by Amelia Jade
With a sigh of delight, he released it from its prison. Winds raced through him, singing their praises at this unexpected joy.
Internally wasn’t the only place changes were happening though. Anyone watching him would have seen a miniature tornado appear as if from thin air, wrapping him inside of its protective cocoon, moving so swiftly that it began to occlude him from sight. The whirling air expanded in size, doubling, and then doubling again, not stopping until it encompassed well over half of the stone circle, and still it grew.
The air began to shriek as it whistled past him, but Zander barely noticed. He was in the midst of his transformation, and past the impenetrable screen of the air around him, impressive changes were taking place.
His limbs had swollen in size, his arms lengthening until he rested on all fours instead of upright. Already-tanned skin took on a brass sheen to it, a metallic glow that increased as his skin hardened, scales the size of a knight’s shield pushing forth from underneath, covering him in a protective layer that few things could pierce.
Joints rippled and reversed and his body suddenly seemed far away. This was the most disorienting part of the change for Zander, when his neck elongated to a hundred times its normal length. He knew that to anyone observing it took a few seconds at best, but to him, the one experiencing all the changes, it felt like so much more.
Pressure slammed into his shoulders as muscles and skin bunched, forming massive bulges that suddenly split open as desert-colored wings exploded from his back. His flat face jutted forward, sprouting three-inch-long teeth at the same time.
Then, and only then, when the final parts of his change were complete, did the whistling, shrieking globe of wind die away into nothing. That was the reason for the stones. With Zander it wasn’t too much of an issue. As he finished changing the wind simply pushed outward until it dissipated. But that was because he was a Gale Dragon, master of the winds. While he was dangerous, it wasn’t as bad as many of the other types.
Fire Dragons, for instance, when they finished shifting, were surrounded by fire which would push its way out in a six-inch-high wave that would stretch right to the limits of the circles. If it weren’t for such shifting areas, vast parts of the earth would be scorched.
Or frozen, by the Frost Dragons, or blasted by the lightning of the Electro Dragons. That was why most buildings had such circles nearby.
Zander flexed and his wings shot out wide, stretching them briefly before he summoned the energy to take to the skies. He was in no rush now, having left Riss far behind.
Taloned paws scraped the stone as he remembered his flight from her place only minutes ago. Rain still came down from the sky, splashing against his scales and wings in an irritating, but ultimately ignorable fashion.
The embarrassment he felt, however, could not be washed away so easily. With an irritable snort he took to the skies with a powerful jump, his wings sweeping downward to lift him clear of the ground.
Five strong wingbeats later the ground was already receding below him as he found a nearby thermal and rode it high into the sky. His body knew what it was doing, which was good, because his brain was far away.
She’s just a pawn in this, Zander. You can’t let yourself go falling for her. That would be most…unwise of you at this stage of the game.
Another voice rose up from inside him, doing little to reassure Zander that he was still sane, as the two of them began to go back and forth while he winged across the sky to his destination.
There’s something about this girl. She’s…different. And not deserving of the hurt that will come when it ends.
He snarled and unleashed a blast of his breath weapon into the sky, a cyclone of air that blasted through a nearby cloud, the whirling power of his attack scattering the gray rain-filled cushion into nothingness.
You need her, so that you can convince your mother to turn everything over to you, and not that imbecile Kieran.
But do you have to do it so secretly? She might go along with the ploy if you just spoke to her, told her the truth.
It’s too late for that now. I’m in too deep.
There was no reply, as if his conscience, the part that was urging him to tell her everything, had no counter argument to it.
That was the truth of it though, he was in too deep. His actions tonight had made it so. The moment his lips touched hers, those soft, plump pink-stained lips, it had been too late. The connection had been made, though Riss wasn’t the only one who felt it. Zander had as well, if he could just bring himself to accept it.
He bared his dragon teeth in a silent snarl.
No woman had power over him!
Yet even as he said that to himself, he knew it wasn’t true. Not anymore.
His destination came into view, and thankful for the reprieve from his own mind, he began to descend. The lights were still on, indicating the person he’d come to see was still awake.
***
“Mother?” he called, closing the front door behind him.
There was a rustling from a side room down the hallway, and then a woman emerged. Zander tried not to let his shock show at the effects age was having on her, but it was tough, so very tough.
“Hello Zander,” Irene Pierce said with a welcome smile, holding out her arms as her oldest—and only—son swept her up into a giant, but gentle hug.
“How are you?” he asked, setting her down.
“Oh, as well as I can be,” she replied, turning stiffly to move back into the room she had just exited. “Come on, come on.”
Zander followed close behind, practically doddering over her as the elderly woman made her way to a comfortable, if well worn, reclining chair.
She sighed as the cushions molded themselves to her body, and Zander took a seat opposite her, noting the way the light splashed across her, highlighting the white of her hair and the frailty of her limbs.
His mother had had Zander late in life, having been near the millennium mark before he came into the world. Now approaching her twelve hundredth birthday—not that shifters really marked those besides the big one hundred and one thousand—she was exceptionally old.
“So,” she said without preamble. “Have you found a mate, my son?”
Despite the frailty of her body and the swiftness with which it was getting worse—when dragons aged, it could happen in years, not decades, and his mother had months left, at best—there was still a fire of intelligence and passion in her eyes. The mind didn’t fail, only the body, which was perhaps the worst of it all. His mother was trapped in there, knowing everything that was going on, but unable to change a thing about it.
“Not yet, Mom,” he said with a softness uncharacteristic for him. If anyone else had heard him speaking, they would have denied that it could have come from his mouth. It wasn’t the tenderness with which he could speak to a lover, but the basic love that one had for their parent.
“I see. Hand me the phone, would you?” she asked, pointing at a cordless phone sitting on the table next to the chair he’d settled into.
Despite his best efforts, his mother had not been willing to adapt to modern cellphone technology. At least, he thought as he handed it over to her, he’d gotten her away from that damn rotary phone she’d been so fond of! That was a bit of technology she’d taken to right away. The instant phones became available there had been one in his house.
“Who are you calling?” he asked, puzzled that she would interrupt his visit with a phone call.
“Kieran. I’m going to tell him to come over and sign the papers.”
“Mother!” he exclaimed, gently snatching the phone away from her. “Stop it. It’s been two weeks. I’ve had over two centuries. You can’t expect me to just randomly find someone.”
Like a certain random girl at the clothing store…
“Kieran would have by now,” his mother said, half teasing.
“Kieran already has a mate, mother. That’s not the issue though. You know as well as I do that Kieran does
not take after Uncle Morgan. He would make a mockery of the family name.”
His mother just smiled, but she did set the phone down. For now. Her brother Morgan, next in line if something happened to Irene and Zander, was a well-respected pillar of the Cadian community. His son Kieran, however…was quite the opposite.
Simply put, Kieran was an asshole.
Irene wasn’t so simply swayed though.
“Find love, Zander,” she said with a smile. “You don’t have to go searching for it, but stop trying to avoid it, or act like it doesn’t exist. If you leave yourself open to the possibility of it, then it will find you. I promise.”
She looked like she was going to say more, but a coughing fit overcame her, and for the first time, Zander saw how truly close to the end she was. Her entire body shook, and much of the strength remaining in her faded with the coughs, leaving her slumped over in the chair. Her eyes looked up at him wearily as he hovered over her, holding the mug of warm tea that she kept at her side up to her mouth so she could sip at it.
“Thank you,” she said weakly.
“You’re welcome mother,” he said with a sad smile.
She doesn’t have months. Weeks, if not days. I can’t let her go like this. She may have been a little more distant than some parents, but she was always there if I needed her.
***
As Zander closed the door after putting her to bed and moved to the front of the house, he made a vow to himself.
His mother wasn’t going to pass from this world without seeing him with a mate. He wanted her to pass happy, no matter what was actually going on. The family name and power and fortune be damned. It was no longer about that, but it was instead about Irene Pierce, and the fact that she deserved to die happy, knowing her son was happy.
If he had to hurt one human’s feelings to achieve that, it was a sacrifice he was willing to make.
Chapter Six
Riss
Two days passed before she saw him again.
It was more than she’d expected after the way he took off in the middle of the night, but despite that and the lack of communication since, Riss couldn’t hide the elation when a knock came at her door.
It was Saturday, and she was off work, a rarity. Sunday was her normal day off, but for whatever reason, she hadn’t been scheduled to work at all this weekend. With the money she’d earned from her commissions on Zander’s suits, Riss didn’t have to worry about the lost hours either. It was a singularly refreshing feeling, one that she’d had little experience with before.
Putting the scrub pad and spray down, she moved to the sink and quickly washed her hands as the person knocked at the door once more.
“Coming!” she called, unsure if they could hear her.
They. No, you know who it is. You don’t get other visitors. It has to be him. Hopefully he has an explanation for what the hell the other night was all about.
She paused just short of the door, tugging on her top and fixing her jeans, hoping that she looked at least somewhat presentable. Her hair was thrown up in a messy bun and she was lacking makeup entirely, but such were the perks of a day off. Riss wasn’t showing off for anyone today, and if Zander didn’t like it, too bad.
Opening the door, the height of the person made it immediately clear who it was.
“Zander,” she said, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed as she eyed him
The jeans and black T-shirt were an easy look, and one that he, like everything else it seemed, managed to pull off to perfection. The cuffs on the arms were pulled tight around his biceps, which seemed to be extra big today. In fact, as she looked at him, all of his muscles seemed to be practically quivering.
“Is everything okay?” she asked, eyeing him suspiciously.
“Just fine, why?” he asked, standing up straight and looking behind him.
“You just look…extra intimidating today,” she said, not sure how else to phrase it.
“I just flew a long way to get here,” he said. “So perhaps that has something to do with it.”
“Right,” she said, nodding slowly. “You can fly. You know, despite everything, I’d actually forgotten about that little fact. I knew you were a dragon, but I’ve not seen you be one.”
The big shifter reached up and brushed his hair back out of the way. “Well, rest assured, I most definitely am one of those flying dragon sorts,” he said with a smile.
“So much so that you had to fly away from me,” she replied without matching humor.
Zander winced in apology. “Sorry,” he said. “I panicked, if you must know.”
The admission rocked Riss back on her heels. “You are part human under all that after all,” she said in surprise.
“I hadn’t meant to kiss you,” he continued, ignoring her quip. “So when I did, I realized that you might think I was about to try something more, which I wasn’t going to do without your permission. And then my brain went to shit and so I took off,” he said sheepishly. “Not my finest hour.”
Riss thought for several moments.
“No,” she said at last, “I suppose it wasn’t.”
Then she turned and went back inside.
Zander followed her, closing the door she’d left open on purpose behind him.
“It smells weird in here.”
“You better be referring to the fact that I’ve been using cleaners all day, and not something about the way I smell,” she said pointedly.
“No, it’s the cleaners,” he agreed. “It’s very strong. You should have the windows open, get some fresh air in here.”
“The windows are open.”
“Well that’s not acceptable then,” he proclaimed. “You need to go outside and allow your system to breathe properly.”
“I was just outside, when I decided to let you in after not seeing or hearing from you for forty-eight hours.”
“I’m going to be paying for that for a while, aren’t I?” he said with an exaggerated sigh.
“There’s a fair chance of it, yes.”
“Well then, let us be on our way, so that I can begin to serve in purgatory,” he joked, sending a wink her way that, despite her lingering frustration at his absence, still managed to stir up the blood in her system.
I really dislike how easy it is for him to do that. It’s like I trust him on some level I’m not even capable of understanding! It makes no sense, dammit.
To a human, at least. Perhaps to a shifter this was all the norm. Her human brain was trying desperately to understand how someone she had just met could so easily ingrain himself into her life, in a way that he managed to actually leave a void, despite only having seen him outside of work once.
“Where are we going?” Riss heard herself ask, and wanted to slap herself for caving so easily. She was supposed to be pissed at him for the kiss and run, not eagerly agreeing to go wherever he wanted after two days of radio silence.
And yet his eyes smiled at her with a happiness that made her heart do a double beat. Then she noticed something different about him as her eyes continued to scour his heat-inducing body.
“You haven’t shaved,” she said before she could stop herself.
“No, I thought I’d try out the short stubble look,” he said, raising a hand to stroke the short growth on his face. “What do you think?”
“Hmm,” she replied. Then again her body responded, and she lifted her fingers to his cheek, stroking the surprisingly soft fuzz with her own hand.
Zander’s hand caught hers and held it there as she made to remove it, and their eyes locked once more, metallic-brown trying to pierce gray fog.
“I like when you touch me,” he rumbled, without breaking eye contact.
Riss continued to stare at him for another moment, and then let a sly smile tug her cheeks upward, knowing how it dimpled her face. “Shouldn’t have cut and run the other night then,” she teased with a wink, pulling her hand back.
Anger flashed through those eyes momentarily, but it wasn
’t directed outward, she realized after a split second. It was directed internally, self-loathing at his own actions. Not because he had perhaps missed out on having sex, but because he’d cut and run on her without explanation, and her barbs, although disguised as jokes, were Riss’s way of dealing with the hurt of that.
“I will make that up to you. Hopefully today will be a start.”
She frowned. “I sense a ‘but’ coming here.”
He grinned. “But I still can’t tell you where we’re going. I will promise you that it will be worth the not knowing.”
Riss didn’t look convinced. “Are you sure?”
He nodded. “I sure hope so. I’m trying,” he said.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she said with a shake of her head. “Wait here, I need to get ready.”
***
He was still there when she exited the shower ten minutes later, and began going through her wardrobe.
“What do I need to wear?” she called down the hallway to where he was waiting in the front hall. “Is a dress good?”
There was what sounded suspiciously like a cough designed to cover up laughter, and then, “No, no you will want pants today. Comfortable ones. Long-sleeved shirt would probably be a good choice too.”
Riss frowned at the voice. She didn’t think the combo would look all that great on her, but if that was what he recommended, she would go with it. “Is it going to be warm or cold?” she asked.
“Probably not cold, but not super hot either,” came the cryptic reply.
“You aren’t being much help,” she retorted.
“I know.”
Grrr. I hate when he does that. He knows I want more information, and he’s purposefully rubbing it in that he knows and I don’t. If he weren’t so damn attractive, and otherwise charming, and polite, and, and... Dammit. I’m falling for this guy.
The realization wasn’t the bombshell it might have been. Riss suspected parts of her had already known, or at least though that her feelings were stronger than she was allowing herself to feel. He irritated her, of that there was no doubt. But that didn’t seem to matter just then.