The Panther's Rival

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The Panther's Rival Page 37

by Emilia Hartley


  She could play this game, too, she thought as his eyes followed the strawberry. There was a hunger in them that made her heart stutter. Fear spiked through her, but she kept it hidden.

  Maybe she couldn’t play this game, she realized. Hopefully, once he realized he might not get what he came for he would go looking for it in other places.

  Hopefully.

  “Is this your plan?” she asked. “You sit on my floor and watch me eat? This is not very entertaining.”

  He seemed to mull over her words, his eyes travelling over her apartment. Finally, his eyes seemed to catch something because he pushed himself up from the floor. She watched him pluck an acoustic guitar from the corner of the room. It was something that had come with the already furnished place. Yet, he sat himself at the end of the couch with the instrument in his lap, not once looking up at her as his fingers adjusted the strings.

  When his fingers finally played over the strings, the chord that spilled out seemed to move through her. It made her feel something, in the back of her throat, that she couldn’t quite define. The music that he played filled her. It made her want to lay back and close her eyes. They were drifting shut when she remembered that she was alone with a dragon.

  She had to keep her guard up. The magic that had faded at the beginning of his song returned to the tips of her fingers, ready to strike if need be. She couldn’t afford to let herself be tricked again. She knew that she was not the mate of any dragon. It wasn’t possible for a witch.

  Her legs stretched out, and against her better judgement, her toes touched his denim clad leg. She felt his body tense, a recognition of her touch, just for a moment. He barely missed a beat. His fingers continued to thrum the beat from the acoustic guitar. Gwen wondered what it was about this music that made her more daring. Was it the way that it hummed through her core and warmed things that had been cold for decades? Or, was it this mysterious man whose name she hadn’t even bothered to learn yet?

  It felt strangely more intimate to know that he was a dragon than it would be to know his name. She pondered if he could tell what she was, smell the herb magic that ran through her veins or the ozone that clung to her hair from more immediate magic? She guessed that it would be hard to ignore with a dragon’s nose. He had to know that she was a witch, but whether or not he knew that she was the Witch of Caernarfon was another story altogether.

  His fingers stopped strumming. The music faded from the room and she looked up to meet his eyes. Her foot absently rubbed against the denim of his leg. She caught herself and forced her foot to still. His hand left the neck of the guitar and fell upon her bare leg. His skin was warm and softer than she imagined. It made her breath catch in her throat.

  He leaned toward her and she felt her heart quicken, but there was no cold spike of fear behind it. She only felt the warmth of blood rushing to her cheeks. But, just as she thought he would close in, he leaned to the side and his fingers quickly snatched several rolls of cured meat before he leaned back into the couch. His eyes watched her carefully as he bit into the cured meat.

  “Can I ask you what your name is? Or, is that a guarded secret like the rest of you?”

  She looked out the window, her fingers laying over her lips to chase away the desire to let words better kept silent pour out. Weaving secrets around herself was a habit from days of old and her life on the run, one that probably kept her alive. Yet, she almost felt compelled to spill all of them at this man’s feet.

  “Call me Gwen,” she told him, not looking away from the scene outside her window. Gwen was short for the full name that had been given to her upon birth, but it was always smarter to keep your true name a secret. Especially when one was a witch and knew the things that could happen when another knew your true name. “Should I continue to call you dragon man? Or, would you like another moniker?”

  He laughed and it felt as though warm sunlight had filled her room. Her head snapped toward him, pulled like flowers to the sun. She swallowed hard, afraid of what she was suddenly feeling for this dragon. It wasn’t right. It was a lie.

  “Cameron,” he said. “My brother likes to try to call me Cam from time to time, but I never let him get away with it.”

  He took another bite of the rolled meat. She watched his lips move until she realized she was letting herself become mesmerized. It was the lack of sex, she told herself. It was finally getting to her now that she was alone in the presence of another male. She would jump any guy’s bones after being celibate this long.

  “That was beautiful music, Cam,” she said, letting her lips twist into a wry smile. Magic wrapped around her fingers, ready to defend herself if his temper lashed out at her. She wasn’t smart for poking a dragon, but she needed to know if he was like the others. If he was like the last one.

  But, he didn’t react the way she thought. Instead, he burst with that sweet laughter once more. It made her breath catch in her throat and the magic wrapped around her fingers disappear. Her head fell to the side as she regarded him.

  “Tell me something else about yourself,” she asked, her voice making it sound more like a command.

  He didn’t bristle. Instead, his head fell against the back of the couch while he watched her, gears moving behind his eyes while he mentally dug through memories.

  “Before the Occurrence, I worked as a private detective.” He looked down, picking at the pilled fabric on the cushion. “I loved the job and the freedom it gave me from my family. It broke my heart when I was commanded to stay on the territory. I felt like someone had cut my wings. All of a sudden, I was surrounded by nothing but cranky, bossy men and I was supposed to keep my shit together to keep them from killing each other. It was more responsibility than I wanted at that age.”

  Gwen’s breath was lodged in her throat. She hadn’t expected such a raw truth to fall from his lips so easily. His eyes turned up from the cushion and captured hers.

  “Your turn,” he said.

  She swallowed. What could she tell him? That she was hated by her own people? That she was on the run from his kind?

  She sucked in a deep breath. “The card you brought back to me were made by Alphonse Mucha in his heyday. He gave them to me as a gift and they have never let me down. The other night, I had a reading that terrified me. Then, when you asked me to read your cards, I drew the same cards all over again. I think I screwed up your reading and drew for myself, instead of you.”

  “What did the cards tell you?”

  Her hand fisted in her skirt. “They told me that my ex-lover was going to kill me.” The words slipped out before she had a chance to wonder if she should tell them.

  She heard the low growl that escaped the man and her eyes flew wide. Her heart thundered in her ears. Gwen shot to her feet.

  A calm, tender hand touched her arm. His cool, green eyes looked up at her, calm and apologetic. “I’m sorry for that,” he said, softly. “That was a slip of anger on your behalf. It was not meant to scare you.”

  Had she just done that? Had she panicked? Shame ridden, she let herself fall back onto the couch.

  Chapter Six

  Cameron couldn’t believe his own behavior. When she admitted her fear, that her ex-lover would be the one to kill her, he over reacted. It wasn’t like him. He was always so calm. He was flooded with so many new emotions around her that he could barely keep himself straight. The music had helped reign in those wayward emotions until she reached out and touched him. It was only her feet, but the contact had made his beast wild.

  Then, the idea of her death at the hands of another had pushed the beast to the forefront and the growl of anger had escaped him. He should have expected her reaction, especially if she was afraid of her ex. Rumors stated that her ex was a dragon, which one he didn’t know. But, to let a dragon into her home must have been a great deal of stress on her. Garnering her trust was going to be a much harder task.

  It seemed to place a vice like grip around his heart. Here was the woman who could be his mate an
d she was terrified of him. How could he earn her trust or even feel her love when she was prepared for fight or flight at every turn?

  “Don’t be,” she said, her voice quiet. “I’m starting to understand that you’re not here to hurt me. It doesn’t mean that my instincts won’t overwhelm me from time to time.”

  Instead of pushing the subject, Cameron shared another memory. “My older brother met his mate recently. She was a dragon that GOE kidnapped and implanted with silver to convince her that she was human. The beast of a woman ripped the silver out of her own body. The two of them deserve each other. My cousin met his scrappy mate not long before that. Watching both of them know what it means to love should make me happy, but I’m not.

  “I’m incredibly jealous of what they’ve managed to find. It isn’t the best time for them to come across their mates, but now they aren’t alone in this fight. For a long time I was worried that I would never find a mate, that being bound to the Territory meant that I wouldn’t never cross her path.”

  She slowly leaned back in her seat, trying to become comfortable in his presence again as she took in his words. “How do you feel about it now?”

  Her soft, gray eyes regarded him. He wished that they could turn him inside out and he wouldn’t have to lie to her any more. He could not come out and claim this frightened creature as his mate, not as he wished he could do. If she could only see it on her own then maybe their love would stand a chance. He was so afraid that her fear of dragons would keep them from knowing happiness. He was her chance at happiness, too.

  He sucked in a deep breath, eyes distant. “Now, I’m afraid that my family will be wiped out before I can save them. Priorities, you know?”

  “Then what are you doing here?” She asked.

  In his mind, he swore. He couldn’t lead her down the right trail. He had to guide her if she was going to fight for them. But, as he regarded her, he wondered if she would be able to fight for them at all. Just his low growl had sparked a panic response inside her.

  “I’m trying to forget what is happening back home,” he said. It was kind of true. For a little while, he could lie to himself. He could say that this was not a mission put upon him by his leader. It was only him, basking in the company of his mate. The thought warmed him.

  Gwen nodded. He wouldn’t dare ask her full name. He knew that witches could do things with full names. The name gave one complete power over another and could bend them to their will, especially those with magic woven through them. Witches had been known through the centuries to be bound to kings through their full names, sold by their parents for status and wealth.

  “And you thought that I could help you forget?”

  He let his eyes rove over her body. He could certainly forget the world in the curves that she presented. He wanted to lay his head between the soft, round mounds of her breasts. He wanted to peel the gossamer and flowing fabric from her body to reveal the pale, Welsh skin that lay beneath it. She reminded him of a soft, white ice-cream with the striking taste of mint hidden behind it.

  When his eyes met her face once more, he could see the red across her cheeks and the satisfied smile that she tried to hide by pressing her lips together. It warmed him to see her happy. He leaned forward and claimed a ripe strawberry from the board, slowly dunking it into the melted chocolate. It had cooled slightly and clung to the berry with abandon.

  He didn’t pull back. Instead, he raised the berry in silent offer. Her eyes lingered on his, her lips slightly parted. It took all the effort Cameron had in him not to pull the berry away and claim her lips for himself. His breath became shallow with need.

  Her lips closed around the offered berry, plump and ready for him. His pants tightened uncomfortably around him.

  “I think you could make me forget myself entirely,” he said, his voice hoarse with need. He couldn’t hide it. He couldn’t hide it anymore.

  She laughed nervously, holding up the back of her hand to hide her berry stained lips. Slowly, so as to not frighten her, he reached to pull that hand away from her lips. His touch on her arm was feather light. His body was drawn to hers, magnetized by their bond. He leaned in, eyes on her lips.

  Gwen squeaked. It was a keening, choked sound that made Cameron snap back abruptly. He’d let his lust for her override his senses, his rationality. She was terrified of him. That was clear.

  Seducing her to fight for them was going to be impossible. It sent a crack through his heart to know that he could never love his mate. She would not trust him. It was not his fault, but the doing of another dragon. His rage had him shooting up from the couch they shared.

  Cameron paced, trying to bank the flames that were burning inside of him. They were hotter than he’d ever felt in his life. Was this what his brother felt? Cameron’s feet led him to the kitchen where he could lean against the counter with his back to her and try to control his breathing. He could barely stop the flood of violent thoughts directed at whoever had hurt his mate. It made his fingers curl into hard fists.

  What he didn’t notice was Gwen, slowly coming around the counter to face him. She looked up at him with wide eyes. He held his breath for fear of scaring her away like a young faun.

  ***

  Gwen tried to put a tight hand around the fear that churned inside her. It overpowered something she would much rather feel, unbridled lust. She wanted this man between her legs. She wanted to know the touch of his lips on hers, on her neck, or across her back. She refused to let old fear deny her what she wanted today.

  This dragon male was unlike any other she’d met before. If he wanted to forget his life in her body for a little while, she did not want to tell him no. She had an awful lot of forgetting to do, too.

  It was what helped her push herself from where she cowered on the couch. Cameron, the dragon male, had hidden himself in her kitchen to fight away his frustration on his own. She felt a small amount of guilt tumble through her. She would see how far she could get. She would try to bridge the gap between them.

  Only for the night.

  Then, she would disappear. He would never see her again.

  She rounded the corner into the kitchen and slowly approached him. He looked at her from beneath lidded eyes, unable to hide the fire burning in them, aware of her every movement.

  “Let’s try this again,” she whispered. She closed the distance between them. Her magic wrapped hand fisted in the front of his shirt, she sent a burst of it through him. A moan slipped out from between his lips and his eyelids fluttered. She smiled with satisfaction. His knees bent, dropping him to her height. “I shouldn’t be as afraid if I’m in control.”

  She pulled him to her. Her lips fell upon his, soft at first, testing the waters. She would not force herself upon him. That was not what she wanted. Her lips gently pushed at his, in case the dragon male had changed his mind and decided that he did not want her after all. The fear that he had filled her chest while their lips brushed one another.

  Then, his lips parted for her and joy soared through her heart. She pressed harder, her fisted hand yanking him into her body while her magic wrapped around his wrists and held him. He could fight it with his dragon strength and break the binding if he wished. Instead, he let her hold him down while she explored his mouth.

  He growled into her lips, his teeth nipping and reaching for whatever they can. She pulled back, teasing as she quickly licked his lips. He growled and reached for more. She was all he wanted in that moment. The dragon man allowed himself to be bound when he would have rather pounced her. That kind of abandon thrilled her. It put her at ease, allowed her to lower her lips, dragging them across stubble toward the lobe of his ear. She pulled it between her lips and suckled it while he moaned into her ear.

  The moan morphed into a growl as his body arched into hers.

  “You like that?” she whispered into his ear. Her warm breath fell over the sensitive parts.

  “More,” he growled, so unlike the man that had entered her home. Desire h
ad devoured him whole.

  She pulled back and met his eyes. His face was twisted by desire. He flexed his fists, possibly fighting the urge to break her binding. He was trying for her. Who was this dragon man she’d let into her life? Why did he make her feel so many things she’d thought impossible.

  Gwen almost felt… safe.

  She tossed aside the thought and returned to the fun they were having. Her nails pulled down his shirt and grazed over the exposed flesh. She leaned in and her lips touched the soft skin of his neck. Her teeth dragged over his skin before she pulled it into her mouth, tongue flicking and teasing.

  “Tell me what you will do when I let you go,” she whispered into his skin. “Tell me how you will please me.”

  He growled, almost as though he had to find his humanity beyond the beast in order to speak. His eyes flashed from gold to a gray-green, the sign of his beast pushing toward the front. Gwen should have been afraid, but looking into this man’s face as she held him in place, she couldn’t find her fear.

  “I am going to break these bindings,” his beast purred. “And once I do, I’m going to flip you onto your stomach so that I can take you. You are mine and I will make you scream until your magic shatters.”

  Gwen felt a shiver run up her spine, one of anticipation. Her core warmed at his words and she could feel the space between her legs moisten.

  “You won’t take any time to please me?” she asked, voice hoarse with the effort it took to find it.

  He raised molten gold eyes to hers. “Like I said, you will cry out. I will please you until you cannot take more, until you know that you are mine.”

  The beast’s words should have frightened her. It should have made her turn and run, but there was something about it that rang like a truth in her ears. She was not a witch that could separate truth from fiction like sifting for gold, but this felt too real for her to ignore.

 

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