by S. A. Ravel
You think losing once means you can quit, Dragon? Fairy tales are for children. The rest of us have to get off our asses and find something useful to do.
It had been five years since Ronin last laid eyes on Adad, yet he could hear his mentor’s voice in his ears, as if the man himself was there. Those were dark years for him. Adad held him together, taught him everything he knew about powyr and the wyrd. His lessons always boiled down to one basic principle: get off your ass and make yourself useful.
But Ronin was a better wallower than anything else. Some hurts ran too deep to be put aside. The loss of a mate wasn’t something a dragon could shake off like a bad breakup. He never took well to that aspect of Adad’s teachings. If the white-haired, tan-skinned wizard could see his student now, he would punch Ronin in the jaw on general principle.
Mesopotamians, the ancients among the , feared no one, not even dragons.
Adad, at least the figment of him in Ronin’s mind, could bitch and moan all he wanted to. He wasn’t the one who had to sort out a cluster fuck of his own making.
Ronin rubbed his temples to keep the encroaching headache at bay. The ache wasn’t just in his head. A slow surge of blood flowed to his cock.
The Heat was on him. There was no point in denying it now. If falling in love was like getting hit by a truck, going into Heat was like getting blasted into the center of the sun. Sex on the brain around the clock. The only speck of mercy was that the cycles only happened once every few years.
Ronin had just enough blood running to his brain to know claiming Sanaa would spin the cluster fuck into epic proportions.
He took his aching stiffness in his hands, stroking it through the thin material of his pants.
There was a time when Ronin looked forward to the periodic surges of passion. Now he dreaded them. For years Ronin suffered through the cycles in solitude, avoiding women simply by nature of the fact that he avoided everyone. Over time, he learned that with enough distraction and the right combination of spells, he could ignore the beginning of the Heat completely.
Sanaa changed all that. Before her, he never considered claiming another mate. Now he couldn’t think of anything but her and the chubby-cheeked infant. His daughter, who didn’t even have a name.
She was still young. That bond hadn’t been spoiled completely. Her mother was another matter. Salvaging even a friendship from that jumble of guilt and pain would take a miracle. In Ronin’s experience, it was easier to write miracles than to create them. If he wanted to be part of his daughter’s life, pulling one out of his ass was essential.
He didn’t know where to begin. How could one truly make up for a destroying someone’s entire world because he the thought of her getting close was too intense for him to handle? Dealing with the dark walker was a start, but sooner or later, saving Sanaa wouldn’t be enough. He would have to earn her trust.
Four rooms away, Sanaa lay on her side in the King-sized bed. She stroked her daughter's cheek with one finger as the child nursed greedily from her breast. “Poor thing. You have no idea how much trouble your dumbass mother has gotten you into.”
The dragon's lair was safe enough for the moment. Sanaa wasn't stupid enough to think that her mother would sit on her ass twiddling her thumbs. She had probably already tried another wave of demons, but called them back when she realized a dragon stood in the way. Sanaa would have done the same, were she in Niabe's position.
Twenty-four hours without an attack was a small blessing, but Sanaa’s muscles wouldn’t relax. She jumped at every noise, eyes scanning the room for tiny grey monsters. Niabe was in her hiding place planning, Sanaa needed to be doing the same thing.
Sanaa's eyes flicked to the door. The dragon was somewhere on the other side of it, probably still trying to process things. Ronin hadn't spoken to her since she asked to delay his wrath. She'd been waiting for him to unleash it since the moment she revealed her secret to the Elders. But as Kane drove away, she felt the Dragon's anger rising. Too much had happened that day. She couldn’t face the Dragon’s wrath without bursting into tears. Like hell she would let him see her be weak. Even if she felt it.
It was only putting off the inevitable. She didn't feel any stronger now than when she’d walked out of the community center. Sunlight and a few hours’ sleep wouldn’t make facing Ronin’s anger any easier. But she couldn’t make herself get out of bed and find him.
"I fucked up pretty bad, baby girl," she whispered.
Her daughter let out a soft snore in response.
"Well, at least one of us gets to sleep soundly tonight." Sanaa pulled her nipple from the baby's mouth and fluffed the blankets around her.
A loud thump rang through the room. Something massive crashed into the bedroom window and shrieked in pain, a piercing sound that penetrated the glass and thick wall.
Sanaa leaned forward and covered the baby, heart pounding. The girl screamed and wailed, making her displeasure at being woken known. Not even one night. Niabe hadn't given them one night. “Dragon!”
Heavy footsteps pounded in the hallway. Ronin burst into the room. "What happened?"
Before Sanaa could answer, another heavy mass slammed into the window, shattering it.
"Shit, come on!" Ronin grabbed Sanaa's waist and slid her from the bed and onto her feet. He ushered her into the living room, clicking his tongue softly. "Stand right there."
Sanaa clutched the baby to her chest, her eyes darting around the room. "There's too much glass here. They’ll come through it.“
“They won’t get past me. If they do, this will stop them.” Ronin pulled a satchel from a trunk by the door. He sprinkled it in a circle around Sanaa, mumbling in a language she didn't understand. When he finished, he took her face in his hands and pulled her forward, claiming her lips in a searing kiss. Sanaa only had a second to enjoy the wave of pleasure that moved through her neglected body before the dragon pulled away.
His eyes blazed with fire when he looked at her. She wasn't sure if it was fury or passion. “Don’t move.“ He disappeared through the door, slamming the heavy wooden frame behind him.
Sanaa sank to her knees and rocked the baby to soothe her cries. Or maybe it was to soothe her own guilt. After all, she'd been the one stupid enough to reach out to her mother. If Sanaa had only waited a few months, a few days, she would have seen that her daughter was different. She would have realized that the infant carried the dragon's blood just as Niabe had. Ronin was fighting a horde of mega-sized hell spawn because she had gone soft-hearted.
That didn't seem fair at all.
She set her baby down and stepped out of the circle. The baby wailed as Sanaa bent over to press a kiss to her forehead. Every cell in her body wanted to pick the baby back up and cradle her small body. If she left, who would be there to protect her if the monsters broke in? Now wasn't the time for a soft heart. She had to fight if she wanted to ensure her daughter's survival.
5
All hell was breaking loose on the other side of the door. Sanaa regretted stepping outside the moment she saw the raging battle. A dozen leather-skinned hell spawn littered the path leading up to Ronin's home. At least as many more flew overhead, their screams echoing off the mountain walls. Ronin stood at the center of it all, weaving spells around him and launching them at the swirling mass.
He extended his arm at one of the man-sized bats. An arch of electricity erupted from it. The hell spawn seized violently and fell dead where it stood. Half a dozen more filled the space left behind.
“You need to change!” She screamed over the noise, pointing to the swarm.
Ronin glanced at her, rage flashing in his eyes. "Damn it, I told you to stay inside!"
She should have listened to him. Sanaa clenched her fists, willing herself not to run back into the house. The circle of powyr in the house was safe, the battlefield was anything but. Outrunning demons the size of a beer can was one thing. This hell was beyond her skill.
They were beyond the Dragon’s skill.
Sanaa stepped forward, calling for her Thunderbird and praying it didn't fail her now. Of course, it was her prayers that had drawn the Dragon's attention in the first place. None of them would be in danger if she hadn't offered herself to him.
The negative thoughts poisoned her connection to the Wyrd. The last dredges of venom still swirled in her blood with just enough potency. One of the bat demons jumped past Ronin, bearing its dripping fangs at Sanaa. She didn't have to touch the foul beasts to know their blood secreted the same poison as the guppies. Damn it, why wouldn't her imprint come!
The Dragon turned his head and extended an arm, shooting a spell through the monster's brain. Its black body shuddered. Its eyes bulged and exploded, sprinkling Sanaa's clothes with foul liquid.
"Woman, get insi–" Ronin's fervent command dissolved into a cry of pain as one of the creatures sunk a claw into his back.
The scream snapped Sanaa out of her shock. “Cover your ears!” Maybe she couldn’t shift, but she could still use some of her powyr.
She tilted her head back and screamed, releasing the piercing shriek of her Thunderbird. The sound echoed off the cavern walls, bringing every demon in its path to their knees. The Dragon clamped his hands over his still very human ears. He looked at her, eyes narrowed.
Good, let him look at her. Let him see the lighting flash in her eyes as her imprint came to the surface. She could indulge her fear and weakness later. There was a battle to be won.
Sanaa fell to her knees, bracing her hands against the paving stones. The bones in her limbs popped as they transformed, hollowing and elongating into golden wings. Surges of powyr ran through her cells as her full breasts expanded to meet her wingspan.
She slammed her talons against the walkway, loving the feel of the crumbled stone beneath her feet. She only had a second to enjoy it before the monsters began their attack again. Sanaa flapped her massive wings, as the monsters on the ground climbed to their feet.
No, you don’t, fuckers.
Sanaa launched into the air. Most of the bats followed her. On the ground, Sanaa's razor-sharp beak and claws were dangerous, in the air they were deadly. She swiped her claws across one's belly, letting its black guts fall to the walkway. The Dragon rolled away, barely avoiding a viscera shower.
It only took a few minutes for the tide to turn. With each sweep of her talons, each bolt of lightning another demon fell. But a strange sound joined the chorus of shrieks and roars. Laughter. Human laughter.
Sanaa turned her head, tilting her beak upward. There, nestled in the clouds, Sanaa saw Niabe's shadow.
Get. Away!
She shrieked at the shadow. It laughed again. The few remaining demon bats froze mid-battle and changed directions, flying into the black clouds. A retreat.
Sanaa didn't stick around to watch them leave. There was another sound in the wind, her baby's wails of fear. That sound she couldn't–wouldn't–ignore. She flew back to the ground, shifting back into her human form just above the ground.
“What the hell were you thinking?” Ronin shouted.
She ran back into the house and scooped the baby into her arms. The Dragon followed right on her heels.
"I told you to stay in the circle," he said through gritted teeth.
Sanaa bounced her daughter. "And I didn't." It wasn't a challenge, but there was an argument brewing. The dragon's mercy ran out when the demons attacked his lair. Whatever he had to say to her was coming out of his mouth in the next thirty seconds, and, like hell, was her daughter going to be there to hear it. Sanaa walked to the bedroom.
Ronin followed. “Maybe I wasn't clear before. As long as you and my daughter are under this roof, we do this my way.”
Sanaa sank her teeth into her tongue as she cleared the blankets away and set the baby on the bed. The Dragon’s fiery gaze burned into her skin. He could glare all he liked. She made soft, soothing sounds of comfort to lull the girl to sleep and hoped the Dragon got the message.
After a few moments of her silence, Ronin threw his hands in the air and stormed out of the room. The fierce roar of a dragon echoed through the air outside before receding into the distance.
Sanaa took a deep breath and closed her eyes. When the infant finally closed her eyes, she went looking for him. He sat on the living room sofa, naked, flexing his hands into fists.
Sanaa crossed her arms and looked up. If only, so she didn't have to look at Ronin's naked body. Nudity was a part of life for skinwalkers, probably for all shifters. Gaining and losing hundreds of pounds of muscle in a matter of seconds tended to destroy even the sturdiest fabric. But the dragon's naked body, with its chiseled abs and sun-kissed skin, was too distracting.
“I don't care what you say or do to me, but you won't be anything less than a smiling ray of fucking sunshine around my daughter.”
He turned to her, nostrils flaring. “You’re not giving me orders in my own house.”
Sanaa shrugged. “You’ve given me several. You can cope with one.”
The Dragon didn’t respond. He leaned forward, jaw clenched. The icy mask he wore the night before vanished before Sanaa’s eyes. The version of Ronin in front of her was a thread away from snapping, and he was about to lose his grip.
She sat on the coffee table in front of him. “You’re no good to me if you’re too pissed to form words. Whatever you have to say to me, say it.”
“I told you to stay inside for a reason. You could have gotten yourself killed. You could have gotten our daughter killed.”
“I saved your ass back there, Dragon. Dark spawn fight in swarms. One human can’t handle them all. You should have shifted.”
“And use my dragon powyr to burn my house to ashes, with my daughter and—” he shook his head and pursed his lips.
Sanaa rubbed her forehead. “It burns that hot?”
He leaned farther forward, bringing his face inches from hers. “It can melt stone.”
“Okay, no dragons this close to the house.” Sanaa climbed to her feet, raking her fingers through her hair. “If I can’t fight, I have to run.”
Ronin snorted. “She knew you came here, which means she’s tracking you somehow. Running would leave us too exposed.”
“Then stay here. Guard my back.”
“Are you out of your fucking mind? You’re not separating me from my child again.”
The words cut through her. She had no defense for them. “Look, I fucked up–"
"That doesn't begin to cover it."
Sanaa took a breath and fought to keep her temper in check. “—but so did you! And you’re not going to use that as an excuse to bulldoze over me. Niabe is my mother. Dark walkers are my people’s curse. This is my world.”
“She’s my daughter" he whispered, his gaze darkening. “And you hid her from me until it was almost too late.”
There was the guilt again. It was always there, whenever Sanaa had time to think of anything but survival. When she managed not to force it on herself, the tribe always reminded her of it.
"Clear instructions, remember?"
"Don't play games with me, Sanaa.” Ronin caught her arm in his hand. "I'm not in the mood.”
Sanaa’s breath caught. She looked down at the fingers caressing her skin. The Dragon’s eyes still burned with fury, but desire mingled with it. He protected his identity the night he came to her in human form. The loss of her sight made every touch of his hands against her skin all the more delicious. Every caress of his lips was all the more enticing. Just the memory of it was enough to make her moisten.
She pushed the arousal aside. If anyone in the world was off limits, it was the man she had already betrayed. Making the Dragon see reason was more important. ”This isn't a fight we can win on our own. Niabe has too much powyr."
Ronin pulled her closer. Her hand grazed the firm skin of his thigh. “I’m not going to bow from the knees to a bunch of old farts getting high in the desert. I haven’t done anything to be ashamed of.”
The hesitati
on caught her attention. The closeness of their bodies made it impossible to focus. Sanaa let her eyes roam over Ronin's body. She tried to breathe, to focus on the situation at hand. But the vibes emanating from him made it impossible. His eyes followed every movement, every breath, like a wolf stalking its prey. Her skin burned under his gaze, but she wouldn’t let herself shy away from it.
Ronin moved forward with such speed that Sanaa's eyes lost track of him. He wrapped his arms around her waist and leaned forward. His full lips grazed hers. She fought the urge to melt against him, let the warmth of his body drive everything else away. It was the first hint of affection from an adult since….
“Then why did you banish me?”
His chest heaved when he pulled away. “I had my reasons. You’re here now. Our daughter is here. A dragon doesn’t run away from a blood-sucking bitch.”
Ronin climbed to his feet and stormed out of the house.
The Dragon was already up when Sanaa left the bedroom the next morning. He had been busy. A full breakfast of toast, crisp bacon, and fried potatoes lay spread on the kitchen table. Their daughter sat in a donut pillow in the center of it all, her chocolate brown eyes locked on the Dragon as he wiggled her feet with his hands. There was no sign of the fury from the night before in his body language.
“Did I oversleep?” Sanaa asked.
“It’s still early. Little miss and I here were just getting acquainted,” he said. “You need to eat and we need to talk.”
She opened her mouth to object. Instead, her stomach growled. Ronin quirked an eyebrow.
Sanaa rolled her eyes. "Don't say it."
Ronin shrugged. "I don't need to."
She sat down at the table, pulling a plate of fried potatoes over and grabbing a fork. One buttery wedge of the starchy goodness was halfway to Sanaa's mouth when the dragon spoke again.