by Ginna Moran
The bastard unbuckles his belt, unzips his jeans, and tugs them down, revealing he goes commando. I thought now that he’s out of the Maximum Magical Penitentiary and free from their restrictions, he might man-scape, but he hasn’t. And fuck is he as hairy as a human as he is in his lycan form. The only thing different is his little dick tip peeking from his scraggly bush.
He shakes his hips, attempting to swing his flaccid cock, but it looks nothing like the helicopter move Rowan has done to make me laugh.
“Are you expecting me to fall on my knees or something? If you’re going to try to hypnotize me, you should probably trim your pubes, so I can see your mini-pendulum swing.” I smirk at my words, holding back my laughter.
He growls and strokes his hand along his shaft, trying to make it grow. “Fuck you. Go be a good girl and take the damn shower. If you don’t, I’ll keep Kash in his dragon form permanently.”
My steely expression breaks. “You’re sick, Quillon.”
“What will it be, Red?” Quillon steps closer, and I finally avert my eyes to the floor, knots twisting through my body. “Put on that sexy little number waiting for you in the bathroom, with your hair up, maybe some lipstick...or your mate spends the rest of his life as a dragon.”
I shudder and don’t respond.
“All right, fine.” Quillon turns toward the window and pulls the curtain. “You hear that, Kashy? Your mate’s a real bitch. Selfish. You give up your freedom for her, and she won’t even do a little dance to keep you as a man.”
I flick my gaze to the window, angry tears bursting from my eyes. Kash bows to watch us through the window in his dragon form, his hazel eyes flickering with fire. Smoke pours from his nostrils, and he bares his teeth.
His fury plows into me, forcing the air from my lungs. “Don’t even consider it, kitten,” Kash thinks to me, his mind open and heavy with his emotions. “I would rather remain in this form forever than ever have you do something like that for his ass.”
I furiously blink my eyes, considering his words. I hate that as much as I want to agree with Kash, Quillon is right. It’s one performance to free my mate for at least another day. I couldn’t stand it knowing I could do this and chose not to.
“It’s just dancing,” I respond, chanting the words in my mind, saying them more for myself than for Kash.
“Nova, I’m serious.” Kash growls again, the vibration quivering across the window pane.
“I am too,” I say, opening my thoughts completely like he taught me. I want more than just him to hear my words. I want him to feel them deep in his being like he does our mate bond. “I know you want to protect me. I know you can feel how sick this makes me feel, and you think you’re the reason for it, but you’re not. Life has been fucking unfair and brutal, and I refuse to sit around and watch it be as ruthless to you. I don’t give a fuck if this makes me uncomfortable. The idea of losing the ability to be held by you in your arms, one of my favorite places in the whole shitty universe, is far, far worse.”
I get to my feet and force my gaze away from Kash to where Quillon flops on his bed, watching me with his vile expression. He can’t hear my telepathic conversation with Kash—one I’m so thankful and still a bit surprised over every time one of my mate’s voices sneaks into my mind—but Quillon knows what’s going on. It’s like he gets off on tormenting us. He really is a true criminal and undeserving of the freedom he gained with us.
“That’s a good girl,” Quillon quips, adjusting his pillows against his headboard. I nearly gag when he reaches into his nightstand for a bottle of lube.
“You’re a sick fuck, you know.” I swipe the stereo remote off the dresser and chuck it at him, missing his head by an inch. “Now, pick something good. I can’t dance to most of the shit you like.”
I stride to the bathroom and slam the door shut. Covering my face with my hands, I take a few deep breaths, calming my nerves. Fuck. What is wrong with me? This should be an easy decision. I should be able to slap on my show smile and act my way through the night. I’ve performed in front of an audience in skimpy outfits for years. I’ve been catcalled, objectified, and groped after shows with Galaxy Gold and the Sky Dancers. I’ve had money thrown in my face and fuckheads thinking that I’d be willing to give private shows because I survived and lived on other’s generosity.
But this? Ugh. The time my mate needs me to suck it up and give in to a bastard in exchange for normalcy—I hesitate. I question everything. If I give him this sort of power over me now, what will he want next? A blow job? Then to fuck?
Swinging my arm, I punch the wall, sending pain radiating through my fist. My knuckles ache, my fingers turning red.
Music kicks on in Quillon’s room, and I close my eyes, listening to the slow, seductive tune of something I’ve never heard before. Spinning around, I sway my body, losing myself to the song of my disparity, my anguish. The song I plan to murder Quillon to the second we manage to free him from the lycan curse, and in doing so, fulfilling Kash’s debt.
I pull myself together and twirl toward the sink, using the counter to stretch and loosen my tense muscles. Instead of showering—because fuck that bullshit—I’m not preparing myself for him, I splash water on my face, tie my hair up into a high ponytail, and swipe a layer of messy lipstick across my mouth. I force myself to smile in the small, rectangular mirror, stained with flecks of dried toothpaste from Quillon’s purposefully slobby behavior.
“You are not dancing for Quillon,” I say to myself. “You are dancing for your mate.”
Spinning on the balls of my feet, I gawk at the skimpy lingerie and platform stilettos. The sheer fabric will leave nothing to the imagination, and it’ll be as if I dance naked. Annoyance rushes through me, and I strip into my panties and bra and say fuck it, pulling the red lace and stringy combo over what I’m already wearing. If he says something, he’ll get this damn heel to the face.
I strut to the door and fling it open. Ice trickles through my veins, stealing the warmth from my body. Quillon doesn’t even react to my double layers like I expect, his eyes roving over me like he can undress me with his gaze. I stand frozen, clutching the doorframe. My body refuses to move. I’ve never had stage fright before, and it feels like if I try to take even a step, I’ll die.
“Come on, Red,” Quillon calls, snapping my attention from my thoughts. “Standing there like a whore after a walk of shame is killing my boner.”
This fucker.
Kash’s growl shakes the windowpane again, and I whip my attention to the open curtain. My chest tightens at his fiery intensity, his dragon form angry and smoldering with his need to burn the house down.
I nearly lose my nerve.
I almost lose my shit and start sobbing.
But one more look at Kash steels me against Quillon’s attempt to control me like I’m his little plaything.
Forcing my mouth to smile, I put on my performance expression, choosing to dance with only Kash on my mind. The music shatters my nerves, reminding me that I’m a strong, fierce woman who survived in the Maximum Magical Penitentiary. I’ve experienced far worse than this, and if anything, this will only empower me to put Quillon in his damn place.
I sway my body, turning my gaze to Quillon, aroused and unashamedly jerking off on his bed. He’s made a huge fucking mistake to think he could ever make me feel out-of-control and vulnerable, especially when he is the one truly exposed.
I mean, accidents happen, right?
He’s going to regret his decisions to egg on my wild beast. My dragon is ready to roar.
Strolling forward, I gauge the amount of space I have, the room barely big enough to perform any floor routines. The height of the ceiling limits me as well, and I decide to stick to a few holds that will stretch my body and enable me to do the one thing I want: Surprise the cocky bastard.
Facing the metal pole, I lace my left hand around the cool metal and position my left foot at an angle before stretching my right leg up and over my head into the splits.
I balance in place with my heel and grip the pole, stretching back.
Quillon releases a whistle. “Do it the other way. I want to see more.”
I inhale a few breaths, trying to control my rage, and twirl around the pole. I’m not used to dancing in platforms, so I grab the pole in one hand and swing my back leg up in a standing split, and unbuckle my first shoe. Quillon’s eyes remain glued to my body, his hand picking up speed on his rub and tug monstrosity. I smirk, my mind whirling.
Curling my toes, I grip the unbuckled stiletto and sway my way to the floor. Quillon shifts up onto his knees for a better view. I take advantage of his position and closeness, climbing up the pole midway and smile. He returns my grin with lust-filled eyes like he believes I suddenly enjoy dancing for him.
So I kick out my leg, letting my heel fly off, smashing right into his face.
Roaring, Quillon loses control of his humanity, and his lycan beast bursts through his skin, sprouting long hair over his entire body. It happens so quickly, I miss the satisfaction of not only killing his teensy boner but making it disappear completely within the matted nest of gross wiry fur between his legs.
“You fucking bitch,” Quillon howls, launching at me, his voice guttural and wet coming from his snout. His half-man, half-beast body tears at the comforter, shredding it with his talon-like claws.
Damn. I didn’t think this through.
Swinging up, I curl myself around the top of the pole but can’t get high enough out of his reach. Kash roars outside the house, screaming my name through my mind, warning me to watch out for his claws. The last thing I want is to get gouged by him. The pain I’ve gone through before...
I stiffen and drop down.
Quillon swipes out to grab me and misses, and I land on my knees. The feral smell of musk and something wilder blows over me. I don’t move fast enough as Quillon snarls and pounces on me, trapping me to the floor with his hulking frame. Leaning in, he snaps his teeth in my face, spraying me with his disgusting slobber. I cringe and twist my neck, trying to avoid getting it in my eyes.
“Get off of me,” I command, fear and anger rolling through me. The house shudders with Kash’s anxious stomping, unable to do anything against Quillon to save me.
“No. I’m fucking sick and tired of your bullshit. If you’re going to be a bitch to me and treat me like I’m beneath you, then you’re going to learn what it’s like to be under me.” Quillon snatches my wrists and pulls them over my head.
Heat bursts through my core, my whole body reacting to his threat. He doesn’t have a cock at the moment, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to lie here and find out what twisted plan swirls through his mind.
My arms glow as my dragon fire ignites in my veins, the sudden sensation feeling like I’m a balloon about to burst. Quillon snarls, his face morphing in shock. A screech bellows from his snout as the heat of my body singes some of his hair.
I break my hand free of his hold and sucker punch him in the throat and shove him off. Fire glows in my palm. I have my arm in warning, wishing I could get my body to release my power on command. I realize more than ever how frustrated and terrified I feel facing monsters out to get me.
“Stay away from me,” I say, my voice deep with the rasp of my burning throat. “Don’t ever touch me again.”
“I guess you don’t want to ever see Kash as a man again,” Quillon snaps, glowering at me.
“Nova, please. Just get out of there. We’ll figure something out.” Kash roars again from outside the window, his desperate thoughts coursing through me. “This is torture, not being able to help you. Please.”
I meet Kash’s gaze, my eyes burning with unshed tears. “I don’t care if he’s a man or not,” I say, unbuckling the other stiletto. “He’s my mate, and I care for him regardless. So fuck off, douchebag. I’m done playing your games.”
“You’re going to regret it,” Quillon warns.
I try to summon my dragon fire once more, but nothing happens. So I rush from the room, slamming the door. I won’t stay with that asshole another moment. I’ll sleep outside with Kash and in the safety of his shadow.
If only a hulking form didn’t materialize in the door and block my way.
Maddox grabs me by the shoulders, stopping me in place. “Are you okay, cookie?” he asks, feeling like a brick wall against my palms. “Kash called me to come for you.”
My bottom lip quivers, and I suck it between my teeth. “I’m fine. I was just going to see him.”
Maddox slides his hand around to my lower back, holding me close, sensing that if he lets me go, I might run. “My brother doesn’t think he can give you what you need in his current state. He asked that I be here for you instead.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. I want to shove past Maddox and run to Kash anyway, but if he asked Maddox to be with me, he must need the moment more for himself.
“Rowan will be with him. Don’t worry, kitten,” Maddox adds, surprising me. “Now, come on. Let me feed you and give you what you need.”
I shake my head. “The only thing I need right now is for you to teach me how to use my dragon fire. I want to be able to rely on myself. Kash was so worried about me—I couldn’t stand it.”
Maddox sharply nods his head. “Whatever you want.”
“Really?” I ask, tilting my head. “This is a first.”
He chuckles. “Well, I have to admit, I love the idea of wrestling with you and seeing you sweat. Punishing you when you fail to listen. Push your buttons...” Fire lights his eyes with the thoughts crossing his mind. “When do you want to start?”
I clench my fingers into fists, hearing the sound of the backdoor slamming as Quillon leaves. I meet Maddox’s gaze. “Now.”
Chapter 3
Reward
“GET YOUR ASS MOVING, DELPHIA.” Maddox’s voice swirls through my mind. Even though it has been a couple weeks since learning he can do that outside of the Maximum Magical Penitentiary and their suppressant spells to contain its inmates, it still weirds me out a bit because he doesn’t do it often. “You better pick up your pace. I’m not going to go easy on you for much longer.”
Damn. If he’s using my Drakovich name, I know he’s about to turn into a raging bastard if he believes I don’t do as good as he thinks I should. I knew I couldn’t expect him to stay tender and affectionate like he had been all night, working on different forms of meditation techniques to help me focus.
He’d never admit it, but the Mortal World freaks him out. And when Maddox is nervous, he acts like a tough asshole to cover it up. But I can feel his trepidation as if it’s my own. This whole situation is probably only the frosting on his panic cake now that we have no idea what to do next. I don’t even know where to begin to find my aunt, and her strange magical message through Granny Tucker? Utter bullshit.
“I hope you know you’re making me hold back. I expected more fight from a hardened criminal. You tore a man in half yet you can’t last for a round of cardio? It makes me question your mortal profession.” Maddox shoots a burst of fire, hitting the ground at my feet.
“You’re a lying asshole. This bond works two ways, remember? You’re getting tired,” I shout, swiping sweat from my eyes.
He growls in response, sending me a wave of determination to conceal his feelings.
Sometimes late at night, Maddox does let his guard down, and I can hear what’s truly on his mind. It gives me a new appreciation of him, knowing his mental battles. He second guesses his ability to protect me and his brothers since he can’t safely transform into his strongest form regularly like Kash can without any sort of magical shield to hide from humans and anyone from Magaelorum who might be after us. He’s aiding a deadly fugitive after all.
“Focus on your damn self and move faster, cookie,” Maddox calls, shouting from behind me. He does it to show he’s closing the distance. “If I catch you, I will tackle you and have my way with you. I still have my restraints. Don’t think I won’t use them. You obviously need more m
otivation to control your dragon fire.”
Damn. I both love and hate the sound of that. His brand of punishment shouldn’t be so infuriatingly addictive. I shouldn’t want to slow down just to discover what he plans to do to me with his restraints.
I crane my neck and peer behind me. Maddox’s arms flex with his strides. Sweat glistens across his broad, bare chest, defining the ridges and peaks of his sexy, buff body. A wicked grin splits across his face and the cocky bastard winks.
I’m nearly certain he heard my thoughts wander to a place they shouldn’t, but if he does, he doesn’t comment. He either pretends he can’t listen in on my thoughts whenever he pleases because I suck at keeping him and his brothers out, or he shuts me out of his head. Either way, only Rowan has ever admitted that they can hear me even when I’m not thinking directly to them. I can’t decide which is better, though. Probably them pretending they can’t.
“All right. You’re making this too easy. I know you can move faster than this,” Maddox says, closing the space even more. His long, muscular legs and tall frame give him an advantage over me. I hardly think this race is fair despite my head start.
“Well, if you’d stop making punishment sound so fun, I wouldn’t want to lose to you, asshole,” I call, huffing a breath, the exertion of speaking and running way harder than Maddox makes it seem.
“Unless I withhold something from you. I know how much you hate that.” The soft thuds of Maddox’s bare feet quickening in pace is enough to push me to get my act together. The fucker just had to go there. I wouldn’t put it past him to work me up and leave me restrained to a bed while he sat and watched me squirmed.
“Sounds like someone might need a taste of their own assholeness,” I mutter, gasping another breath.
“I’d love to see you try.” He tosses another burst of fire at my feet, trying to either knock me down or haul ass. Which one? Who fucking knows.