Dragon's Curse: A Dragon Shifter Romance (Dragon Guild Chronicles Book 4)

by Carina Wilder

“Of course you can see it,” she said, rising to her feet. As she did so, she brushed a hand over his knee. Minach watched her leave the room, not entirely certain whether it had been an accident. Moments later she’d disappeared into the front foyer, humming happily as though she didn’t have a care in the world. She was like a woman possessed, this one.

  Great, Minach thought. I’m mad about a woman who doesn’t want to touch me, let alone love me. Meanwhile, a Wolf shifter with another man’s spawn in her belly is giving me pretty damned obvious signals that she wants to seduce me into raising her child.

  Fuck my sodding life!

  “Here it is,” Caitlin said, marching back into the living room, her mood visibly light to match her eyes. She handed him the envelope, smiling when he made eye contact.

  “Thank you,” he said, extracting the letter and unfolding it over his thighs.

  The letter’s first lines were achingly familiar. Minach had heard them so many times over the months that he could have recited them from memory.

  The Four shall come together as One

  Water, Fire, Air and Earth

  The Circle’s final form begun.

  And to the world of Dragons, rebirth.

  Caitlin seated herself next to him once again as he uttered the words, her right arm nearly close enough to touch his left.

  “What does it mean?” she asked.

  “Well, the Four are the Relics,” he replied. “We’ve found three, and the Relic of Earth is the last of them. But it’s the next bit that’s important. Those are the lines that are crucial to you as a Seeker.”

  He read on, doing his best to memorize the lines as his eyes registered them:

  In Cornwall shall the Fourth be found.

  By the sea lies the broken tower,

  A fort atop an ancient mound.

  Therein lies the Dragons’ hidden power.

  “A broken tower?” said Minach. “A fort on a mound…or a hill? Can you think of such a place?”

  “In Cornwall?” Caitlin replied. “Well, there are ruins everywhere. You can’t throw a stone without hitting something old and broken.”

  “Damn it,” Minach growled, all but forgetting that he was supposed to behave himself and be sweet. “That is, you and I will have to work this out, won’t we?” He turned back to her and mustered as charming a smile as he could. “Listen, Caitlin,” he said, looking into her eyes. He could smell her Wolf in the room with them, all but masking any remnants of human scent. “Would you do something for me?”

  “Of course,” she replied, edging slightly closer to him.

  Damn, woman. Calm your Wolf before it tries to sink its teeth into me.

  “Would you keep thinking about where this place could be? It’s very important…to me.” With the last two words he leaned towards her, hating himself for the lie in his body language. He was trying to draw out her déor even further, trying to manipulate her to his will. Surprisingly enough, he seemed pretty good at it.

  “I will,” she said, “of course. I’d do anything I could to help you, Minach.”

  “Thank you.” He rose to his feet in preparation for his departure, which aroused a look of disappointment on Caitlin’s features. “Listen, I’ll come find you tomorrow. I’m sorry again for my behaviour earlier,” he said.

  “It’s all right,” she said, pulling herself up to a standing position. “I know you didn’t mean it.”

  “You do?” You’re so wrong, lady.

  “You’re a Dragon shifter,” she said. “Duncan was the same. He could be wild, untamed, and difficult. But I always knew it was only his Dragon’s strength showing through in a sort of bossy, petulant behaviour. That was why he was such a good Alpha to our people. He didn’t back down from anyone.” She was moving closer again, but she stopped about a foot from him, much to Minach’s relief. “I see the same traits in you.”

  “I’m flattered,” he replied, trying hard to imagine what Amara might like him to say in this extremely awkward situation. “That’s a kind compliment.”

  “I hope you stay here for some time, Minach,” Caitlin said, laying her hand on his arm and edging her face up towards his. “I’d like to get to know you.”

  The Dragon shifter was getting the distinct impression that just as he was manipulating her, her Wolf was trying the same manoeuvre on him. Using her feminine wiles, trying her best to charm him against his will. Were it not for Amara’s existence, she might even have succeeded. Caitlin was beautiful, with large, almond-shaped eyes that had a way of looking into his own, both shy and coquettish at once. An upper lip perfectly shaped like a bow. Peaches and cream skin. Minach could see how Duncan had fallen for her; he could see how any man might succumb to her promise of affection.

  However, his own thoughts were with one woman only. A woman who had stormed off somewhere, furious with him. Well, now he’d redeemed herself. He needed to find her and let her know that all was well.

  He needed her to like him again.

  “I’d like to get to know you as well,” he said softly, his mind reeling with thoughts of Amara. Shit, that sounded like a come-on. “You and your entire pack, that is,” he quickly clarified.

  With that, another look of disappointment washed over Caitlin’s face.

  Well shite, I’ve said the wrong thing again.

  “You in particular, of course,” he said, mustering a crooked smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah? We need—I mean I’d like—to talk further.”

  She reached out and took his hand in hers, grasping it tight as she canted her head to the side and smiled up at him. Flirtatious young Wolf. “Yes, tomorrow. I look forward to it.”

  “Okay, then,” Minach said awkwardly as he pondered how long he was supposed to leave his fingers in her care. Finally he pulled them loose and turned away. But before he’d managed to take a step she spoke again.

  “Minach…”

  “Yes?” he asked over his shoulder.

  “Are you and Amara…that is…are you…?”

  “Are we a couple?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “No. We’re not.”

  On this one matter, at least, he could be utterly honest.

  Intimacy

  It didn’t take long for Minach to find Amara wandering down the town’s High Street, perusing shopfronts as she went. When he caught up to her she was staring intently at an Irish wool sweater through a large window.

  “I thought you’d have fled back to London by now,” he said, relieved beyond words to find that she hadn’t.

  She turned his way. “I thought I’d wait and see if you’d catch me up. I had a feeling you’d do the right thing in the end. Any leads on the Relic?”

  Ah, so she’d cooled off a little. Good.

  “Possibly, though a cryptic one, of course. It seems we’re looking for a ruined fort atop a hill.”

  “It sounds like some research is in order,” Amara said, still strolling, still looking. “Thank God for the internet, I suppose.”

  “I’m not sure search engines are going to save us. Caitlin mentioned that there are countless ruins in Cornwall.”

  “Caitlin is a smart young woman,” Amara replied. “She likes you, you know.”

  “She’s a pregnant young woman, and her Wolf is looking for a new mate.”

  “Well, perhaps you should consider settling down here.” Amara looked about, eyeing the pleasant buildings and vivid plant life around her. She was looking everywhere, it seemed, but at his face. “Perthewey is a pretty place. You could do worse than to make a new home here.”

  “Yes, well, I could do better, too. Listen, Amara…I did what you asked,” he said.

  “Thank you,” she replied, turning away to eye a small garden in a window planter.

  “I did it for you alone. I just want you to know that.”

  For a moment Minach thought he caught a blush on her cheek. No, it must have been a trick of the light; Amara so rarely flushed.

  “You should do it for yo
u,” she said, turning to him and looking into his eyes for the first time in what felt like hours. She was so intense, so beautiful, so exquisitely experienced and wise. Such a contrast to the young Wolf Caitlin. Amara was her own woman and played by her own set of rules, and Minach was realizing with each minute that passed how much he adored her for it. “Anyhow, thank you,” she added. “I appreciate it, and I’m sure Caitlin did as well.”

  Minach turned to look around, his eyes searching the street for the promise of food. “Listen, I’m hungry. There’s a restaurant across the way. How about something to eat before we head off in search of our temporary residence?”

  Amara nodded. “I’m always up for food,” she said.

  “Good, come with me.” He turned and guided her towards the business, whose sign consisted of a carved wooden anchor, painted gold and hanging from two chains. No doubt the place served freshly caught fish straight from the ocean.

  Inside, they found a typical old English establishment; warm, rich wood stain, old framed photographs and stucco walls that threatened to crumble with age and the climate’s humidity. When they’d found a table in a secluded corner, Minach waited for Amara to seat herself before placing himself opposite her.

  “I know I’m a bastard,” he said as he squeezed into his too-small chair, a smile on his face. “I just wanted to tell you that.”

  “You know, your acknowledgment of it doesn’t make me feel better about the fact that you are one. If you know you’re a bastard, you’re all the worse for tolerating it from yourself.”

  “I haven’t finished, Amara,” he replied, his smile fading. “I’m sorry for disappointing you. That’s all, really.”

  She offered up the gift of a smile of her own. “Apology accepted,” she said. “I know how hard it is for you to admit when you’re wrong, so I can’t very well stay angry with you.”

  Minach laid a hand on the table, slowly clenching it into a fist. He looked away, unable to lock eyes with her while he spoke his next words. “The thing is, I don’t much like it about myself, but I’ve always just sort of accepted it. Then you came into my life, and…well, you make me want to be better. For the first time in my life, there’s someone around who makes me believe I can improve myself—that I have some sort of vague potential.”

  “Of course you have potential, Minach. Everyone does.”

  “Yes, well, I’ve always thought of myself as a failure.”

  She raised her eyebrows, almost looking like she was going to laugh in response.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked.

  “Oh, come on now. You’re a huge man, covered in muscles. You’re as handsome as anything; you saw how the Wolf was looking at those intense eyes of yours. You’re a walking god, and you’re sitting here telling me you feel like a nothing? It’s absurd.”

  He sat back and stared at her, hurt streaking through him. Hurt. God, how he hated that word, hated any sort of weakness in himself. Hated that she was the only person on earth who could break his heart. Hated, even, that she thought so highly of him when he didn’t deserve it.

  “It’s not absurd in the least. I’m not what you think I am, Amara,” he said, shocked at his own admission. “I’m broken, much as my exterior might seem whole and functional. I may be objectively handsome but I suspect that my insides are foul and beyond repair.”

  Amara’s expression softened into something sympathetic and warm as she leaned forward, extending a hand to touch his arm. “Minach, you’re not broken in any way that can’t be fixed. You’re capable of anything you wish to do. You must know that by now.”

  “Anything?” he asked. “I don’t think so.”

  “Tell me, then. What can’t you do?”

  “It’s more what I can’t have that kills me,” he said, averting his eyes again. Weakness had begun working its way deep inside his gut with each word out of his mouth. He was opening up, and the more he revealed, the more vulnerable he became. “What I desire eludes me,” he said quietly.

  “What do you desire then? Tell me. I’m sure I can help.”

  “Can you?”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  He turned his pale eyes on her, looking her up and down, a hunger in his face that she’d never seen. “You,” he said. “I desire you, Amara. I have wanted you from the first moment I met you. I’m not talking about sex alone, much as you may assume I’m that narrow-minded.”

  She drew back almost immediately, snatching her hand away. “What are you talking about, then?”

  “I’m talking about claiming you as my mate.”

  Curses

  She dropped her hand into her lap, unsure of how to react to such intensely meaningful words. A tremor went through her body like the aftershock of an earthquake, hitting every part of her in waves. He’d always teased her, always flirted, but she’d always supposed it was a sort of deliberate inappropriateness meant as mere playfulness. She’d assumed that he knew it was safe to play with her because they would never be together. Never had it occurred to her that his declarations could possibly come from somewhere so deep within his soul.

  “I don’t know what to say to that,” she replied. “I mean, you’ve joked around so many times…”

  “I don’t joke, not really,” he said, a distinctly low growl shading his voice. “I want you more than anything in this world. When I’m with you, I’m happy. I think in those moments that there is some hope in this godforsaken fucking world. You fill me with the stuff. You’re like a painkiller; a healthy one for which there’s no such thing as an overdose.”

  She stared at him, her lips sealed. Nothing would have pleased her more than to tell him that she felt the same way. That he made her feel more alive than anything had since her youth, the days long before her Wolf had gone dormant. He renewed her energy, made her feel warm despite her cold-running blood. Despite the fact that she wasn’t whole. He gave her strength when she had none.

  “It’s fine. Don’t say anything,” he muttered, turning away.

  “Minach, you don’t understand,” she said. “It’s not a simple thing, this. I…”

  “You what? Find me repugnant? Well, I don’t blame you, given the way I behave,” he shot her. “I’m not the charmer that Aegis is, or the leader that Lumen is. I’m not sweet and gentle like my twin…”

  “No, it’s not that. Not at all.”

  “What is it then?” His icy blue eyes locked on hers again, and she could have wept for how gorgeous he looked. How hurt, how vulnerable. He was so real in that moment.

  “Minach, I’m dying.”

  The Dragon shifter pulled back, his eyebrows knitting together. “What did you just say?”

  “It’s happening to all of us,” she said, her gaze pulling away from his to take in anything but him. “All of the Enlightened, all of my kind. Our lives are proving unsustainable. We’ve known it for some time. It won’t happen tomorrow. Perhaps not even next year. But my time is coming, and soon. The wound I sustained under Glastonbury Tor was a blow to what was already a weakening body. It drained me so that I can’t fight as I used to. I can function, but that’s all. I suppose I should never have taken this job with the Syndicate. The truth is that I’m not the warrior I once was. I told Bertie that I’m good with a blade, but I’m not, not anymore.”

  “No, this can’t be,” he muttered. She thought she saw his chest tighten, his face losing its colour. His entire body seemed to deflate before her eyes. “How is this happening?”

  “Someone such as me has needs—physical needs—that can’t be met without sacrificing our souls. There’s only so long that my kind can survive on the blood of animals. My body is breaking down slowly. I’m fading, and I’m not sure how long I might have.”

  “You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met, Amara.” He slammed his fist down on the table, drawing stares from the restaurant’s patrons. “No. This makes no sense.”

  She averted her eyes, turning her face away to hide her grief. Shaking her head, she replie
d, “I’m not so strong. I’d hoped to help my people, to find a way out of this fate of ours. But the truth is that the only way to grow strong is through the very thing we disdain, and even that is only temporary, Minach.”

  “You would need human blood to sustain you.” He spoke the words quietly, a hint of disgust in his voice.

  “Yes,” said Amara. “You know what it means. You know what would become of me if I succumbed to that urge.”

  “You would become one of them.” Minach sneered as he uttered the last word, his disdain for the Forsaken lingering on the air.

  She nodded. “But I will never give in, and as punishment my body will continue to decay, as it has my whole life.”

  “Can I not help you? What can I do?” he asked, helplessness tightening his vocal cords.

  She offered up a weak smile. Reaching for his hand, she took it in both of hers. His massive fingers dwarfed hers, but she squeezed tight. “Be my friend,” she said, “as you have been since we met.”

  “I want to be more to you,” he protested. “So much more than that.”

  Amara’s heart ached as she took in the words. She wanted it too. He was more to her than a friend; he was a soul mate. A platonic one, but a soul mate all the same. They were one another’s support in difficult times, but so much more than that, too. He was the man she desired with everything inside her. He was her nourishment, as much as the animal blood that she ingested reluctantly.

  “I don’t think I can give you more, Minach,” she said quietly. “Listen, can we order some food to take away, and find this cottage Bertie told me about? Suddenly I’m not feeling so much like eating.”

  Minach looked dejected, defeated. But he nodded. “Sure, I’ll go speak to someone.”

  A few minutes later when he’d handed Amara a large, warm paper bag containing what was presumably their lunch they stepped outside, only to find that the street around the restaurant’s entrance had suddenly become crowded.

  A small group of men and women—Wolf shifters, from the smell of things—stood just outside, seemingly anticipating their exit.