Dragon Fate

by Juniper Hart

  Janus barked at her, as if to warn her from going in, whining slightly.

  “What’s the matter?” she asked. “I can’t go in there?”

  To her surprise, he simply turned and bounded away, leaving her alone again to study the garage.

  From inside, Ara could hear music playing softly, but she couldn’t make out the genre, only the faint beat as she opened the side door.

  The structure was a disarray of technical equipment, set up haphazardly on cheap plastic tables. Computer screens, circuit boards, and keyboards were strewn about without any rhyme or reason. Wires and capacitors sat in crates, a jumble of disorganization. But none of that held her attention very long.

  Titus had his head bowed over something, a soldering iron in his hand as goggles blocked his grey eyes. He hadn’t heard her come in, and he seemed lost in concentration as he continued to work, his fingers skillful.

  I wonder what that brilliant mind is working on now, Ara thought to herself. She dared not distract him, unsure if she should even be in the room, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from him. What is it about him? What is he doing to me?

  As if Titus heard her silent question, he raised his head and stared at her, blinking once as if he thought she might be an apparition.

  “Bella,” he gasped, putting down the tool and rising. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

  Why does he keep calling me Bella? she wondered. It had been years since anyone had called her that, a nickname reserved for her childhood and only out of the mouth of her favorite uncle before he died. But when Titus said it, her heart began to pound, the adrenaline pumping through her as her mind struggled to recall… something.

  “Bella?”

  “I’m fine,” Ara responded quickly as Titus slipped the goggles from his face. “Sorry I interrupted you.”

  He shook his head, his smoky eyes sparkling. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said, taking a step toward her. “I get so caught up in what I’m doing, I lose track of time sometimes. It’s good to have a reminder that I am surrounded by beauty.”

  The sincerity of his words warmed Ara, although in the back of her mind, she wondered why she was not stepping back and out of his nearing reach. Quite the contrary: her body was responding to his approach with her own movements.

  Before she knew what happening, Titus’ face was inches from hers, and she realized he was going to kiss her.

  Yet there was no warning in her head to avoid it, not a single chime of alarm. Instead, Ara found herself tilting her head back to eagerly accept his mouth.

  “Do you remember?” Titus breathed. “Do you remember who you are?”

  Ara bit her lower lip. Lie to him, a small voice whispered, and she nodded slowly, knowing that was what he wanted to hear.

  Relief exploded over his face, and his muscular arms embraced her tightly, sweeping her into a tight hug. His eyes gazed into hers, and Ara felt herself quivering in anticipation.

  “Bella, I had given up on ever finding you,” he murmured softly. “I’ll never let you go again.”

  Ara dismissed the twinge of guilt firing at her mind, knowing that she was not the woman he was looking for, but she was unable to resist the meeting of their mouths.

  It doesn’t matter who he thinks you are, she told herself sternly. There is something between us—oh…

  His lips parted, a burst of heat transferring from him to her, and Ara sighed, her slender frame relaxing into him as his hold on her tightened.

  “Oh, Bella,” Titus moaned, his mouth traveling along the side of her jawline, pausing to bury his nose in the depth of her curls. “You smell just as I remember.”

  Shivers flooded Ara as her arms reached up to encircle his neck, drawing him close, her fingers shaking as she slipped them into his blond waves, lacing them against the softness of his tresses. His palms spread against her back, inching toward her small but firm buttocks, and when he cupped her cheeks, the heat between her legs came forth with a shocking force.

  Titus’ mouth continued along the line of her neck, Ara dipping her head back to allow him to taste the prickled flesh as his tongue lashed out. Even if she had wanted to fight it, she would have been powerless, paralyzed by the overwhelming waves of desire sweeping through her body.

  She anticipated it seconds before he grasped her in his powerful hands, her legs elevated to wrap against his broad waist as he moved them toward the small, worn loveseat nearby. Gently, he placed her onto the sofa in a sitting position, his mouth still locked against the skin of her throat, suctioning, prodding with his tongue.

  Ara reached forward to pull his t-shirt from his wide back, and Titus sat back just long enough to allow it. Their gazes met again, the energy coursing between them a palpable force that was making Ara dizzy with pleasure.

  She tossed his shirt aside and reached to pull off her own. As the material slipped over her head, his face was back to hers, their lips locking. His hands pulled her pants away effortlessly, his mouth never losing contact with hers, their eyes widening in unison as his palms slid across her bare nipples.

  Oh, my God…

  Titus’ fingers closed around the erect skin, his thumb rolling against the rigidness as bolts of pleasure shot through Ara’s gut.

  When his head finally dropped to taste her yearning breasts, she moaned quietly, yanking his head toward her. Her legs gripped his waist, wanting to feel the obvious bulge in his pants, but he kneeled on the floor, his mouth moving along the flatness of her belly, toward her center.

  When his fingers hooked into her panties, his hands pushing her thighs apart, Ara was ready for his prodding tongue, and she mewled as he latched onto her throbbing nub.

  If I don’t know him, why does it feel like we’ve done this before? she asked herself. He knows every part of me better than I do.

  Titus’ teasing tongue became more insistent, his palms cupping at her rear once more to draw her fully against his face. Ara bucked up against him, knowing that his masterful movements would bring her to climax in no time.

  “Oh,” she whispered. “Oh…” She felt as if she had lost her ability to speak, her hips rocking against him in rhythm to his perfect strokes, and she tensed, her fingers squeezing against his head. “I’m—Oh Titus—!” she cried, her words escaping in tiny gasps as a flow of her pleasure streamed from her core and over his enthusiastic lips.

  Ara’s head was light, as if she was somewhere else, watching Titus from a distance, but when he raised his head, his fingertips trailing over her excited middle, she could sense that he was not finished with her.

  Her rosebud mouth parted as he pulled himself up, his shirtless, barrel chest gleaming with sweat. Ara knew she needed him inside her.

  “Take me,” she begged him. “Please.”

  He stared at her for a long moment, his eyes blazing with desire.

  “I couldn’t stop myself if I tried,” he rasped, falling onto her.

  8

  She’s not Isabella, something in his head warned him. She can’t be.

  But Titus did not want to hear it, his breath escaping in short, frenzied gasps as he pressed himself against Arabella’s lithe, ready frame. He nuzzled his face into the small of her neck, sighing deeply as his pulsating member slid against the drenched cleft between her thighs.

  Beneath him, Arabella jerked upward, shifting her hips to urge him inside. She was quivering, her fingernails digging into his flesh with anticipation, but Titus had not finished the slow tease he had begun, his shaft slipping over her deliberately, despite the fact that it was driving him nearly to the edge of insanity. Never had he wanted someone as badly since losing Isabella, but he wanted her to want it just as much as he did before he filled her with his throbbing unit.

  Arabella’s legs locked around him, her calves surprisingly strong as she willed him downward.

  “Please,” she begged again. “Please take me.”

  Titus grunted, knowing he was losing control of his own resolve, and with one massi
ve thrust, he entered her.

  Arabella screamed out, apparently not accounting for the size of him, and the cry almost caused him to erupt inside her. He willed himself to wait, his pushes slowing before he lost complete control, even though she was making it nearly impossible to hold back.

  Reducing his lust was not an option, and his jaw locked as he felt his body tense with the impending orgasm. The need to fill her with his seed was unbearable, centuries of wanting to be with this woman overtaking any need to be a considerate lover.

  Grunting with primal urgency, Titus allowed himself to spill himself into Arabella just as her legs seized against him, her head falling back. As he released into her, he felt her core tighten around his erection. They were a combination of sweat and nectar, choking for air as they tried to compose themselves.

  “Oh, my god,” Arabella choked, her breaths escaping in rapid-fire gasps. Instantly, Titus sat up, worried he was crushing her.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, his voice etched in concern.

  She stared at him with dazed eyes and nodded slowly. “I—yes,” she mumbled, more red staining her already flushed cheeks. “I’m fine.”

  Titus nodded and lowered his head, a sweeping sense of shame coursing through him as he withdrew from her core. What did you do? You were supposed to bring her here to protect her, not prey on her like some creep. But no matter how much he tried to chide himself, he could not bring himself to regret what they had just done.

  Logically, he knew that she could not be his Isabella. He knew that woman had died, likely at his hand, hundreds of years ago. That, however, did not explain the uncanny resemblance between her and the woman lying naked at his side. Even Anders had seen it.

  “Are you all right?” Arabella asked him.

  Titus nodded and offered her a quick smile. “I don’t know what came over me,” he confessed, even though he was lying through his teeth.

  “I do,” she replied, and he was taken aback by the response.

  “Yeah?”

  “I remind you of someone you knew once.”

  Titus’ spine stiffened at the almost nonchalant explanation. “Something like that,” he mumbled, reaching for his pants.

  “Her name was Bella,” Arabella continued. “That’s why you call me Bella, too.”

  Titus swallowed, unsure if he wanted to discuss the situation with her. What am I going to say to her? he thought. ‘Well, dear, I’m seven hundred and fifty years old, and I once sent the only woman I have ever loved to her death by warning her about a curse we were about to endure at the hands of a wretched witch who kept us immortal out of spite’?

  Titus had a feeling the story would not sit well with the girl before him. Even though she had nodded when he had asked her if she could remember who she was, she had clearly only told him what he had wanted to hear.

  Still, Titus couldn’t shake the feeling that this was Isabella, despite all the evidence against it. It was not just the resemblance between them—Arabella possessed Isabella’s timid bravery as well. Where had she come from?

  “Who was she?” Arabella asked. “Was she your wife?”

  The question stung Titus deeper than he wanted to admit.

  “No,” he answered with more flatness than he intended. “She wasn’t my wife.” Father ensured that we would never marry, he recalled. She wasn’t a princess. Her family did not have the clout to strengthen ours. She was only a duchess. Our affair was the worst kept secret in Misty Woods, but at least we were together.

  It seemed so trivial now, that King Rui would not have permitted the union between him and Isabella, but things had not been the same then. Not that his father had changed much with the ages. Titus grimaced as he always did when he thought about the fallen king.

  His guest seemed to sense his mood immediately.

  “I’m bringing up bad memories,” Arabella said. “I’m sorry.” She began to collect her garments, embarrassment clouding her face, but Titus grabbed her arm.

  “You’re doing nothing wrong,” he assured her, and she glanced at him nervously. She gulped visibly, and Titus could see she was building up the nerve to ask him another question.

  I don’t have answers for her, he thought, his jaw locking. I can’t explain anything to her because I don’t understand anything myself. Titus decided to stop her before she could ask her question.

  “Did Marta get you something to eat?” Arabella clamped her mouth closed and nodded, her iridescent eyes clouding slightly.

  “She did, thank you,” she replied. “I should… I should get out of your way…” She stared imploringly at him, and Titus shifted his eyes away reluctantly.

  I can’t avoid talking to her forever, he thought, but he also knew he was ill-equipped to deal with her at that moment.

  Moreover, he still had work to do. Whatever had happened at headquarters had not been resolved, and it weighed on him with everything else on his mind. Did he still have a hacker to deal with? Was it a one-time threat, or were they under attack? As always, there were more questions than answers.

  “I’ll meet you for dinner,” Titus promised. “I can take you on a proper tour of this monstrosity if you want.”

  To his relief, Arabella’s pale face brightened.

  “I’d like that,” she said, exhaling as if she had been holding her breath. “Thank you.”

  “Arabella…”

  She gazed at him. “Yes?”

  “You don’t have to be so grateful. Having you here is…” Titus trailed off before he could say the word “selfish,” even though he knew that was exactly why he had conspired with Anders to bring her to the compound. “It’s good to have you here,” he finished lamely. “You don’t need to thank me for that.”

  Arabella nodded, but he could see that she didn’t understand. She turned to leave, pausing to glance over her shoulder from the doorway.

  “You can call me Bella if you want,” she told him, her voice so low, he barely heard her words. “It’s been a long time since anyone called me that.”

  Titus’ heart began to pound.

  “All right, Bella,” he replied gruffly. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

  She disappeared into the bright sunlight, closing the door in her wake.

  This is wrong, he thought. I shouldn’t have brought her here.

  But Titus knew he would have done the same thing under any circumstance.

  Two days had passed, and Titus had spent his days in his garage, while Bella kept herself busy with all the amenities his estate offered. He had dinner with her every night, and while she tried to get more information out of him, he kept the conversation light. He was not sure what to make of Bella, and although in his heart he wanted to be near her every second, he also knew it was better to keep his distance for the time being.

  His phone rang, and Titus answered, not fully taking his attention off the task he had been working on for hours.

  “It’s happening again.”

  Titus froze, his eyes trained on the cell on the table as Trina’s voice rang through the speakerphone. “Please tell me it’s not what I think you’re saying.”

  “Are you surprised?” she snapped. “You’ve been AWOL all week! It’s not like you’ve done anything to prevent it.”

  Titus bit back a scathing reply. “Is Kamil with you?”

  “He just left for the first time in days. He’s been here non-stop, which is more than I can say about you,” Trina said. “I’m not calling him back in here unless it’s a hundred percent necessary.”

  “Suddenly you’re calling all the shots?”

  “Well, somebody needs to step up. May as well be me, because at least I’m here!”

  “Trina, watch yourself!” Titus roared. “Don’t forget who you’re talking to!”

  There was a slight pause, and Titus could tell Trina was miffed by his tone, but she wisely saved herself from making any other remarks. He sighed heavily.

  “Has any information been taken? Any viruses been pl
anted?”

  “So far, it’s exactly the same as last time,” Trina answered. “He’s already out; no trace of a virus. Same signature: the three dollar signs in the encryption. Means nothing to anyone.”

  “It must mean something to someone!”

  “Well, I haven’t found any meaning behind it.”

  “Seriously?” Titus yelled. “What the hell do I pay you people for if not to improve security? We’re the biggest tech company in the world, and we’re being toyed with by some sixteen-year-old most likely!” He knew he had no right to be yelling at Trina, but he had no better option.

  “Maybe you should come in,” his assistant volunteered dully. “And see if you can do anything about this.”

  Titus thought about Bella waiting for him in the main house.

  She’s going to have to wait, he thought miserably, knowing that whatever was happening in his company was going to have to take precedence over a centuries-old passion. My Isabella would understand. She always did.

  The thought did not fill him with warmth. He had done so much wrong with Isabella, made so many mistakes. Now that he had a second chance, was he willing to risk losing her again?

  You’re not losing her, he reminded himself. She’s not going anywhere. She can’t.

  “Tito, are you still there?”

  “I’m here. I’ll be there in a couple hours.”

  Trina released a deep sigh, and Titus knew she was expecting him to give a shorter time of arrival, but he couldn’t leave without seeing Bella for a short while.

  “Titus, what is going on with you?” Trina demanded. “Don’t you care that your company is in danger? If the board finds out about this—”

  “Are you going to tell them?”

  “Of course not!” she snapped hotly. “But that doesn’t mean word won’t get out! You’re under hot scrutiny after the crazy shit you pulled taking in that criminal. The last thing you need is—”

  “Trina, your job is not public relations,” Titus interjected, sick of their conversation. “I’ll be there soon.”