Shades Of Dragon (A BBW Dragon-Shifter Paranormal Romance)

by Catherine Vale

  Yes, well, that’s because he isn’t exactly a man, she thought to herself. He’s a dragon shifter. Someone who isn’t meant to be with a human.

  What was she thinking, having lascivious thoughts about someone who she couldn’t have? And especially at a time like this, when her father’s life was on the line?

  “We’re at the Meadowlands Forest,” Tegan told her. “I brought us here to regroup because you’re injured, and the last thing that I want to do is bring you back to the clan when you’re hurt and bleeding. Some of them are old enough to remember the times when they used to feast on humans, and it’s not a good idea to remind them of the taste of human flesh.”

  “Oh.” A shudder ran through Ciara’s battered body as an image of a dragon’s maw opening wide to devour her, its eyes glowing hungrily at her. Fear weakened her muscles, and her knees actually gave out. She collapsed to the ground, taking in huge, gulping breaths as panic threatened to overwhelm her.

  Tegan was at her side in an instant, gathering her in his strong, warm embrace, pressing her cheek against his chest and rubbing his hands up and down her back.

  “Shhh,” he murmured in her ear, his lips so close he nearly touched her earlobe. “It’s alright. I didn’t mean to frighten you like that. Nothing’s going to happen to you so long as you’re in my protection. I swear that to you.”

  Ciara’s body started trembling in earnest now that she was officially out of danger and the adrenaline had worn off, letting her emotions and all the pain spill forth. “It’s not just that,” she said, a sob threatening to choke off her words. “It’s everything that’s happened. It’s been so hard…watching dragons swoop out of the sky and grab my people, friends and neighbors that I’ve grown up alongside since I was a child. It’s that I’ve been hiding in a cellar for hours wondering if I’ll be next, and whether I’ll ever see the light of day again. They took everyone, and killed the ones who resisted.” A sob rippled out of her chest, tears streaking her cheeks all over again. “And my father, my dear, sweet father. They took him away and I may never see him again.”

  Tegan placed a hand at the back of her head, stroking his fingers through her hair as she cried. She clung to him, soaking him with her tears, and letting all of her grief and anger and helplessness pour out, until she was a puddle of exhaustion in his arms.

  “Thank you,” she whispered against his chest when it was finally done. “I really needed that.”

  “I know.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, surprising her, and a pleasant kind of warmth flooded through her body. “It has to be very difficult, losing your entire village in one night.”

  She nodded, and then winced as pain shot through her shoulder. “I… I think I’m hurt.”

  “You certainly are,” Tegan said dryly, glancing at her shoulder. She followed his gaze, and then gasped to see that her dress was in tatters, and large claw marks raked across her fair skin. Blood was caked all over the wound, dried rivulets disappearing beneath the blood-stained fabric. “I think the first order of business is to get you cleaned up, so lets do that before we attract unwanted attention from the beasts who live in this forest.”

  Before she could say anything, he scooped her up into his arms and carried her deeper into the forest. Ciara clung to him, her eyes widening as they disappeared beneath the canopy of trees – it was unlike anything she ever saw before. Gone were the pines and maples that she was familiar with – these trees had enormous trunks, and strangely shaped branches, vines crawling up them and even hanging down some of them. Strange, tubular shaped plants grew up in places along the ground, alongside bushes that seemed ordinary, but boasted tropical looking flowers of every hue.

  “This place… it’s very strange.”

  Tegan chuckled. “It is,” he said, the rumbling in his chest comforting to her. “But you get used to it after awhile.”

  “After awhile?” She frowned up at him. “Do you come here often?”

  Tegan’s face darkened briefly, but the expression was gone in an instant. “I lived here,” he said lightly. “For a few years.”

  “Years?” Shock slackened her features. “Why on earth would you do that?”

  “I didn’t have much choice,” he said, and then was silent for a few seconds. The babble of a brook drew her attention, and she turned her head to see that they were headed towards a stream. “My mother left me here when I was only eight years old.”

  “She abandoned you in this place?” Shock and anger colored Ciara’s tone, and she felt a kind of indignant outrage for her rescuer. “That’s horrible. I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

  He smiled tenderly down at her, but she didn’t miss the lingering sadness and pain at the edges of his eyes. “That’s because you were raised by a good family, surrounded by good people. Or at least that’s what I’ve surmised, based on how you speak of your father.”

  “Yes,” Ciara said slowly, her chest aching at the thought of her father, alone and possibly chained up somewhere, beaten and starved, and who knew what else they did to slaves? But she forced herself to push the dark thought away – they were talking about Tegan now, not her family. “I’m so sorry, Tegan. Every child deserves to be brought up by parents who love them.”

  “It’s okay. I got a second chance with Grey, so I turned out just fine.” Tegan gently lowered her next to a stream. “He raised me like I was his own, so I was never lacking for anything, once he took me in.” His lips curved into a smile, though she was certain it was only for her benefit. “I’m going to go and get some things to dress your wound. Call out my name if you need any help.”

  He strode off into the brushes, and Ciara watched him go, her eyes unconsciously roaming over his muscular body. He had broad shoulders and a strong-looking back, and she wondered if his ass looked just as fine as the rest of him.

  Stop that, a voice in her mind scolded. That’s not what we’re here for. He’s just dressing your wounds and preparing to take you back to the clan. The whole point is that we’re here to get your father back. Okay? That’s it.

  Sucking in a breath to calm herself, Ciara turned away from the trail Tegan had taken, and looked around. Now that she had the time to collect herself, she felt her body relax. She closed her eyes, and took in the sounds of the birds whistling at each other, of the trees rustling as animals flitted through the branches, chasing after each other, or simply hopping around and searching for food. She smiled at the sight of a squirrel happily digging at the base of a tree across the brook, and of a smaller, mouse-like creature scampering toward the edge of the stream to take a drink. The sight reminded her of the fact that she, too, was parched, and so she dipped her head forward and cupped her hands in the water so she could bring some of the cool liquid to her lips.

  As she did, she caught sight of her tearstained, blotchy reflection in the water, and she nearly laughed at how horrible she looked. Her hair looked like a rat’s nest, and her face looked like someone had repeatedly slapped and pinched it until it was red and swollen. Tegan probably thought she was the ugliest woman he’d ever met! There was no point at all in entertaining thoughts of what he would look like naked.

  If that’s the case, then what was it that you felt when he pressed your body against his back in the cellar? A voice suddenly argued in her head. Just something in his pocket?

  Her entire face flushed as she remembered the feel of his manhood pressing against her bottom through her dress, and she splashed the water against her face to try and rid herself of the memory. The cool water felt refreshing against her face, and she scooped up another to gulp it down greedily, icy wetness sliding down her parched, aching throat and easing some of the pain inside her. Oh god, she didn’t realize how much she’d needed this until she was down on her knees beside the stream. And now that she was drinking, she didn’t know if she was ever going to stop.

  “Careful now,” Tegan’s voice said from behind her. “If you drink too much you might end up getting sick.”

 
; Ciara gulped down one last handful of water, and then rose up onto her knees again. She definitely didn’t need to add throwing up to her list of embarrassing things to do in front of Tegan. “You’re right,” she said as he knelt down in front of her. “I guess I just got carried away.”

  “I don’t blame you,” he said, smiling. “You seem pretty thirsty.” He reached for her shoulder, and then an uncertainty filled his eyes and he stopped, his hand hovering just above her flesh. “Ciara… do you mind if I, umm, pull this down?”

  “Huh?” Ciara looked over and realized that he was asking her to basically pull down the top of her dress. Color bloomed on her cheeks as well as his. “Umm, yes, of course.” She grabbed what was left of the hem and tugged the shoulders of her dress down, gathering the fabric at her chest to cover her breasts as best as she could while he worked.

  She didn’t miss the flare of heat from his eyes as his gaze brushed over the swell of her bosom, though, or the way his fingers lingered as they brushed against her skin. The pads of his fingers were warm and rough, and they sent tingles through her. Or at least, that’s how they felt before they brushed her wounds. Then she hissed, pain zinging through her.

  “Ouch,” he murmured in agreement, nodding his head. He laid out the tools he’d gathered up from the forest beside him, and Ciara watched as he set to work, grinding up a bunch of leaves – herbs for healing, she guessed – in a shell using a stone as a pestle to make a kind of poultice. When he was done, he took a kind of soft bark that resembled cloth and dipped it in the stream, then cleaned the blood off her wounds, trying to be as gentle as he could. Ciara bit down on her lip to keep from crying out in pain – she wished that she was stronger than this, but the truth was, she’d never been seriously wounded in her life and the pain from the dragon’s claw marks was excruciating. She didn’t know how warriors went into battle dealing with injuries like this. She could barely stand having just a single one!

  “You’re doing great,” he murmured, clearly sensing her discomfort though she said nothing aloud. “We’re almost done here.” He scooped up the paste in his hand and began applying it liberally to her shoulder. Ciara groaned in relief as the cooling paste immediately began to go to work on the injury, her muscles sagging as the pain began to leave her body.

  “This is amazing,” she said, her eyes half closing as a pleasant warmth seeped into the area following the initial coolness. “Where did you learn to do this?”

  Tegan shrugged. “Trial and error,” he said to her. “I had to treat enough of my own injuries during the time that I lived here that I quickly learned which plants in which combinations helped, and which ones didn’t.”

  Ciara winced the implication of his words. “Did… did you ever poison yourself?”

  He nodded. “A couple of times.” He grabbed another piece of bark and began applying it to the wound to cover the area, then ripped the tattered sleeve of her dress and used it to bind up the wound. Ciara winced a little again as he tightened it, but she quickly got used to the pressure, which she knew was necessary in order to help stop the bleeding. “But thankfully as a shifter, it takes a bit more than poison to kill me,” he chuckled, “but I did lay around in excruciating pain for a few days before I was back on my feet.”

  “That’s terrible,” Ciara whispered, reaching out to touch the side of his face. “You… you’ve been through so much.”

  His eyes heated again, and she was acutely aware of the stubble of his jaw scraping her palm, off the heat from his hand flooding through her hand, and into her body. “That was a long time ago,” he finally said. “Nothing more than a distant memory. The pain you feel now is much more real, and pertinent. You need not give me any of your sympathies.”

  “Maybe not,” Ciara agreed, “but that doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to, does it? I see the pain that you still carry inside you, Tegan. I know you’re still haunted by your past, and it touches me. I… I feel it, just as I feel my own.”

  Tegan stared at her for a long moment. “You’re pretty amazing, you know,” he finally said. “Compassionate as well as beautiful.”

  A blush spread across Ciara’s cheeks then, and she looked away. “Hardly,” she said quietly, knowing that she looked like a wreck, especially now that she was basically clutching rags to her chest and little else. “I certainly don’t look my best right now.”

  “Maybe not, but the fact that you’re still so breathtaking despite being through such a horrible ordeal is impressive,” Tegan replied with a smile, and this time it was he who reached out and touched her cheek. “You’re a special woman, Ciara Richards. I saw that from the moment I laid eyes on you, even in the darkness of the cellar when I wasn’t able to see you clearly.”

  A warm glow spread from the center of Ciara’s chest through her entire body, and her heart began to beat faster as she realized just how close they were to each other. His lips were a breath away from hers, his body so close she could feel his warmth radiating out from his hard muscles, and into her. Chills ran up and down her body, a kind of delicious anticipation that she hadn’t felt from anyone in a long, long time.

  “I…” she started to say, but then she lost the words as his lips were on her, warm and soft and gently demanding. His arms came around her waist to pull her into his lap, and she went willingly, twining her arms around his neck so she could kiss him back. The shock of having a man’s lips touch her for the first time was quickly overridden by all the other sensations – of his rough stubble against her cheeks, of his hard chest pressing against her breasts, of his manhood rubbing against her thigh. Heat bloomed between her legs, an insistent ache that she needed filled, that she’d never experienced in her entire life, and a gasp escaped her lips as she recognized the feeling as sexual desire.

  She wanted him, the way she’d never wanted even the most red-blooded male in her village.

  Abruptly the kiss was broken, Tegan leaning back, his chest rising and falling as he breathed rapidly. “I’m sorry,” he said gruffly, depositing her back down onto the ground and then standing up. “I should not have done that.”

  “No, I – “ Ciara started to reassure him that he’d done nothing wrong, that they both wanted the same thing, that he should stop talking and kiss her again –

  But Tegan cut her off with a shake of his head. “I should go get dinner. Please, stay here and make yourself comfortable. I’ll be back soon.”

  Tears welled up in Ciara’s eyes as he disappeared into the brush again for the second time. Angry with herself, she swiped them away. What on earth was she crying about? He was her rescuer, not her lover; he wasn’t obligated to return these ridiculous feelings of hers. Likely he recognized it just as much as she did that any kind of relationship between them was highly inappropriate, and he simply had more willpower than she did. It would be best that he just walk away, as he was doing now, instead of giving in to their desires, especially when so much was at stake right now.

  But as she turned back to the water, and stared at her sad reflection, all she could think about was the way Tegan’s lips felt on hers, and wonder whether or not she would ever get the chance to feel them again.

  Chapter Seven

  By the Gods, I am such an idiot.

  Tegan cursed himself roundly as he tromped back through the brush, a dead wildcat slung over his shoulder. He hardly felt the weight of the huge beast on his back – his mind was still caught up in the fact that he’d kissed Ciara, that he’d nearly lost himself in her soft curves and even softer lips, and that he’d been mere seconds away from stripping off her clothes and having his way with her right there on the forest floor.

  Just what the hell is wrong with me?

  He didn’t know what it was about her that beguiled him so – there were beautiful women in the dragon shifter clan, that was for sure. Was it the way she smiled, her lips curving sweetly, beckoning him to kiss them? The way she smelled, that vanilla-cardamom scent that begged him to bury his nose in her neck and inhale? Was it
her long, slender limbs and insanely sexy curves that tempted him to slide the fabric of her dress off of her voluptuous frame, and see if his imagination lived up to reality?

  Perhaps it was her pain that called to him, the tragedy that, while not the same as his own, was still nevertheless haunting to him. Dragon shifter females were strong and independent and lacked the vulnerability in Ciara that seemed to call to him like a beacon. He wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around her, and shield her from the horrors of the world… and if he had the opportunity to feel her curves pressed up against them and breathe in her sweet vanilla-cardamom scent, well even better.

  His steps slowed a little as he started to calm down, and relax. Truthfully, it really wasn’t such a big deal – he was just bringing her to the clan so she could talk to Grey, and soon enough she would be on her way back to living amongst her kind, and he would go back to living his life as a member of the Redwater Clan. In fact, so long as they didn’t spend too much time alone together he really didn’t think it would be all that difficult to say goodbye when the time came. He just needed to keep his distance and everything would be fine.

  His mind settled, he picked up the pace and strode into the clearing by the stream where he’d left Ciara, intent on getting dinner cooking so that they would both be well-fed and he could get on with the rest of the things that needed to be done tonight. But instead of finding Ciara sitting by the stream, he saw her standing in the lake, scooping up handfuls of water and letting it run down her body.

  Her very wet, curvy, and naked body.

  The wildcat carcass slid from his shoulder to land on the ground, somewhere near where his jaw had dropped. Holy gods, he thought, his eyes hungrily devouring her naked flesh. She was magnificent, all peaches and cream and gorgeous curves, her hips generously flared. Her ass was round and full, just begging to be cupped by his hands, and squeezed tightly, and her legs, oh her legs…they were beautifully long and slender. Her calves disappeared beneath the water, but he imagined they were just as lovely as the rest of her. A burning desire to see the front of her body took hold of him, to see what colors her nipples were, and if her breasts were as exquisitely shaped as they appeared beneath her dress, but he didn’t want to disturb the tranquil, yet erotic moment, and so he simply stood there, holding his breath, fixed on the beautiful woman in front of him.