by Aidy Award
There was the lightest touch of magic wrapped around the root, from who or where, Azy didn’t know, and didn’t care. Every once in a while, a drop of dirty, mineral-filled water would pool on the tiny hairs of the plant’s root and pooled into the leaf’s little cup. It was the only water she’d had access to in weeks.
When she first found the drops, she’d wet her lips and mouth. She was thirsty as… well, hell.
It shouldn’t have been enough, but that same magic was in those drops and they sustained her. She lifted her finger to the tip of the leaf and let the droplet fall onto her finger.
The tiniest of reflections glimmered in the little water drop, like the golden mirrors of her mother’s people. Azy closed her eyes and knew she was falling asleep but couldn’t talk herself into consciousness.
The drop of water in her hand shimmered and grew until she held a hand mirror like the one her mother had intended to leave for her. She’d had this dream before. Many times growing up, but now, it came every time she fell asleep.
In the mirror she didn’t see her own reflection, but that of a man, a warrior. His hair was a golden blond and his skin was the polar opposite of hers, light to her dark.
She longed to see the contrast of his hands on her body. He was her mate, her soul mate, if the dragons and Fallyn were to be believed. But, she’d never seen him in dragon form.
Azy was so damn tired she almost wanted to call out to him, ask him to come and rescue her, take care of her.
Even if he was real, she wouldn’t do that. She would take care of this herself. She didn’t need a protector, a guardian.
Her father had tried to be that for a lot of people. It was what got him killed. If Azy hadn’t asked for help that day, he would still be alive.
So, no. She would not ask for anything from this man, whoever he was, except for this connection.
“I’m coming for you, little mermaid,” a voice like honey and charm whispered into her mind.
Azy almost dropped the dream mirror. The reflection had never spoken to her before. Could he hear her too? If he could she had to warn him off.
“Don’t do that. You’ll only get hurt. I’ll be fine on my own.”
“I don’t accept that. I will find you, and when I do I will claim you for my own.”
Oh for jesus sake.
“Don’t be a…douchecanoe.” She’d never said that word in her life, but it felt like divine intervention had given it to her. Fit perfectly.
The reflection chuckled. “I am coming for you. But, I haven’t yet gotten what I need to get into the hellhole where you’re trapped. Soon though.”
“I said don’t come down here.”
“That isn’t an option.”
For the first time since her father had died, Azy felt like crying. Oh, god damn it she was crying. She turned her head away so he wouldn’t see.
She didn’t cry. She wasn’t weak like that.
“Shit. My love. Don’t cry. What can I do to help you? It’s killing me to be here while you’re there.”
“I’m not crying. I’m trying not to kill you.” She didn’t need him to be a dickhead now. This was her respite, her time to recharge.
“You can kill me all you want later. For now, kiss me.”
Azy looked back and the mirror was no longer in her hands. The big, muscled chest of a very naked, very sexy man was.
He was here.
He wasn’t here.
She could feel his touch. But, it wasn’t real.
“Azynsa, you’re fucking beautiful.” His fingers caressed her arm, working its way up, skimming so lightly across her skin that it was more like a breeze.
“Uh.” She wanted to tell him to stop, but it felt so damn good. Her brain skittered to a total stop and reverse when his fingers skated across her bare breasts.
“When I find you, I’m going to spend a full complete year worshipping your left nipple. Then the next year I’ll spend on the right one.” He lowered his head and took said left nipple into his mouth.
Azy arched her back, pushing into him. She knew this wasn’t real, but she didn’t care. She wrapped her hands into his hair and held him to her breast.
He licked and nipped and sent zings of pleasure through her body. So much so, that she didn’t even notice his hand creeping between her legs until it brushed across her curls.
He raised his head and stared into her eyes, his hand hovering over her pussy, but not touching. “Let me take care of you Azynsa. Say you want me to.”
Well, that blew the mood. It wasn’t his fault that his choice of words in asking for her consent was the opposite of what she wanted. Consent was sexy as hell, yes. To be taken care of, no.
“No.”
He blinked and then frowned but pulled his hand away. “No?”
“I’ll take care of myself, thanks.”
He grinned and took her words in the dirtiest of possible ways.
And then he was gone.
Azy jerked awake. The walls of her little cave were trembling and she heard the screech of demon dragons getting close.
She had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have someone at her side at times like this.
She huddled into a ball and pushed herself as far into the little space as she could and waited. Either they would find her and kill her, like Fallyn said, or they wouldn’t.
Had Fallyn told them where she was? No. She wouldn’t, she’d been genuinely concerned that they were coming for Azy.
So how had they found her hiding spot now?
Chapter Three
Chp 3 – Jetts and Planes
Anzysa.
He’d seen her, spoken to her, tasted her.
What a beautiful, stubborn ass woman was his mate, and he was a… douchecanoe.
She was his. Of that he was totally sure. The scent of her, the way she arched into his touch. They were going to be mindblowing in bed.
He’d woken up with a hard-on that regardless of how many times he’d tried to take care of it in the shower this morning, was still pressing against his zipper, straining to get out.
He refused to believe his cock was reacting to Portia’s presence, but he wasn’t the only walking hard-on at Seven Pines today. Portia’s allure must be back online after a night of safety and food. She had affected so many of his warriors now that he’d gotten Zon to organize a warrior tournament. Gris hated the idea, but he wasn’t as swayed by the allure as the rest of them. Winner got the chance to woo and feed the lovely Portia.
If and when she delivered Jett.
So far, she wasn’t having any luck.
Cage sat in the comfy chair next the sun lamp where he liked to hang out and read mystery novels. It was the only light on in the office and it still made Portia squint.
She paced back and forth behind his desk, yelling at the phone. Cajoling and pleading hadn’t done a thing so far to convince Jett to even come to Seven Pines, much less help Cage get to hell.
Little fucker.
Portia even turned her allure on Jett to no avail. Although, that last bit had several dragon warriors who were supposed to be guards knocking down the door. Gris was practically beating them all back with a stick.
Even her tears didn’t convince that bastard to come. What, like he had more important things to do, like chasing terrified women through the woods, or something?
She had him on speakerphone now and the little shit was being exactly that. A shit.
What he didn’t know was that Cage was no luddite. He used his money to invest in all kinds of tech companies. Including the kind that created and used clandestine ops and all the fun gadgets that went with it. He was tracing this call and a team of his warriors were already en route to capture the bastard. SEAL Team Six had nothing on his guys.
Then again the SEALs didn’t have to fight demon dragons on a daily basis, and couldn’t use the power of sunshine and wind, and they didn’t have wings, or tails or sharp spiky teeth.
; His guys were ready to nab him. Portia keeping Jett on the line now was gravy.
“Any favors I owed you were repayed when I convinced Geshtianna not to send her asshole brother after you. You’re persona non-gratis in the demon community, I’m the only reason you’re not dead.”
Portia’s face dropped even further at those words. Her body language went from irritated to defeated, despondent.
Nice boyfriend she had there.
Cage had more than enough reasons to push Portia to the edge, but he wasn’t a total dick. Enough was enough. He hadn’t yet said a word, and had instructed her not to mention he was listening.
If Jett had been willing to help because Portia asked, Cage would have been fine with that, but really all he’d needed from her was the connection.
His tablet pinged with a message, perfect timing. He stood and crossed over to her, giving her a little chuck on the chin and a wink. “I’ll take it from here, pumpkin.”
She scowled at the pet name, and stuck out her tongue at him. But, there was relief in her eyes too. Whoever’s mate she was had their work cut out for them. Poor lucky bastard.
He tapped a few keys on his tablet, got the response he was looking for and waited a few moments for the sounds of his team taking Jett down.
Portia glanced at him, a flash of concern in her eyes, when they heard a scuffle, the distinctive sound of dragon fire, and then the line went dead.
A new call came through on his cell phone. He answered on speaker, so she could hear that her precious ex wasn’t harmed.
“We have him, sir. ETA one hour,” the team leader said.
“Good work. Try not to kill him in the next sixty-minutes.”
“Will do.”
Cage hung up just before Portia poked him in the chest.
“What did you need me for if you already knew where he was? He can’t be that far away if they’re bringing him back in within an hour.”
He pushed her hand away. “He’s a slippery little bastard. You were the perfect distraction.”
If looks could kill, Portia would be on trial for murdering a Wyvern. “I’m god damn tired of being used.”
“Then think of it as payback.”
She bit back her retort. Unusual for her. “Are you going to kill him?”
Concern? Was she thinking about how she could help Jett escape? The asshole had done quite a number on her. She seemed both angry and loyal to him at the same time. “Someday. But, first I need him to answer a few questions.”
“Can I be there?”
Would her allure work on Jett? That could be useful. “If you want to help me question him.”
“No. I mean when you kill him.”
She was bloodthirsty. At least that meant she wasn’t going to try to help him escape.
It was hard not to feel protective of Portia. Yes, she’d wronged him, but he fully understood she’d done it out of what she thought was love.
Not like he knew anything about that emotion. But, he did understand the deep-seated need for connection. He’d sought it with her. Only to be used, but still. He played a part in her story and she in his.
“I need him to get me into hell and back first.”
Portia raised an eyebrow. “I can’t believe you’re going to trust him.”
“I’m not. But, I don’t have another choice. He’ll get me down to Azynsa or every gold dragon from here to eternity will hunt him down.”
“It’s your ass.”
There were a lot more asses on the line that just his. “You’ve fulfilled your debt to me. You can leave if you want.”
“What? You said I could stay if I got Jett for you.”
“You can. My warriors are prepared to protect and provide for you as long as you need. They’re out on the training field battling for your favor as we speak.”
Portia glanced toward the covered window and frowned. “Don’t they all hate me for what I did to you?”
“Some do. But, it’s not in the gold dragon nature to hold a grudge. Besides, I believe the power of your allure is back. I still don’t feel it, but Gris and Zon have been beating the others back all morning. Which is why I asked them to organize the tournament.”
Portia pulled the letter opener from the back of her pants and set the tip, which had been sharpened, directly over his heart. “So, you’re just giving me to the winner?”
The door to the office swung open and Gris stared long and hard at Portia’s defensive stance before saying anything. The man had a sixth sense when it came to this woman. “Sir?”
“Good timing.” Cage used the distraction to disarm Portia. “The team has the rogue and are on their way back in. Please escort our guest to wherever she chooses to go and inform the warriors the tournament is off. She doesn’t not wish to…utilize their services.”
Gris nodded, but not at Cage. Was that relief on his face? Couldn’t blame him. Baby-sitting wasn’t exactly in his job description.
Portia looked between the two of them. “I didn’t say that. They can fight for me or whatever.”
Gris growled quiet and low. “It’s your choice, succubus.”
Maybe Gris wasn’t the right dragon to watch over Portia in Cage’s absence. He had some serious hate going on for her. Zon might be better for this particular chore.
One more thing to add to his to do list for the next few hours as he prepared to go to Africa. If he was going to trust Gris to take over the Wyr, it was now or never.
“I’ve got a lot to do before I leave tonight. You two work it out. I’ve got my guide and one way or another, will be in hell by tonight.”
Gris glared at Portia to hide his concern, unsuccessfully, but he tried. “Yes, sir.”
The two left biting at each other with words and growls and glares. They were either going to kill each other or end up in bed together.
Within the hour his team had Jett wrestled into the red dragon’s guest suite, and chained to the wall. Yes, the red dragons were kinky bastards. That particular attribute was about to come in handy.
Cage cleared the room when he entered, of course, under protest from the team. But, Jett wasn’t going anywhere. Those chains had been forged by the First Dragon himself. No one man, or dragon, could escape them.
He propped himself against the edge of the bed, crossing his legs as if this was a conversation about the weather, not his mate and every gold mate’s life out there.
“What will it take, rogue?”
Jett didn’t struggle against the chains. He did watch and wait. “I wondered when you’d quit hiding behind Portia’s skirts, as nice as the view of her plump ass is, it’s a wonder you came out at all.”
Maybe he should have brought Portia in to torture this asshole a bit.
“Yes, something we can agree on. You used her, she used me, now I get to use you.”
A puff of smoke drifted up from Jett’s nose. “What is you actually want, gold?”
“For you to name your price. Everyone has one.”
“You can’t afford what I want.”
“Try me.”
Jett was silent, but not because he didn’t want anything. Cage could practically see the cogs turning in his mind.
It was well known that Cage was the wealthiest dragon in the world. When one’s family had been collecting fine things and building wealth like greedy bastards for centuries, one had some cash to spare on bribing people to do what they wanted.
He was prepared to give up his entire fortune if it meant he could rescue Anzysa and make it possible for the gold dragons to get their mates.
“There is something I want, but I’m not prepared to reveal the details to you.”
Then it wasn’t money. When he and Portia had been together, Jett had been after a soul shard. Well, Cage didn’t have one of those to give.
“What do you suggest then?”
“I want a future favor. To be named and delivered upon my request.”
Whatever it was this black dragon wanted from him woul
d hurt, or he’d simply say what it was now. It was a negotiating tactic Cage understood well. There wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it because he would do whatever Jett needed. “As long as it does no harm to my mate, or any dragon’s mate for that matter, you may have your favor. But, I will not fulfill it or let you go until you give me what I want.”
“You dragons have me now, but I will not ever give up my freedom. What do you want from me?”
That was all the in Cage needed.
“Not much, all I need is a guide.”
“Where – ah. You’re going to hell.”
In more ways than one. The rogue may be trouble, but he wasn’t stupid.
“You should have said. Anything that will give let me make Kur-Jara’s life hard, I’m down for. But, now you owe me a favor and I intend to cash it in, dragon.”
Fuck a lucky duck.
“I will honor my debt, but only upon Azynsa’s safe return to Seven Pines.”
With or without him. Cage would make arrangements with Gris to get Jett whatever he asked for in case he didn’t make it back himself.
“Out of the caldera. I’m not hiring on to be her nurse maid once she’s out. I’ve got other business to take care of.”
“Fine.” He wasn’t discussing semantics. “We will transport you to Africa, tonight.”
That gave him enough time to get Gris up to speed on all of the plans, including what to do in case he didn’t make it, and fly down to Western Africa. Not on his own wings, but he had a back-up.
“I don’t need your commandos to take me anywhere. I’ll honor my word. This arrangement benefits me as much as you. Find me tonight at Candy’s, not far from the Malabo airport.”
“Who’s Candy? Your new stripper girlfriend?”
“It’s an Irish pub.” Cage could practically here the fuck-off in Jett’s reply.
The fates, or the White Witch had known what they were doing, he had to trust in that. Because what else did he have now that his dragon was lost.
“Tonight then.” Cage didn’t wait for Jett to agree. He had a few short hours to make final preparations in case of his death and do everything he could think of to mentally and physically prepare for the upcoming battle.