragon. You sensed it, too. And unlike me, you never leave your fucking cave. I’d be more worried about myself if I were you. I got laid only recently. How long’s it been for you, eh, Steffan?”

  With those parting words, Aiden turned and stormed off along the seafront, walking away from their little group. Steffan let him go. Not his problem.

  “This is going to be an interesting few days.” Rhiannon looked happy about the fact.

  “Can’t you two do something? A spell or something so we aren’t attracted to her?” He hated the pleading tone in his voice. But damn it, Aiden’s words were spot-on. It had been…decades since he’d experienced the touch of another. Hadn’t missed it mostly, but now with a perfect match for a bonded male, and a female made to be his—both within arm’s reach? His control hung by a thin thread.

  “No magic can stop the power of innate attraction between true mates. This perfect triad is an amazing coincidence. Now, why would anyone want to get in the way of that, even if they could?” She patted his cheek once. “I’m going to explore the shops. See you back at the house later.”

  “I’ll come with you.” Kate shot him a concerned glance and trotted after Rhiannon.

  They left him alone, the wind whipping his hair into his eyes, as the careful wall he’d built over centuries began to crack and crumble all around him.

  He needed to think. Not sure what else to do, he turned and walked back to their rental, thankful he’d pocketed the second set of keys.

  Once inside, Steffan stood and looked around his temporary bedroom. He could do without this little trip. His thoughts switched longingly to his cave home and momentarily to his two dogs. He missed them, despite knowing his friend Leah would look after them well.

  Steffan’s thoughts drifted back to the present situation and Aiden’s heated words. He recalled the first time he’d met the young male. It had been some ridiculous clan gathering, and Robert had demanded his presence. He’d gone along reluctantly to hold up the peace. Oh, he’d defeat Robert in an instant, but where would that leave him? As clan leader, and no thank you very much. He didn’t need the hassle. So, he’d attended the needless ceremony and the party afterward. And as the dragons gathered on their land, some in human form, some in dragon form, he’d become aware of someone watching him. He’d turned to see the most gorgeous blond male staring at him. Beautiful green eyes locked with his, and he’d felt attraction bloom for the first time in…decades.

  Since the loss of his mates, more than two centuries ago, he hadn’t experienced the touch of another dragon. And for the last half-dozen decades, he’d not dallied with humans either. Most of the time, his lonely, celibate life didn’t bother him, but now Aiden and Mia had stirred up long dormant yearnings. Ones he had no right to. He’d lost his mates and didn’t deserve, or want, another chance at being bonded.

  These days he lived like a bloody monk, alone and cut off from others. Nathan had asked him to join the Scottish clan, to be nearer him and his mates, but Steffan had declined. He didn’t want to live in a house, trapped within four walls. His cave went on and on. The front lay open to the elements and wild, and sometimes he slept there in dragon form on the nights he needed the freedom.

  Christ, he missed home right the fuck now. His leg throbbed and he groaned. He loved to take long, hot baths in his spacious tub and soak away the aches and pains from his old battle wounds. The thought of his scars brought him back around to the younger dragon playing on his mind. Aiden wouldn’t want him if he saw him without his clothes on; Mia either. His body came crisscrossed with myriad marks. His right leg was the worst, the thigh covered in a livid red line that had never faded and still stung and burned due to the vile poison injected into him all those years ago.

  The same thing had been done to Nathan’s mate, Ice, or Claire, as he should try to remember to call her now. Except she’d gotten to a healer in time. Steffan hadn’t, and only his immense reserves of power and strength had stopped the poison from killing him. But it hurt. Every single day, it niggled away in his leg, burning and driving him half crazy. The scary thing was it grew worse as time went by. About the only thing that stopped it was to sit in a bath hot enough to nearly scald him. The heat of the water soothed the burn of the poison, and he’d get a few hours’ relief.

  Some days, he truly wondered why the fuck he carried on. Living alone. In his cave. In pain. Nothing for company but the memories and echoes of his mates. He missed them every day, but over the years, the loss had become less acute, and he hated that. He wanted the sharp pain of new loss, as it meant they were near to him still. Fresh in his mind. Now, he struggled to remember the exact way their female had laughed at a joke or how they’d both smelled. Yes, he’d rather the acute pain and sharp memories than this lingering loss and depression, along with his memories fading more and more each decade. But he wanted something even more than sweet oblivion or perhaps even death. Revenge.

  The dragon who had done this to him, and killed his mates, must be made to face what he’d done. The ancient dragon known as Rhyndor and his pet witch, Celine, were the reasons Steffan still battled on. One day, he would find Rhyndor and end him. So far, Steffan had hit only dead ends in his search, and none of his friends had found anything concrete either. The cowardly fucker must be lying low. Sometimes there’d be dragons who claimed they’d found him and fought him, but their stories were nonsense. They talked of a dragon brought to his knees by life, who never fought back, and that didn’t fit the bastard whatsoever.

  Steffan had been amazed the gnarly old dragon hadn’t come for him or Nathan before now. Especially since Nathan had taken the life of Rhyndor’s bonded male in retaliation for what had been done to Steffan, hence Steffan’s feeling honor-bound to help Nathan and Claire now.

  He winced at a sharp stab of pain in his thigh. Rubbing the limb, he frowned and gritted his teeth until it passed.

  “You sure you are up to this, young man?” Rhiannon stood in the open doorway and spoke in the ancient language.

  He had to laugh. Only Rhiannon would call him such a name.

  “Tired of shopping already?”

  She merely pursed her lips and waited for him to answer her question.

  He sighed. “I’m sure. I owe Nathan. And I have no stake in the Havsa situation. I’d already withdrawn from the clan when the trouble went down. I don’t think the Havsa were right, don’t get me wrong. Their actions were terrible
. But I also think our clan overreacted in retaliation. And anyway, as I say, I have no iron in this fight. Nathan knows this. My loyalty to him is greater than my loyalty to any clan, and I’m going to make sure Mia is safe.”

  “I think we would have been more than capable of protecting her.” Rhiannon pursed her lips. “Although Aiden is an impertinent and undisciplined young thing. He needs a bonded male. Someone older to take him in hand.”

  Steffan ignored the surge of excitement heating his blood at the idea of being the one to take Aiden in hand and focused on the suddenly interesting carpet. He had to grit his teeth against his pounding blood and racing heart.

  Another shard of pain burst along his thigh as he tensed his muscles, and he winced. Rhiannon watched him with concern. “Your leg?”

  He nodded. “Damn thing’s been playing up recently. No idea why.”

  Secretly, he feared somehow the poison grew stronger because he’d become convinced the pain was getting worse. Which made no sense after hundreds of years. He decided for once to share with another person. “Do you think poison…magic…can suddenly become stronger after hundreds of years?”

  To his shock, Rhiannon’s eyes filled with tears. “No, my friend. But you can get weaker.”

  “What?” He reared back at her answer. No way. He didn’t feel weaker. Oh, but you do, a small voice reminded him. Some days when you ache and burn, you feel much weaker.

  “You’ve been living for centuries on nothing more than a desire for revenge. You’ve shut yourself off from us. Closed down. A soul cannot be fed by vengeance alone. You’re lucky it hasn’t turned your soul and heart dark and bitter, taken you over. You’re still a good male, Steffan, I sense as much. But you need to find something else to live for. Maybe this trip will provide you with it.”

  Her words slammed into him, and his stomach roiled. Did he deny his soul what it needed? How utterly sad, in the real sense of the word, would it be if he simply faded from this life, no vengeance achieved, but nothing else of value gained either? Not sure how the fuck to react, he gave a perfunctory nod.

  Rhiannon sighed but said no more. She gave him one last shrewd glance, then turned away to head back to her own room.

  Tomorrow, he needed to persuade the female to come back with him, get the hell out of here, and leave her in Rhiannon’s capable care until Nathan came for her. His friend owed him. Big-time.

  Mia busied herself tidying and tried to ignore the swarm of insects that had taken residence in her stomach. These were no mere butterflies, more like a nest of angry hornets. She clenched her jaw as another wave of nausea rolled through her, and she tried to ignore her clammy skin. Maybe she’d caught the summer cold going around? A fresh wave of anxiety washed over her, and she gave an exasperated cry and headed to the kitchen.

  She didn’t usually drink much at all, and certainly never during the day, but damn it, she needed something to take the edge off. Never normally an anxious person, and not someone fearful, she hated this feeling. Of course, she’d had moments of fear. Who didn’t? But mostly, other than the depression she’d suffered with since her adopted mother’s death, she lived her life on an even keel. She went after what she wanted and didn’t mess around. So why had she invited those strange people to her home?

  She headed to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of wine from the fridge, turning the screw cap with an impatient twist of her wrist. Just the glug of it going into the glass soothed her nerves a little. The first sip went down like cool, crisp heaven. She sighed and tipped her head back, letting her eyes close.

  These people she was expecting freaked her out. Yesterday, she’d known inviting them here would be a bad idea, but the woman had touched her hand, and she couldn’t for the life of her remember why she’d been concerned. She’d wanted to cancel, but she realized she didn’t know their names, had no contact number for them, and had no idea where they were staying. All of which proved they weren’t legit.

  A rapping at the door set her heart racing once more, and she downed half her glass in one go. She glanced to the back porch where Marlow lay in his basket and, with fear in her heart, trudged to the door. The closer she got, the slower she walked, until she froze, staring at the dark shapes beyond the frosted glass.

  Get a grip. She repeated the mantra over and over as she pulled back the safety chain and swung the heavy door back.

  “Mia! Hello again, dear.” The dark-haired woman gave her a warm smile.

  The lady with the lighter, warm blond hair also grinned at her, friendly and inviting. The two men didn’t. The blond scowled at her as if she’d personally offended him, and the dark-haired vagabond watched her with a carefully neutral expression on his arresting face.

  Why the hell had she invited them here? She hadn’t wanted to, she was certain of that fact now. My God, she must be losing her mind. Wanting one thing, doing the total opposite.

  “I realize we didn’t give you our names yesterday.” Once more, the brunette woman spoke. “I’m Rhiannon. This is Kate.” She pointed to the other woman. “And Aiden and Steffan.”

  “Nice to meet you, Mia.” Steffan stuck his hand out, so she took it out of force of habit.

  The moment his skin made contact with hers, something within her universe tore. As if the atoms she was made of split and reformed into whole new versions of themselves. Her body tingled, her heart raced, and her breath rushed out in quick little gasps.

  Sounds receded. The wind faded, the light in the corridor dimmed, and the floor underneath her moved.

  “Are you okay, Mia?” Rhiannon spoke, and her voice sounded so strange. As if it echoed down a long, long tunnel.

  Mia tried to speak, but her mouth refused to move. Through all this strangeness, she became blindingly aware of one thing. Her very center, her core, throbbed with an ache like nothing she’d experienced before. It took all she had not to pull Steffan to her by the hand she held and melt into him. Merge with his rock-solid body and simply cease to exist as the single entity she’d spent her whole life being.

  Steffan pulled his hand away, and she fell back against the wall, gasping. Sweat beaded on her forehead and her legs shook.

  “Oh, this is quite…unusual. Almost unprecedented. Such a strong reaction. This is not going to be easily ignored or pushed to one side. I’ve heard of matches like this but never witnessed one.”

  Mia had no clue what Rhiannon babbled on about, but she needed to sit down. She didn’t want to pass out.

  “Come, my dear. Lean on me.” Rhiannon held out her arm.

  For some reason, Mia wanted to touch Steffan again. Despite it nearly making her pass out, she needed to feel his skin on hers once more. She reached her arm out blindly, but Rhiannon snatched it away and held on to it.

  “No, my child. Best not to touch him again. Not until you’re feeling stronger, at least.”

  Mia let the woman lead her to her own lounge, legs as shaky as a newborn foal’s. She folded into the chair nearest the door and crumpled in on herself. Her mind tried to catch up with the events of the past few minutes, and as her strength returned, more panic set in.

  How could touching one man’s hand cause such a reaction? She glanced around the room and wanted to scream at the people all watching her with such concern on their faces. She didn’t want to be examined like a specimen in a lab.

  “Do you want some more of the wine you were drinking?” The blond spoke, and his face no longer held hostility. Instead, his green eyes were filled with concern.

  “Yes, please. Wait…how do you know I’m drinking wine? Oh, you know what? Forget it.” She wanted the drink.

  “I’m scared.” There, she’d said it. “I know asking this is stupid, because if you are going to hurt me, you won’t tell me the truth. But what do you really want? This isn’t about my art, is it?”

  Aiden returned with her wine, and she noticed he’d topped up the glass. She took a long, grateful gulp—and another for good measure.

  “It’s not about you
r art.” Rhiannon sat on the sofa and folded her hands in her lap.

  Aiden sat next to Rhiannon and watched Mia, while Kate took the chair at the far end of the room. Steffan stalked to the window and stood with his hands locked behind his back, looking out over the view.

  “We read the report of the incident when you were a teenager. We think we know what occurred.” Rhiannon pursed her lips when she finished speaking.

  Mia’s head shot up. Oh, God. Her ultimate nightmare had come true. They’d finally come for her. The shadowy they her mother warned her about so often had finally caught up with her.

  “Are you going to experiment on me?”

  “What?” Steffan turned from the window, his eyes narrowed.

  “Mum told me… Mum said people might come for me. Nothing happened. Nothing other than what’s in the official reports. I swear.”

  “We aren’t here to do experiments on you.” Steffan walked toward her and shocked her by dropping to one knee in front of her, his arms folded over his other knee, their gazes now level. “You’re one of us. We’re your people, and we’re going to tell you some…frankly, some pretty insane-sounding things. But it’s all true, and if you listen to us with an open mind, you’ll perhaps learn a lot about yourself. Your true self.”

  The light in his eyes flared as he watched her, like a fire burning and ebbing, and the way his eyes shone and then dimmed fascinated her.

  “You want to know what I think, Mia?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. “I think you were trapped in that shed. Locked in by a pathetic little bully, but you were young and you were in the dark and scared. And the longer you spent trapped, the more terrified you became. Eventually, something snapped, and fight-or-flight took over. You simply acted on instinct.”

  He paused and she swallowed hard. So far, so correct, but she could admit as much and still claim she used a match.

  “Then I think, without knowing why, you put your hands to the door and conjured up the image of fire. Bright, hot fire. And as you thought about it, flames burst forth, and you let them burn. You stood there and let them burn, and they didn’t harm you. And then you walked through the flames and the weakened wood and out to freedom. That’s what I think.”