Dragon Craving: Emerald Dragons Book 3

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Dragon Craving: Emerald Dragons Book 3 Page 13

by Amelia Jade


  Cheryl backpedaled some more as massive wings spread wide on either side of him before settling down against powerful flanks of the…the…

  “You’re a freaking dragon?” she shouted, her voice just barely back under control. “That’s a hell of a magic trick you’re going to pull.”

  The green lizard-like snout lowered toward the ground, tilting slightly so it could look her in the eyes. The big yellow orb with its vertical pupil blinked. “It’s not a trick.”

  It was Rowe’s voice. But it was the dragon’s mouth moving. The sound of it was deeper, more fluid, almost musical in nature, but still completely Rowe, there was no doubting that.

  “Wait a minute. Hold up.” She held up a hand, shaking her head. “You’re a dragon shifter? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”

  The dragon’s head bobbed up and down, a sinuous, graceful motion at the end of its long neck. “Yes.”

  “Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy freaking shit.” She wrung her hands together, staring at the scale-clad beast, horns rising from its head, membranous wings topped with claws, and the long tail topped with a solid bone-like protuberance. Steam rose from its nostrils, and claws the size of her legs dug deep into the frozen ground.

  “Cheryl, are you okay?”

  “No, I’m not okay.” She started forward abruptly, scaring the dragon a bit.

  Scaring Rowe.

  “This is so COOL!” She ran forward, running her hands along his sides, feeling the chill of his scales under her fingertips.

  “Uh, so you’re all right with this?”

  “Oh yeah.”

  Rowe was confused. “That went over much better than I expected.”

  She laughed. “I’ve had a few days to get used to the idea of wolf shifters being a thing. I really have two options, don’t I? One, I’m hallucinating, in which case sweet, a dragon. The other option is I’m not hallucinating, which means this is real. A dragon was unexpected, but this is so bad ass!” She touched the claws of his feet. They were as big around as her waist. Those wolves were in for a world of hurt.

  “You can kick some serious ass with those, can’t you?” she asked, rapping her knuckles against one of the claws.

  “Yes, yes I can. That’s why I wanted you to leave.”

  “Why? So I wouldn’t see this? Which is uber cool. I’m totally fangirling. I always loved the idea of dragons, to be honest.”

  Rowe chuckled. “Part of it was this, yes. I can handle them on my own, as you can see. It’s you that I was worried for. I wasn’t lying when I told you I loved you, Cheryl.”

  She stepped back, regarding the majestic creature that was her man. Man-dragon? Part of her made a connection and she started giggling.

  “You find that funny?”

  “No!” she said. In fact, she was hoping to say some words of her own about what he’d just said. “It’s just…well. This is embarrassing.”

  “It is? I don’t understand.”

  “Well, you’re a dragon, right? And we’ve been hooking up. So I’ve been fucking a dragon. And there’s this line of sex toys, and the name of them…” She buried her head in her hands, putting space between them so that he could change back. “I can’t, I’m sorry!”

  The dragon was still staring at her, the one eye he had trained on her bright, eager. Filled with love. For her. Cheryl calmed. It was time.

  “Listen, Rowe, I’ve been giving this a lot of thought. I needed the time, and—”

  “Well, your time is up.”

  She froze, fear thickening her blood, stiffening her limbs.

  That wasn’t Rowe’s voice.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Rowe

  His neck swung around fast enough that several of the wolves at the speaker’s side flinched. They had just walked around the side of the silos, perhaps fifty feet away from where he stood. Most of them were shifted. Four of them were not. And they were all clumped together.

  Rowe spread his wings, ready to leap into the air and take them on, hoping to end it all in one fell swoop. They were ready for him though, and the instant he did that they spread apart, staggering their distances from him and each other.

  Very well, it would just take him several passes then. His legs tensed and he made ready to leap into the air. These shifters were about to learn a very real, and very harsh truth. Unfortunately none of them would be alive to make use of their knowledge.

  “Rowe?”

  He stopped, frozen still as a statue as all his calculations came crashing down around him. Cheryl stepped up to his side, looking out at the arrayed shifters, including the four still in human form.

  Crap. The last thing he could do now was take to the skies. If he did that, they would get too close to his mate. He could still probably blast them with gas, but shifters were tougher than humans. It would take more time and more effort from him to kill them. Time that they could get to her, but also time that would expose her to his own weapons. She might be his mate, but she was still a human, and his gas would kill her as easily as it would anyone else.

  He could control his power, make the gas dance to his tune, and do some fairly interesting things with it. There were few even in the enclave that had his raw strength. It was still gas, however, and a gust of wind would blow some loose. In a major battle such as the one he would have to undertake, the grounds around him would be untenable to anyone not inured to the effects.

  Which meant he was limited to his physical weapons. Close combat on foot was not a dragon’s specialty. Almost the exact opposite really; they were terrible at it. Rowe in particular was not overly graceful when landbound. That was a skill most dragons neglected, and only learned it as they aged through the simple expedient of experience.

  This was not going to go well. His scales were impervious to many things, including most smaller-scale human weapons. Other shifters was not on that list. Whatever it was about the genetic makeup of shifters, his scales would part under enough power from a wolf’s bite or claws. It would take them time, however, which meant a major advantage to him, especially in one-on-one combat. A singular wolf, or even a few, wouldn’t stand a chance.

  One dragon versus fourteen? Not good odds.

  “What do I do, Rowe?” She was nervous. Scared.

  “You should have made her leave.” It was the same speaker as the one who’d delivered him the ultimatum. He was big, with lots of muscle. Bigger than Rowe in his human form, which was unusual. Unless…

  “Made her leave?” He laughed, letting the deep booming sound wash over the assembled pack. A dragon’s laugh was much slower than a human’s, but the bass behind it was unmatched, and he could see at least one wolf unsettled by it. “You obviously don’t know her very well.”

  “She is a woman. Just pick her up and make her go. Only a weak-willed man would let her be so stubborn.”

  Rowe grinned suddenly, letting his teeth show. “You know, Rusty was by all accounts an asshole, but now I see where he got it from.”

  “Enough talk.” The huge man changed into an unbelievably large wolf with fur of deep sable, and eyes the yellow of the sun.

  The coloring was cool, but other than that, the size wasn’t as big of an issue as it might have been. With him fighting in dragon form, it just meant a bigger target. Easier to hit. Rowe eyed the other three men who had yet to change. They were big too, not quite his height, but thicker. Barrel-chested, with blocky chins and big foreheads.

  When they changed, it wasn’t into wolves. A trio of grizzlies, each easily double the size of the black wolf shook themselves out, staring up at the dragon with hate-filled eyes.

  “Whoa whoa. Where did you dig up those from?”

  Bear shifters were notoriously private. They hated dealing with anyone, let alone a pack of wolves. What the hell had he done to deserve three of them? A closer look at the trio revealed the same markings over their left eye. He frowned. Vague memories of rumors of a mercenary trio of bear shifters floated to the surface. That had to be it
—they were hired muscle. No way in hell they would normally work with wolves. Too bad; if it were something else perhaps he could have exploited the natural hostility between races.

  “Cheryl,” he said calmly, turning left-side on, blocking her from as much of the coming fray as he could. “Stay behind me like this at all times. You’ve got to keep moving. I can’t spare the time to ensure you’re out of the way.”

  “O-Okay.”

  There wasn’t time for him to give her a pep talk, because all at once they charged. Not one or two at a time. All fourteen came at him at once. That was so not fair.

  He whipped his tail around as the wolf on his left got too eager.

  “Take that!” he shouted as the clubbed tip sent the beast sliding across the ground, mewling in pain. A perfect shot.

  A wolf coming down the center snarled and leapt toward his back. Bad, bad move. The dragon ducked his head low and speared the creature on one of the horns on his head, shaking it around like a bull before flinging it into the path of another.

  One of the bears reached his flank and huge claws spilled bright green scales to the ground. Rowe roared and bit down on the flank of the creature, but a wolf jumping for his face made him rear back. Flapping that wing he stirred up dust, forcing the other shifters to cover their eyes. On his face one of his trio of eyelids flicked over, allowing him to still see while giving him protection from the airborne debris.

  Cheryl shouted out a warning and he snatched up a wolf trying to make its way around his flank to get at her. His jaw muscles tensed. Bone crunched. The wolf yipped once, and then went limp. Rowe used it like a bowling ball, knocking two more wolves down.

  Another bear came at him. A mighty dragon paw swept at the creature, but it didn’t come within range. A feint, he realized, as two other bears dug their claws in deep to his side. They were spaced evenly apart, forcing him to choose one. So he did, and that bear roared as it received the full brunt of a dragon-sized headbutt.

  His left flank was ablaze in agony now, the ground littered with fallen scales. Wolves darted in and out, occasionally adding more prizes to the building pile. The bears worked in unison, inflicting the big wounds when he couldn’t stop them in time. Rowe worked hard, but he was flagging, his strength waning. There were just too many of them, and without the full use of his powers, he couldn’t stop them.

  “Cheryl!” he bellowed, shrinking down, letting them all slink in closer.

  “Rowe?”

  He swung his head around and spoke in the softest whisper. “I’m your bodyguard, your bed partner, and your…” he trailed off, forced to resume fighting, but not before he saw the understanding dawn in her eyes. “When I say so!” he yelled, exploding into action.

  Lulled by his complacency, the attacking shifters had come in close, and he drove them all back with a frantic series of attacks with his tail, wings, and teeth.

  “Now!”

  He waited several seconds to allow her to get clear, then spun in a wide circle, keeping the animals at bay as his deadly tail scythed through the open space between them. A quick glance over his shoulder showed his mate sprinting toward the smallest barn with all her might. Legs churned, knees rising and falling, arms swinging with abandon. Her hair was free of the ponytail, reddish-blonde in the afternoon sun as it trailed behind her.

  They were going to make it. She had enough of a lead, and he was holding off the others. Once she was clear he could unleash hell. Not before. Run, he urged her silently, kicking out with a paw as a wolf darted between his outer defenses. The motley gray and white beast screamed as his claw punctured its cheek, ripping skin from bone in a gruesome display.

  “Ew,” he growled, shaking his foot to try and rid himself of the disgusting trophy.

  He spun again, driving them all back, using the spin to check on his mate’s progress. Rowe’s eyes went wide.

  “CHERYL!” he bellowed at the top of his lungs, lunging forward in horror.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Cheryl

  She was gasping for air, but the barn doors were in reach.

  Not slowing herself, she slammed into the wooden barrier and heaved with all her remaining might. Metal squealed loudly but it started to roll open, just enough for her to slip through. Cheryl fell through the crack, pulling herself out of the way as the heavy door started to roll closed on its own.

  Wood splintered and the entire wall shook violently as a huge black snout tried to push its way through the closing door. Cheryl screamed and got to her feet. Teeth the color of bone snarled and snapped at her, saliva flying everywhere. Two yellow eyes glared at her through the opening with ferocious malevolence as the wolf worked the door open. She knew if it took a second to pay attention it could just shoulder it aside, but its focus was on her. Cheryl wasn’t sure if she was thankful for that or not.

  Looking around wildly for a weapon, any weapon, her eyes settled on the perfect implement. Darting to the side, she took up her weapon and stabbed it forward with all her might.

  The wolf howled and pulled back, pitchfork embedded in its chest. As it did the door rolled closed, hitting the handle of the farm tool at an angle. The wooden haft twisted wildly out of her grip, tossing Cheryl to the floor with ease. She hit a support beam and lay there for a moment. But only a moment.

  From outside the barn there was a roar that didn’t belong to a dragon, and once more the door shook. This time human fingers pulled it open, and the huge man who seemed to be the leader peered through at her, his eyes human, but still full of hatred.

  “Now you’re—Ooph!”

  Something hit him in the back of the head and he slid aside woozily. Rowe’s familiar black hair and goatee replaced him, jumping through.

  “Let’s go!” he shouted, pointing behind her at the ATV that had been her goal all along.

  Cheryl got to her feet and jumped on the back.

  “You drive!” he roared, the sound of bones breaking coming from behind her.

  “Me drive?” she squeaked. He’d not let her drive before, and now, in the most critical time he wanted her behind the wheel. Handlebars. Whatever!

  “Just do it!”

  She slid forward and thumbed the ignition, thankful that they kept the keys in it at all times so anyone could use it. The four-wheeler came to life and a moment later Rowe was there.

  “Go!” he hollered, pointing at the back door.

  “It’s closed!”

  He turned away long enough to deliver a punch that stunned a snow-white wolf, and then ran for the back door as she gunned it anyway.

  Rowe hit the doors and spread his arms wide.

  The side of the barn simply exploded under the force of his blow. Both doors ripped from their tracks and pinwheeled out across the frozen ground, shattering into pieces. One of them clipped a gray wolf that had been trying to get around behind them, severing one of its forelegs completely.

  Cheryl hunkered down low, eyes closed to slits since she hadn’t taken the time to get the helmet. Gunning the engine she flew through the opening, only slowing long enough for Rowe to jump on behind her. Then they were off.

  A few seconds later she realized his arms weren’t around her. Risking a glimpse over her shoulder, she saw him facing backward. He lifted a hand as one wolf raced up alongside them, and a blast of green mist the width of her leg shot from his palm.

  The wolf screamed and fell away, fur melting from its sides as it rolled on the ground, the mud stopping whatever was eating away at it.

  Cheryl’s stomach flip flopped and she faced ahead once more as they raced through the fields, trying to put distance between them. Every now and then she would glimpse a burst of green in the side mirrors, or a wolf would shriek in agony. Rowe shouted in pain at one point, but he never fell off, so she just kept driving.

  The ground was bumpy and hard and it tossed them wildly in their seats. Cheryl had never been so scared before, her hair whipping behind her, dirt starting to clog her eyes. She couldn’t stop
though. Stopping would kill them both. No way she was going to risk that after all Rowe had done to save her ass.

  “HEAD BACK!” he shouted as they crested the top of one of the few gentle hills that dotted the lands.

  “WHAT?” she shrieked back. “ARE YOU NUTS?”

  “Circle around! It’s the only way. Trust me, Cheryl.”

  Aww hell. Without saying anything more she slew the vehicle around. She would head back, but she was going to circle around. No way she was going to go back down the same path. That was suicide in her mind, and nothing, not even Rowe, was convincing her otherwise.

  The crazy chase continued in a giant loop. At one point a wolf came so close she reached out with a foot and kicked it in the jaw. The creature wasn’t hurt, but it hadn’t expected her to do anything and the momentary distraction was long enough for Rowe to reach over and rip an ear off it.

  Eventually the ranch came back into sight. She gunned the throttled as the ground evened out and they shot forward.

  “STOP!” he hollered.

  By this point she didn’t question his commands. She just responded. The ATV careened to a halt, rocking wildly up on two wheels and threatening to tip over. It probably would have if Rowe hadn’t shifted his weight. They crashed back down onto level ground, her teeth chattering. That was going to leave a mark on her, if she survived the next little bit.

  Behind them the other shifters had come to a wary halt. The black one, sporting a massive welt down its side and a bald spot behind its head, shifted. “Do you surrender?” the leader asked impassively.

  How could he not care after all that? She knew there were several dead wolves spread out around the property, judging by the fact she only counted two bears and seven wolves remaining. Nine. That meant five had died or were too badly hurt to join them. The bears both looked worse for wear, but none of them backed down.

  “Of course not,” Rowe drawled, leaning against the ATV.

  “Then you shall die.”

 

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