by Lili Zander
The old man seems to age before my eyes. His pain is palpable. I turn away and dial my assistant. The phone connects before the first ring has finished. “Lord Valder?”
“Josiah, a Norm by the name of Pete Solomon has been murdered. I’m at his apartment now.” I reel off the address. “Can you make arrangements to have the body moved to a funeral home? There’ll need to be a funeral. Pick out a casket.”
“Yes, Lord Valder.” Josiah knows better than to ask pointless questions. “I’ll take care of everything, sir.” He hesitates. “Should we involve the Norm police?”
“No, the killer was a shifter. Tell Lukus Hyde to call me immediately.” I end the call. “My assistant will handle the details,” I tell Archer.
“Must be nice,” he says dryly. “You just wave your arms and things get done.” There’s no heat to his words.
I’ve done my research. In his heyday, Silas Archer was a sought-after shifter thief, one of the best in the game. The man should be wealthy.
But he isn’t. Silas Archer is kind to the core. His bank account is empty, not because he squandered his fortune, but because he gave generously to anyone in need. It’s the same generosity that made him adopt Aria.
“Money is just a tool.”
“A useful one.” He heaves a sigh, rubbing his palms down his face. “I should have planned better for the future,” he says. “Aria’s exhausted her savings on my treatment.” His expression is troubled. “I’m afraid she’s going to do something rash.”
Too late, I think to myself. But Aria’s attempt at stealing from us is not my secret to tell.
My phone vibrates, interrupting our conversation. “Valder,” I snap into the receiver.
“My Lord, you wished to speak with me?” Lukus Hyde’s tension comes through loud and clear over the phone.
“A Norm was murdered in your territory last night. Two wolves were responsible.” My voice turns threatening. “Lord Valentini contacted you about one of them last week, yet this wolf shifter still appears to be at large. Now, he’s killed someone. I would hate to think, Hyde,” I growl, “that you’ve allowed one of your own to go rogue even after you were made aware of a potential problem.”
“N-no, Lord Valder. As I told Lord Valentini’s assistant, the wolf in question isn’t one I recognize. I’ve been unable to track him.”
Fuck. “Your ineptitude has caused the loss of a life,” I snarl. “One I value.”
“My lord…”
I cut him off. I’m not interested in Hyde’s excuses. “I expect you to personally work with the Norm authorities to find the wolves responsible.”
“Yes, of course…”
“Keep me informed, Hyde,” I snap. “And don’t fuck this up.”
Silas looks at me with amusement. “I’ve never heard Lukus Hyde so shaken in all the years I’ve known him.”
I don’t care about Hyde. I’m just concerned about Aria. Is she back in the penthouse? Is Bastian with her, or did she manage to give him the slip?
Just then, my phone vibrates with a text from Mateo, and those three words lift the weight of the world from my shoulders.
Aria is safe.
12
Aria
Bastian holds open the door to a sleek, expensive-looking car, helping me in. I slide across the seat as he folds himself in beside me. The moment he shuts his door, the car pulls away from the curb.
Bastian lowers the partition between the back of the car and the front. “Drive around the block a couple times, Henry,” he instructs. “In case anyone is following us.”
I quiet the raging hormones with effort. “You think we might be followed?” I ask as he raises the partition once again, giving us privacy.
“Not really.” His mouth tightens to a grim line. “If Raedwulf had backup, they’d have stopped Tomas from taking the wolf prisoner. One way or another.”
In other words, they’d kill the shifter rather than let us question him.
Despite the situation, the blood magic refuses to be quieted. The intoxicating scent of Bastian fills the small enclosed space like the best kind of aphrodisiac. Bastian is injured. The guy’s bleeding all over the soft leather car seat, but my body doesn’t seem to care. My nipples are hard points of desire and my pussy throbs to the beat of my heart. I want him with a feverish desperation that I can’t put into words.
Bastian takes my hand in his. “Are you okay, mausezähnchen?”
Hell no, I’m not okay. We’re both still dressed, and I’m not rubbing all over that delicious muscle that he’s hiding under that tuxedo.
Lust blazes through me. My tongue flicks out, wetting my lips. His eyes flash, following the motion. A low, rumbling sound—somewhere between a purr and growl—emanates from his chest.
“I’m fine,” I reply, my eyes drawn to the still-bleeding cut on his cheek. I trace it with my fingertips. His blood glows softly, calling to me again, whispering to me. “Bastian…” My voice trails off, and I’m breathless with need.
I climb into his lap, straddling him. I thread my fingers through his thick hair and drag his lips down to mine. I’ve never been the aggressor in the bedroom, but with Bastian, I’m demanding. My need is so strong that I have zero shame in taking what I want. And I want Bastian’s lips on mine.
I run my tongue lightly over his lips, seeking to deepen the kiss. When he doesn’t respond, I nip his bottom lip in frustration, drawing another of those purring growls from him. Then his hand slides around my neck and his mouth covers mine hungrily.
Every nerve ending in my body sparks to life. His tongue strokes against mine, hot and demanding. I shift my hips so that my aching pussy is lined up perfectly with his hardness, and I grind down, my heart thumping erratically. With every kiss, the pull is stronger.
If the driver looks in the rear-view mirror, he’ll see the two of us making out like rabid teenagers, but I don’t care.
Bastian’s lips leave mine to nibble at my earlobe. His fingers free my hair from its knot, and he buries his hands in the strands, groaning as I recapture his lips, demanding more. “So impatient,” he whispers against my mouth.
Not going to apologize for it either.
His hand slips inside the neckline of my blouse. Easing the cups of my bra aside, he runs his thumb over my sensitive, swollen nipple. Another growl is torn from his lips, and my insides thrill.
I did this. I made Bastian lose control.
My fingers are fumbling with the buttons on his shirt when the car stops, and the driver speaks through the intercom. “Sir, we’ve arrived.”
Cock blocker.
I whimper in protest as Bastian slides me off his lap, instantly bereft at losing the contact. He traces a finger over my cheek causing me to shiver. “I’m not done with you, mausezähnchen. Let’s go upstairs and seek out that privacy you wanted.”
What a good idea. I’m totally on board. “That’s the best thing you’ve said all day.”
As soon as the elevator doors slide open, Casius is there, pulling me into a bear hug. Well, more like a dragon hug. I should feel uncomfortable finding myself pressed against a virtual stranger, but the moment his arms go around my shoulders, calm sweeps through me, relaxing muscles that I didn’t know were tense.
“I—we—were so worried about you.”
Guilt rushes through me, dampening my lust. I pull back and notice his haunted eyes, and then my gaze finds Mateo and Rhys lingering just behind him. My heart stutters in my chest when I don’t see Erik, and then Bastian’s words work their way into my guilt-riddled mind. Erik’s with Silas. Protecting him for me.
They’re so obviously worried about me that I feel like a complete, total jerk.
Woman-up, Aria. Start apologizing.
I swallow thickly. “I… I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have left, but I had to.” I stare at them, hoping they’ll realize why I did what I did. “I couldn’t stay if it meant Silas would be hurt. Especially not for something I did.”
Rhys steps forwa
rd and presses a kiss to the top of my head. “It’s okay, love.” His Welsh accent is warmly familiar. “I understand. I’d have done the same thing.” He eyes Bastian’s state, and his lips twitch. “Not training enough, Jaeger?” he mocks. “I really hope the wolves look worse than you.”
Bastian flips him the bird. “Fuck off, Griffith,” he says easily. His hand rests on my lower back as he guides me to one of the couches. Before I can seat myself, he pulls me down onto his lap.
“You’re injured,” I start to protest, and then the words die in my throat. The cut on his face has vanished. His arm is healed, and there’s no sign that Raedwulf bit him. If I look down at his ankle, I bet I’ll find the same thing.
Nothing but perfect bronzed skin.
“How?” I ask in awe. Shifters heal quickly, but the speed and lack of scarring are remarkable.
Bastian tilts his head toward Mateo. “The moment we stepped into the room, Mateo’s magic went to work.”
I turn to Mateo, who shrugs like it’s no big deal. “They were just scratches.” His smile turns wickedly amused. “Though I have to agree with Rhys. You’re slipping, buddy.”
Before Bastian can reply, Casius cuts in. “What happened?”
Bastian fills them in on Raedwulf’s attack. The more he talks, the more tension builds in the room. By the time he’s done, a thick, oppressive cloud of magical energy hangs in the air. Fire licks Mateo’s skin, and his eyes are yellow when they stare at me. It’s his dragon, fighting to get out.
He’s upset because I was in danger.
I brace myself for their judgment, but there’s none. Mateo blinks his eyes and takes a deep breath, and his dragon recedes. The feel of the magic changes. Instead of impending violence, it turns calm and soothing.
I release a breath I didn’t realize I was holding and melt into Bastian’s body, resting my head on his chest. Rhys leans forward. “They got away,” he says grimly. “That’s not good.”
“We’ll find them.”
I hope he’s right. Even though Silas is safe with Erik, I can’t kick the unsettled feeling in my gut. I know we haven’t seen the last of Raedwulf.
My shoulders sag as the adrenaline drains out of my body, leaving me bone-weary. The stress of the last week finally catches up with me. I can’t hold in my jaw-cracking yawn, and I slide off Bastian’s lap and sink further into the couch cushions.
He notices. “That’s enough talk for now,” Bastian says, interrupting whatever Casius was about to say. “Time for bed, mausezähnchen.”
He lifts me into his arms and tucks me against his chest. I’m about to open my mouth to protest that I can walk, and then I reconsider. If a sexy-as-sin dragon wants to carry me off to bed, who am I to argue?
Yesterday-Aria would have been pissed at being told to go to bed. Now-Aria is ready to be coddled.
He carries me to a bedroom. “This isn’t Rhys’ room…”
Bastian buries his nose in my hair and takes a deep breath. “It’s mine.” His mouth grazes my neck. “Unless you don’t want to?”
My exhaustion melts away, and desire roars back to the forefront. “I definitely want to.” His teeth nip my earlobe, and a familiar shiver of awareness runs through me. I met Bastian less than twenty-four hours ago, but there is a deep sense of connection between us. He doesn’t feel like a stranger.
He sets me on my feet. His eyes never leave mine as he undresses me. I don’t protest. The maid’s uniform hits the ground, and I stand in front of him, wearing nothing but my bra and panties. He inhales sharply, his eyes blazing with desire.
“My turn now.” I reach out to Bastian, putting my hands on his chest, letting his heat infuse my body. The muscles rippling under his tattered shirt quicken my pulse. Slowly, I unbutton it, and with each button, another inch of tanned skin is revealed.
When the last button slides free, I push the shirt off his shoulders, and it falls to the floor in a puddle.
Fuck. I now understand the meaning of the phrase ‘sculpted perfection.’ If he were on a calendar, I’d be jilling off to his abs every single night.
Suddenly impatient for more, my hands move to his belt. In an instant, I have his pants off, and then he stands in front of in his black boxer briefs, pure male perfection.
If I thought the magic that surrounded the safe had a strong pull… that is only a drop in the bucket to how I’m pulled toward Bastian.
You sound like a lovesick teenager, Aria.
I reach for the waistband of his boxers, but Bastian stays my hand with a chuckle. “You’re exhausted.”
“Seriously?” I stare at him. “You got me all hot and bothered. If you tell me to sleep now, I will scream.” What the hell? As Bea would put it, my lady garden needs tilling.
A flash of humor crosses his face. “Lie back, Aria,” he orders. He leads me to his massive bed, helping me into it before climbing in behind me. Spooning me against his chest, he runs his fingertips up and down my stomach, tracing little circles around my belly button.
Each pass of his fingers builds a fiery heat inside my veins. I arch my back, rubbing my panty-clad ass against his stiff cock. “We’re still wearing too many clothes.”
A smile plays at the corners of his mouth. His fingers trail lower, running right along the top of my panties before retreating back up my abdomen. His hand grazes my breast, and my nipple stiffens into a painfully hard nub. I squirm against him, hoping to speed things up. We can do slow-and-sensual later. Right now, I’m hot, and I’m wet, and I want him. I want his tongue and his fingers and his cock. I need him.
“Bastian, please…” My words trail off in a gasp as his fingers slide just below my pantyline.
“Tell me, mausezähnchen,” he growls in my ear. “What do you need?”
“Touch me.” I meant it to sound like a command, but even to my own ears, it sounds like a plea. I’m begging for him. For this.
In a flash, I’m rolled to my back, Bastian’s fingers undoing my bra clasp and pulling the straps down my shoulders. I help, cooperatively pulling it free and tossing it across the room, and his eyes fill with an amused heat.
He straddles me, hovering over my body. His lips crash down on mine, his tongue sweeping past my parted lips as he devours me. He grips my panties and tugs, and the thin fabric rips.
The sound of the rending material fills the quiet room. Cool air caresses my heated folds. I shiver in excitement as Bastian kisses his way down my neck to my breasts. He takes one tight bud in his mouth, circling it with his tongue as he sucks it lightly. I arch into him, moaning.
He licks his way to my other nipple, capturing it between his lips, giving it the same delicious treatment. My hips move restlessly. I want him in me. I need it; I crave it.
“Please,” I beg. “More.”
13
Rhys
Casius and Mateo disappear to Casius’ private study.
I wipe my hands down my face, feeling drained and in need of a long shower.
My bedroom smells of Aria. My pillows and sheets bear her scent, light, floral and unique. God, I want her. Badly.
But her words this morning make me pause. I’m not in the mood for company, she’d snapped at me. That accusation had stung. I don’t hold them against her—she’d been off-balance and afraid for Archer’s life—but they make me stay away.
If she wants me, she’ll have to come to me.
I step into the shower. Cold water pours down on me, but though I spend ten minutes trying to quench the raging heat running through my blood, I fail miserably.
The mating bond. Only a few mated dragons, those that found their partners before Zyrian’s curse, still remain alive. I’ve heard them describe the intense need that marks their bond. The way their soul seems to tug them toward their mate.
I dismissed it as a poetic exaggeration. Now, I know better.
With an impatient curse, I turn off the water and dry myself. Wrapping a towel around my waist, I head outside. Maybe a long flight in the dawn sky wi
ll help.
But the moment I step outside my bedroom, I am overwhelmed with the sweet scent of Aria’s need, and my resistance crumbles. I can’t resist her.
Almost on auto-pilot, I follow her intoxicating scent. With each step I take, it gets stronger. By the time I reach Bastian’s bedroom, wild horses couldn’t keep me away from Aria. From my mate.
Pushing open his door, I am met with a vision straight out of my fantasies.
Aria lies on the bed, her knees bent, her thighs spread open, her pretty pink pussy slick with desire. Bastian’s head is lowered to her breast. He tenses for a brief second when I step into the room, and then relaxes when he realizes it’s me.
“What have we here?”
Aria gasps and closes her legs. She tries to dislodge Bastian and sit up, reaching for a sheet to cover herself. Her face is flushed with embarrassment, and she can’t meet my eyes.
She’s Norm, I tell myself. They have some weird hang-ups about sex.
I don’t want to make her uncomfortable. I push back my desire. “Sorry to interrupt,” I murmur. “I’ll go.”
She bites her lower lip and stares at me for a long second. Then the beginning of a smile tips the corners of her mouth. “Actually,” she says, her cheeks still pink, “I’d really like it if you stayed.”
My cock is so hard, it’s tenting the towel obscenely. I prowl to the end of the bed. Bastian looks up at me and gives a discreet nod, inviting me to join before tugging Aria back down, and lavishing more attention on her perfectly pert nipples.
Jaeger’s a breast guy. Me? I need to taste her.
The mattress shifts under my weight. Aria’s eyes fly open when I take her ankles in my hands and spread her wide. I settle between them, her pussy a scant inch from my lips. Aria’s eyes burn brightly as she watches me lean forward. I lick a long, slow line across her pussy from top to bottom.
She moans, the sound low and sultry, like a punch to my gut. “Please…”
I swipe my tongue over her clitoris and her back arches off the bed. “Is that what you want, love?” I ask, my voice thick with arousal.
“Mmm… yesss…”