I had transformed, come into my dragon self... I swallow. I had put it off for so long. Then Hawke had asked me to fight Dimitri and everything inside of me had reacted on instinct.
I had embraced that hidden part of me...finally.
I had broken away from Dimitri, then...had combined my energy with Hawke's. I had accepted the mating bond. He'd harnessed our joined-up energies to overcome Dimitri. The enemy of the Fae Corps...was finally routed. We'd done it. Hawke and I... And all the Fae Corps. All of us had played a role in it. I swallow. We are safe.
And I...had transformed to my shifter self. Heat swells my veins; adrenaline pumps in my blood. I am so hot. Why am I so hot? Why is my heart racing, my pulse pounding? I swallow and my throat hurts. My tongue is swollen. I lick my lips, but they are dry, like paper. Not enough moisture. Something is missing. I lurch to my feet. The world tilts. I dig my heels into the ground to steady myself. More sweat breaks out on my brow, on my palms. I stagger forward. The floor is cool against my soles. I reach the doorway, step through, onto the landing.
A bee flies in through the open door at the end of the hallway. I freeze, track it as it buzzes toward me... I swoop up, grab it in my palm, then stagger back to the open window. When I open my fingers, it darts away. I track it as it heads for the flowers—pink petals, surrounding a yellow core, stalks of pollen clustered in the center.
I glance down at the line of ants marching up the bark of a tree. The crunch of the earth as the beetle digs into the ground. The scent of the air—the tang of the leaves, the aroma of the sand from the seashore. Every single note is separate... Yet woven together in a unique rhapsody. Huh? I must have hurt my head. Is that why I can sense so many different layers to the atmosphere? The sun, the sea, the air. A chill invades my skin. My scalp tingles. Something is not right. My stomach grumbles. Hunger? Maybe that's what it is?
I push away from the window. My steps increase in pace. I reach the staircase, run down the steps, hit the ground floor.
The clinking of dishes reaches me, the smell of something cooking... Food? That dark, edgy sensation roils in my belly. The ball of sensation in my chest flares to life. Him. He is there. My nails slide out of my fingertips... My mouth waters. I turn toward the source of my fascination, increase my speed. By the time I burst into the kitchen, I am panting. My chest heaves; my thigh muscles spasm.
I barrel toward the man by the cooking range.
"Stop."
His voice whips through the noise in my head, pushes all thoughts aside. I pause so suddenly that I tremble. My spine curves; my feet skid. I grab onto the island in the center of the room. Take in the broad back—the broad naked back. The gorgeous sculpted planes of his back wing down to a narrow waist. He wears a pair of sweatpants that cling to every inch of his muscled glutes. His powerful thighs are outlined through the material. Shouldn't they hang on him? Aren't sweatpants meant to be loose...? I swallow. He's muscled enough for the material to cling to every corded muscle of his powerful limbs. Moisture pools in my center.
I take a step forward; he jerks his chin.
"Sit."
I frown. Why isn't he looking at me? I march forward and he holds up a hand.
"Do not disobey me." His voice is hushed, there's an edge to it I haven't heard before. Is he angry with me?
"Do as I tell you."
My nerve-endings spark. Why is he being so...so unreasonable?
"Hawke."
He swivels toward me.
I stare at his gorgeous features, then glance down at his chest. His beautiful, sculpted, molded-into-an-eight-pack chest, that bears not a single scar.
"You healed?" I stab a finger at him.
"Thanks to you."
"I didn't do anything." I frown.
"Sure, you did. You opened yourself up, accepted the mating bond. You shared your essence with me."
"So?" I toss my head.
"So, you helped me heal."
"And you fucked me."
He frowns. "I made love to you."
"Whatever."
"You can't pretend it didn't happen."
The ball of heat in my chest whirls; the ache between my legs intensifies. "Don't remind me."
"Just as I expected." He tilts his head in that annoying know-it-all gesture.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"That you are acting your age."
"I'm eighteen, deal with it."
"What you are, is spoiled," he growls. His shoulders bunch; the amber in his eyes glows with an edgy energy that connects with something deep inside of me. The pores on my skin pop; my knees threaten to give way. Shit. One look from him, and I'm ready to bend over the table and ask him to fuck me from behind. Hard. That's what I want, right?
All of these months, I'd been yearning for one look from him, one glance, one taste of the sweat off of his skin and now... Now that I have it, now that we've acknowledged what we feel for each other, now that he's mated me... Why...do I feel so damn churlish? So unprepared for whatever it is to come?
"This won't work."
He stiffens. "What?”
I wave a hand between us. "This...whatever it is."
"What is it, you think?"
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"What do you think is between us?"
"I don't know." I glower. "Don't care."
"You are such a bloody liar."
"I'm not." I stick out my lower lip. Jesus, I'm behaving like a brat... Too bad. My chest hurts, my belly twists, and the hollow between my legs gnaws at me. More. I want more. More what? My stomach grumbles, the sound so loud that a flush deepens my cheeks.
"You're hungry?"
"I'm angry."
"Hangry." He nods. "Or," his eyes twinkle, "is that horngry?"
"Stop putting a twist to my words."
"Stop fighting everything."
"And what, give in?"
"Sometimes." He takes a step forward and I stiffen. He pauses. "Sometimes, little Ember, you take it as it comes."
"I hate it when you go all old and philosophical on me."
"I may be older," he rubs the back of his neck, "doesn't mean I am wiser. You, on the other hand, are the bravest, most gorgeous woman I have ever met—"
I widen my eyes.
"—when you're not being such a brat."
"I'm not." I lower my chin to my chest.
"You are, and by the way," he looks me up and down, "you forgot something."
"What?"
He glances down at my chest then back at my face.
My cheeks heat.
"So, I didn't wear any clothes. Big f'ing deal."
"Hmm," his lips twich, "definitely hangry. Why don't you sit down and I'll feed you?"
"No."
"Don't disobey me."
"I'll do whatever I want."
His jaw hardens, anger spools off of him, and my nipples harden. My heart begins to race, more moisture pools between my thighs, and that makes me madder. I curl my fingers at my sides.
"You're not my keeper."
"You're right."
"Oh?"
"I'm your mate."
45
Hawke
Bloody fucking hell. Why the fuck can't I shut the fuck up?
Her lips turn down, she juts out her chin, and her shoulders draw back. Defiance is written into every angle of her body. Fuck. I screwed that up royally. I'd wanted to cook for her, feed her, take care of her, show her how much she means to me... Allow her to ease into her shifter self. Instead... I'd been highhanded with her, commanded her, and of course, she had resisted. Strong- willed, gorgeous, annoying, little hellion.
"Charley." I try to keep my voice soft, modulate it so it doesn't rile her. And what does she do?
She scowls at me, turns on her heels and marches toward the exit. Her butt twitches, the scent of her arousal deepening.
"Stop, Char."
She holds up a middle finger above her shoulder and something inside of me snaps.
&nb
sp; A low growl rips out of me.
She springs forward, but I am faster. She hadn't counted on my telekinetic abilities, hasn't dealt with me when I am at full power. She's seen the 'nice' version of me. She doesn't know how it is to deal with an alpha Fae at his full potential.
I drop into myself, yank on the telekinetic energy, power forward, to appear in the door. She slams into my chest.
"Ow." She stumbles back.
I grab her shoulders.
"You asshole, you hurt me."
"You hurt yourself, doll."
"Don't call me that."
"I'll call you whatever I want."
"You're such a bully." She glowers up.
"Such a little princess."
"Well forgive me, for wanting to speak my mind."
"You don't know your own mind."
"Of course, I do." Her cheeks heat and her eyes flare.
"You have no idea what you want."
"And I suppose you do?"
"I know that you need to eat."
"Not."
"Yep." I jerk my chin toward the table.
She sets her jaw. "I'm so not moving."
"Yes, you are." I bend my knees, scoop her into my arms.
"Hey." She wriggles her hips, but I'm already moving. She punches me in the side, "Let me down, you jackass."
"Is that anyway to thank me for all of the effort I've put into cooking for you?"
"You can go stuff it."
I click my tongue, "Oh, I am going to stuff you all right, after I satisfy your appetite for food, that is."
She pulls back her knee. Oh, I know what she's going to do. I teleport to the chair, drop her in it, then pull up a strand of telekinetic energy and wrap it around her, tying her to the chair.
"Let me the hell go." She yanks at her restraints with such force that the chair skids forward, trapping her against the table.
"How dare you tie me up?" She yells.
"Payback for what you did to me earlier."
"That was...was..." her stomach growls.
"Exactly." I walk to the counter, grab the plate with the food I cooked earlier. Turning, I place it front of her.
She stares at it, then sets her lips.
"Now, don't be like that."
She scrunches up her face.
"Come on, little Ember, open your mouth."
"No."
"Why are you denying yourself?"
She makes a strangled noise.
"If you don't eat, how will you get to fight with me?"
She glowers.
"Or have the nourishment to see through your transformation?'
She purses her lips.
"Besides, you'll enjoy our fucking more on a full stomach."
Her shoulders stiffen; she draws herself up, opens her mouth, "You dare—"
I pop the spoon of food in her mouth.
She chokes, then chews on it, swallows.
"Well?"
She scrunches up her face, "I think I'm going to be sick."
Her cheeks pale and a thin sheen of sweat coats her forehead. She isn't lying. She really is going to puke. She leans to the side, draws in a breath, and I close the distance between us.
I snap off the telekinetic restraints, lift her up and race to the sink. She leans over, heaves out the contents of her stomach.
I place her on her feet, support her, then reach for a washcloth. Wetting it I hold it to her forehead. She sighs, leans into me.
"Better?"
She nods. "I'm not sure what happened there... I couldn't keep down the food."
I scan her features, "You're pale. Let's get you to bed.” I toss aside the washcloth and scoop her up. She doesn't protest. Huh?
Charley being so docile?
I frown; something isn't right. I walk out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Reaching the bedroom, I cross the floor, then lower her to my bed. She doesn't point out that I brought her back to my room. She's definitely not herself.
She leans into the bedclothes, folds her arm over her eyes.
A shiver grips her.
"You cold?"
She shakes her head, stops. "I am hot one second, cold the next." She chuckles, "My body can't make up its mind how to feel."
I freeze. "What did you say?"
"Just that the temperature setting on my constitution is all out of whack, why?"
I straighten, run my fingers through my hair. My heart begins to race. A warmth coils in my chest and my belly hardens.
She lowers her arm, peruses my features. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
"Tell me."
I hesitate. Then sit down next to her on the bed. "Char."
"Hmm."
I take her hands in mine. "Promise you won't freak out if I tell you something."
"What?"
"You're going into a mating cycle."
46
Charley
I stare at his gorgeous face. "Wait, what?" My pulse begins to race. "That...that can't be right."
"Think about it. You transformed...iIt's something you've been putting off for a while."
"So?"
"So, you delayed it for so long and then you transformed, right before you accepted the mating bond. The combination was probably enough to—"
"Send me into my first mating cycle." As I say it, I know he’s right. I'd pushed it away for so long. Most dragon shifters had their first mating cycle not long after they began their periods. It was a signal that their body was ready to conceive. Me? I had refused to transform. I didn't want to go into heat. Didn't want to be dependent on a man... And yet, from the moment I'd seen Hawke, I'd wanted him. Been attracted to him. I'd hoped I could have him, without completing my transformation. Had hoped I could fuck him, without being mated... Keep it on a physical level...not get my thoughts, emotions or my heart involved... For that matter, had wanted to avoid mating him.
"Everything has gone wrong."
"Everything is right."
"I shouldn't have transformed."
"You changed to your shifter self, to save your life."
"I shouldn't have mated you."
"I am alive because of that. The Fae Corps have their city back, thanks to you twining your essence with mine. You gave us the missing power needed to overcome the deadliest of our enemies."
"You...you don't understand."
I yank my hands; he tightens his grip. "Explain it to me."
"I put off coming into my true shifter self because I didn't want to go into a heat cycle. I never want to be dependent on another man. Never want anyone else to control my life."
"You're letting him control you right now."
I still, "What do you mean?"
"You've run from him for so long, everything you’ve done has been to prove to him that he hadn't scarred you for life, that you could go on living. Fact is, even now, your actions are aimed at showing him that you are thriving despite what he did to you...except..."
"Except?"
"That's not the case, is it?"
A cold sensation grips my veins. My fingers and toes grow numb. "Explain yourself."
"You thought by not being dependent on another man, you'd never leave yourself vulnerable to being hurt the way your father hurt you."
A ball of emotions crowds my throat. My chest hurts. The blood thuds so hard at my temples, I am sure I am going to faint. "It's not true."
"It's time to face the truth."
"Which is?"
"You're letting him control your actions."
"I am not."
"Then trust me, Char, enough to open yourself up."
"If I do that, you'll hurt me."
"Maybe."
"So you don't deny it?"
"I promise to do everything possible to give you what you need."
"What I need may not be what I want."
He nods. His face softens. Is that compassion in his eyes? I hate it, I hate it. "I don't want your pity."
His mouth kicks up at the
corners. He takes in the way I have curled up into myself. "Trust me, that's the last thing on my mind."
I pull my knees up and into my chest, and his gaze deepens. Heat leaps off of his body, flows over me, slides into my blood. A flicker of something hot stabs at my center. Shit, I want him, need him in the most primal of ways. Despite the fact that everything he'd said is spot on. Didn't mean I had to accept it.
"I don't need you."
He leans forward, so close that the heat between us seems to intensify. Sweat springs up on my forehead. My pussy clenches and my nipples pebble. Damn it, why hadn't I thought to dress before I'd flounced out of here? I draw my legs closer.
"You're lying, Char."
"I am?" I swallow.
"You're going to have to bow to the inevitable."
"Which is?"
"That you belong to me."
"I belong to myself."
"You need me to slake that burning hunger inside of you."
His voice lodges deep inside of me. A shiver of pleasure lights up my center. My fingertips tingles, my toenails hurt, even my eyelashes throb with this...this unnamed hunger. Hell, I know what it is. So why can't I accept it? Why can't I give in to this connection finally? Submit to him. Allow him to pleasure me. Take what I need from him. "Maybe you're right. Maybe that's what I need, but why should I allow you to see me through my mating cycle?"
"Because not only am I your mate, but..."
"But?"
"By opening yourself up to me, you'll have broken his hold on you. You'll be trusting yourself to accept what's right for you, knowing you could stop me if you wanted to, you could walk away from me if things don't feel right."
"Aren't bonds between mates unbreakable?"
"Normally, unless both partners decide it isn't for them."
"You'd let me walk away?"
He cups my cheek, leans in close enough for our eyelashes to tangle. "Is that what you want?"
I nod.
A vein throbs at his temple. He peels back his lips and his canines drop. "Are you sure?"
"Y...yes."
He snarls; my guts twists. Sweat beads my palms.
Kidnapped by the Fae: Paranormal Dark Fae Romance (Fae's Claim Book 5) Page 21