by ML Guida
Gwen inched the chair one more time. Another loud scratch ricochet off the walls like a gong, waking the dead. Gwen’s breath iced over in her chest, her lungs squeezed tight, suddenly paralyzed, she waited for the worse.
Hera moaned and her double jerked a finger, but neither of them opened their eyes.
She exhaled softly, afraid a loud gush would be pushing her luck. The sword seemed a million miles away, but ’twas only an arm’s length away. She didn’t even know if she could cut the bindings with it, since her fingers were as useful as a club foot.
Hoping she wasn’t making another fatal mistake, she scooted the chair one more time. Instead of a scratch, the chair made a soft scuffle. Her double released a loud sigh. Hera gripped the blanket that was draped across her and turned her head the other direction.
Gwen was less than an inch from the sword. Her pinky finger could almost reach the tip of it. Just one more effort, and she’d be home free.
Suddenly, a gust of wind blew open the front door, but luckily it didn’t bang into the wall, almost as if someone caught it. Gwen frowned. Nothing else moved outside–not the dust, the purple sage brush, or wild flowers. How could the door swing open by itself?
A loud thump made her sit straighter in her chair–followed by soft footsteps. Gwen looked between Hera and her double–neither had moved.
The footsteps grew louder.
Something was coming.
She squirmed in her seat–desperately stretching her pinky finger to touch the sword. Her pinky graced the edge of the tip. The footsteps drew closer. She jerked, stabbing her finger. She winced, sharp pain throbbing in her now red pinky.
She sucked in her breath, too petrified to release the tiniest puff of air. The sword teetered precariously on the edge of the coffee table, ridiculing her inability to stop it, her heartbeat matching its unsteady rhythm. The sword dipped lower and lower and lower toward the floor, threatening to crash.
Suddenly, she inhaled the familiar scent of a flickering fire that reminded her of Theo. She wished it was him, needing to feel his strength, snug in his arms.
But he wasn’t here. He was off trying to come up with some foolish plan that could get them both killed.
She wiggled her limp fingers to shove the sword back onto the coffee table, but instead, she bumped it. The sword dove toward the floor as her heart dropped to her toes. Every muscle and nerve tightened as she waited for the loud clang to wake her kidnappers.
Inches from the floor, the sword hovered in midair, then as if by magic, it returned neatly to the coffee table without a sound. Her jaw dropped, and cold chills swooshed over her spine. She glanced over at Hera to see if she was watching her and had cast a spell, but she was curled up in the overstuffed chair like a purring cat.
Gwen gulped for air, but her lungs turned to ice as strong fingers tugged her bindings. She jerked around, but no one was there–only paintings of landscapes, a bookcase, and an adobe floor lamp.
Not sure if it was a friend or foe, Gwen waited perfectly still until the last piece of rope fell from her numb wrists. She jumped out of the chair, then seized the sword, nearly dropping it. Her fingers failed to cooperate, and she lost her grip, cursing under breath.
Once again, it hung in midair. An arm wrapped around her waist. She slammed her elbows into a hard body. Someone hissed.
“Stop, Gwen, it’s me.”
It sounded like Theo’s husky voice. A ball formed in Gwen’s dry throat. Her cheeks tweaked, and her lower lip trembled.
Stay strong.
But a tear leaked from the water dam she’d been trying deseperately to hold back. If only Theo was here…
Not trusting herself to talk, Gwen looked over her shoulder for her law-abiding dragon.
But she was only met with bitter disappointment. He wasn’t there. The witch must have cast a cruel spell, making her believe she could hear Theo’s voice and inhale his fiery scent. She’d regret torturing Gwen’s emotions.
Someone brushed against her ear, and she jerked back.
“I’m invisible,” Theo whispered. “Trust me.”
Gwen’s mind whirled in a million directions. Of all the plans, she’d thought Theo would come up with, invisibility hadn’t been one of them. Not even Leif possessed this ability or at least that she knew of. Dragon lore wasn’t her specialty.
“Nod your head if you believe me.”
Hoping she wasn’t making another mistake, she closed her eyes and nodded. In an instant, strong arms lifted her off her feet then held her against a steely body. She flew out of the house faster than her beating heart. Her vision blurred as colors danced in front of her eyes. She couldn’t breathe.
Just as fast as she was snatched, the whirlwind stopped. Theo magically appeared, his arms still wrapped around her trembling body. Neither spoke as she gathered her breath and her head stopped spinning. They were inside another similar adobe house, but this one was simply decorated with overstuffed black chairs and one oak coffee table. A large screen hung on the fireplace, but a leather jacket draped across an oak chair made her feel safe. It was Theo’s.
She inhaled a shaky breath and looked into his golden eyes. His brief touch seemed to clear some of the fuzziness in her mind.
“We’re at your place? Aren’t we?”
He placed a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Yes, we are.”
She smiled, then slid her hands over his chest, liking how he sucked in her breath at her touch. “I didn’t know you could turn invisible.”
“Neither did I.”
“Did Topper help you?”
“No, it was Queen Cosima.”
She frowned. “There’s a queen who lives in Magic?”
He shook his head. “No, she’s queen of the dragons of the planet that she wouldn’t name. She gave me a gift–a stone.”
“What kind of stone?”
“It’s called a dragon eye.”
“Can I see it?”
He reached into his front pocket and pulled out a glowing golden stone. He placed it in her outstretched palm and immediately tingles fluttered up her arm, caressing her flesh. She shuddered. Something flared in her chest, as if a veil was slowly falling from her icy heart. Warmth surged within her, then turned sweltering hot–as if her very clothes offended her now sensitive skin.
A sweltering need to feel Theo’s lips and hands on her consumed her. She licked her lips in eager anticipation and avoided his gaze. Instead, she examined the stone and realized there was a black dot in the middle of it and a jagged red around the gold. “’Tis beautiful.”
“Nothing compares to your beauty.”
His husky voice melted her last reservations of protest. She glanced up at him, knowing her desire for him was transparent–and not caring. “Bloody hell.”
“Not the words, I was looking for.” He turned the corner of his mouth up. “But yes, it’s a duplicate of my eye. According to Damon, he’s a dragon shifter from the planet, the stone only reveals its powers to its true owner–” He lowered his voice. “And when they are to be mated.”
She flashed him a seductive smile. “Meaning you and me?”
His eyes burned gold, blocking out any other color. He tilted his head and answered her with a kiss that sent her senses into a tailspin. She clung to his shoulders, not wanting to let go. He picked her up in his arms and carried her to a bedroom, which like the living room, was simple. There was an oak dresser against a wall and an inviting king size bed with a dark blue comforter. She wasn’t a virgin, but the thought of making love to a dragon shifter scared the lilies out of her. This was so not her. ’Twas Grace, but then everything exciting frightened her sister.
Gwen should be protesting or at least the doubting part of her did, but every fiber inside her rebelled against her mind, telling her to do this.
He gently laid her down on the bed, and she sank into the comforter, as if she were on a cloud. When he followed on top of her, he kissed her, sending tremors throughout her body. She b
alled her fingers into his shirt, hanging on tight, as if afraid he would leave her. She ran her leg over his muscular one, and he groaned.
“I need you,” he whispered into her ear, his breath ragged.
“And I you.”
Her body was on fire, burning, smoldering and sultry, and she felt breathless, dizzy, knowing it was madness, sheer madness to agree. She dragged his mouth back to hers, needing to taste the spiciness that grounded her. Tingles swept over her, and his very taste built up the determination that had withered inside her.
He lifted off her and tore off his shirt, buttons flying across the bed. Desire flared in his golden eyes. She laughed nervously as she admired his sculpted muscles, but she noticed a tattoo of a headdress on his bicep burned from black to a bright orange.
“Theo, does your tattoo always glow like that?”
He glanced down. “No.”
“Why is it doing that?”
“Hell, if I know.” He cast his gaze over her. “Darlin’, are you going to take your boots off?”
She lifted an eyebrow. “In a hurry, Sheriff?”
He turned his lips up into a devilish handsome smile that left little doubt he wanted her, and her skin grew hotter as if she was on fire from the inside. She lifted her shirt off impatiently, needing to feel the cool air. He gasped, but she didn’t look at him. She was too busy tearing off her shift. When she fumbled getting her boots off, he clasped her hand.
“Let me help you.”
She lifted her head, and desire blazed in her heart. Muscles bulged slightly as he slowly pulled off her trousers, and his cock was aroused. The hesitancy reared inside her, afraid he’d tear in her two, but the gentle graze of his fingers eased her doubt. Even the slightest touch had an effect on her that no man ever had.
But when his mouth followed his fingers down her thighs, she nearly lifted off the bed. All she could do was stretch out her arms as he discovered her every nerve. She balled the comforter tight in her hands. He licked and kissed down one leg then after he tossed her trousers, he gently caressed the other leg. His silky hair teased her, and she shuddered when his lips found the heat between her thighs.
Fervor and pleasure graced over her in a long sweeping blaze, deep and intense. Her heart quickened, sending blood pooling between her inner thighs. There was more and more and more arousal, and she spread her legs wider and wider, then she arched her back as her first ripple of an orgasm shifted through her like wildfire. Something flamed inside her chest and slowly grew in intensity. She’d never felt anything with so much fervor, so much ferocity, so much power that she gulped for air.
He used his wicked tongue to take her places that she’d never dreamed. The storm brewed inside, as if something was coming, something that frightened her, but she was powerless to stop.
She put her hands on his shoulders, then threaded her fingers into his thick hair, holding him, needing him to be her rock.
“Theo,” she gasped. “Something’s coming.”
His answer was to move off her wet core and plant kisses up her torso until he reached one breast. He laved it, leaving her wanting with need. He kissed and bit her budded nipple, teasing her with desire. He spread her thighs apart with his hands, then embedded himself, his flesh pushing against one trembling thigh.
The sensation swirling in her chest grew tense, sending ripples throughout her body. Every inch of her skin grew hotter, even her eyes–as if she’d looked into the sun for too long.
“Theo,” she whispered. “I–”
He left her breast and silenced any protest with his mouth. She dug her fingers into his shoulders as she shuddered again with fervor. He slightly moved his hips so his cock was pushed against her sleek curls. He was throbbing, hard, and virile.
She’d tensed, knowing with one thrust something would change. She wasn’t a virgin, but with the fluttering sensation gushing through her, she knew she’d never be the same. The meek Gwen was fading, while something else was building inside her, threatening to erupt like a volcano.
Theo lifted his hips and thrust deep inside her again and again. Fear, pleasure, and rapture seized her beating heart. He moved within her, to withdraw and thrust, withdraw and thrust with long, silky strokes that set a string of events shattering inside her. Her vision blurred, blinding her to Theo’s handsome face.
“Gwen, your eyes!”
She could only cling to him as the dizziness swept over her like a storm.
Keep going, a feminine voice whispered in Gwen’s mind. She recognized the voice she heard in the aqua whirlwind.
“Theo, don’t…stop.”
Her voice was so soft she wasn’t sure he heard.
But he returned to the same fierce rhythm that matched her own. Flesh slid against flesh–intense and raw. He drew her into another orgasm, bigger than the last. When he took her breast into his mouth, licking and lapping it, she writhed beneath him, not sure she’d survive. This was so different with him. She’d had orgasms before, but not like this, especially not making her blind with passion.
Screaming out his name, she arched her back and locked her legs around his rocking hips. Strength surged through her, conquering any weakness inside her. A feeling of fervor gripped her so hard that she shook over and over again. Her vision returned in a flash. She stared up at Theo, as if seeing him for the first time. A glistening of sweat trickled down his temples, and he panted as hard as she did, their hearts beating as one. His silky hair tickled her face. In his eyes, she saw a life she’d only dreamed about. In one single moment, she knew he was hers.
And she wasn’t afraid.
“I love you,” she said.
Her was not soft, or hesitant, but strong.
He pressed his forehead to hers, still pumping his hips, thrusting his flesh inside her. “And I you.”
Suddenly, the bedroom window burst into tiny shards of glass. Theo wrapped his arms around her, shielding her, protecting her as always.
“Don’t move!” he shouted.
Gwen wouldn’t listen and looked past his shoulder–in the corner stood her double, fear flickering in her eyes. The same female voice whispered in Gwen’s mind.
“Theo,” Gwen said softly. “Look.”
He turned around, following his gaze. “It’s…it’s…”
“My other half.” She pressed her fingers against his face. “I know what to do.”
“I don’t want to die,” her double muttered.
“You won’t,” Gwen said. “Theo?”
He looked at her then at the double, but reluctantly rolled off her. Naked and unafraid, Gwen got off the bed. Her double had pressed her back against the wall, as if frozen.
Gwen stretched out her arms. “We are one and will live together. Come to me.”
The double warily watched her, but then walked toward her. Gwen did the same. Instead of crashing into each other, they merged like the sun and the moon in an eclipse. A bright light burst around them, blinding Gwen. Tingles swept over her like fire ants running over her flesh. She’d had to have stitches once, and the same feeling of a needle going in and out of her gripped her, as if her soul was being stitched back together. She whirled around in a circle faster and faster, shaking uncontrollably.
“Gwen!”
She collapsed onto the floor. He rushed over to her, pushing her hair out of her face. He held her close, and she could feel his racing heart matching hers. They were one. The spell was broken. Her feelings of being indecisive, insecure, and imbalanced faded while her wildness, independence, and rebelliousness returned.
She smiled up at this worried face. “Theo, thanks to you, I’m whole. I’m me again.”
“Except for your eyes,” he said. “They’re no longer green, but the same color as mine.”
She kissed him hard, needing to possess him, wanting to feel his hands and mouth on her flesh again and again. She released him panting. “That’s because, dragon-boy, I’m your mate.”
Chapter Thirteen
A f
ew days later, at midnight, Theo held Gwen’s hand as they formed a circle around the gazebo. He and Gwen had been learning more about each other, and to his surprise, they’d experienced the same dream and visited Queen Cosima, who confirmed that once mated, the female’s eyes turned the color of her mate’s. He’d never even known it was possible.
Damon had reminded him of his promise not to hurt Hera. It had done some talking, but the witches’ council agreed not to do anything rash, but Hera would not escape unscathed.
All of Magic was out here, even the twins. Hera sat on the gazebo with her head held up high. The witches’ council had made their decision. He glanced at Pandora, who was on the other side of Gwen and took pity on her. Her eyes were blood-shot from crying, and by the looks of Cé’s wet shirt, it had been recently.
Topper was on the other side of him, but she didn’t look at him. Instead of wearing her usual bright-colored hair, she’d take on a somber tone, and her hair was as black as her gown. All the witches’ council had on similar black gowns, even Pandora.
“Hera, I demand you come forth,” Topper ordered.
Hera flounced out of the gazebo, tossing her red hair behind her shoulder. “Like I had a choice.”
Topper narrowed her eyes. “The council has made its decision. Do you have any last words?”
Hera folded her arms across her chest. “If I did, would it make a difference?”
“No,” Topper said softly.
Hera met each one of their condemning gazes. “Then fiddly-dee, I don’t.” She stopped at Pandora, who led out a loud sob.
Pandora was torn-up that her sister would be punished but made no move to intervene. Hera had used her magic for evil, which was condemned, and depending on the spell, could be punishable by death.
Topper looked up at the crescent moon. “By the authority invested in me, I strip you of your wand.”
A wand magically appeared in Topper’s hand. Hera moved to seize it, but as she did, it broke in half.
“No!” Hera cried, as she fell to her knees.