Max lit one of his black-rolled cigarettes, inhaled deeply, and blew out with a squint of his eyes, making his blue eyes appear darker.
“Definitely a woman. Do I know her?”
“Why does it have to be a woman? You’re as bad as Moira.”
He laughed, holding his cigarette aloft between thumb and middle finger. “Because you never lose control, my friend. Ever.”
“I’m in perfect control.” I tipped my glass in the air and took another swig. I’d been drinking too much lately.
“Mm-hm. Perfect.” He flicked a tip of ash in the tray on the bar. “So tell me why we’re here. What’s your concern with the parliament hearing?”
I pushed my empty glass onto the bar and waved off the bartender who was about to make his way back to us.
“I had a visit from Aron Grayson.”
Max sucked another drag from his cigarette, eyes narrowed in concentration. “Interesting. And what did that bastard have to say?”
“Not much.”
I paused as two rough-looking men passed staring at me. Even though I’d left my jacket and tie in the car, I was obviously overdressed for Docker’s Pub. But what I loved most about this dive that was Max’s second home was the fact no one asked questions.
“But he made a threat,” I added.
“Did he now? I’ll be happy to pay him a visit for you.”
I tapped my glass with my index finger. “It won’t do any good. But I wanted you to know.”
“What was the nature of this threat exactly?”
“Exactly?” I scoffed. “He made a point to say that he wasn’t threatening anyone.”
“Of course, he did.”
“But he mentioned my sister and her son. And also Shakara Icewing.” My entire body tensed when her name rolled off my lips. The mere thought of her. I closed my eyes as I remembered her soft words in the dark atop that roof. It was like she’d cut a piece of my heart out and stolen it from me against my will. How could one kiss make me this obsessed? I was losing my mind.
“Man, are you okay?”
When I opened my eyes, I realized I held my head in both my hands, elbows on the bar. “Yeah. Fine.”
“So it’s this Icewing chick who’s got your balls in a vise, is it?”
“What?”
He blew out a breath of smoke and put out the cigarette in the tray. Chuckling to himself, he shook his head. “Damn, bro. Leave it to a Morgon woman to get you tied up in knots.”
“I didn’t—” I stopped myself and heaved out a sigh.
Max tilted back his glass and then set it back on the bar empty. “You’ve got it bad. Real bad. Don’t you?”
With a stiff nod, I pulled out my wallet and set a large bill on the bar. “Drinks are on me, friend. Keep your guys vigilant, will you?”
“Always.”
* * *
I set the tray with two cups of hot mint tea on the terrace table.
“Thank you, Shakara,” said my aunt, picking up a saucer and cup and placing it in her lap.
The Morgon hotel on the north side of Gladium where she and my father were staying had a lovely view of the Feygreir Mountains where the Icewing clan nestled in a sprawling village. I’d never known prejudice among my kind, but then they weren’t exposed to humans there. I was reminded of Demetrius’s question. What would my clan think of us? Of me with a human?
“What is bothering you, my dear?”
“Hmm?”
Aunt Asheera gazed at me with those all-seeing aqua eyes. Her long white hair hung in braids at her temples, a wrinkled brow raised in question, awaiting my answer. “There is something on your mind. Or perhaps someone on your heart.” She nodded at my chest where I clutched a fist. “Tell me what you are feeling.”
Not realizing what I’d been doing, I pulled my fist into my lap. The pain I’d felt since that night on the rooftop of Spire Maiden with Demetrius had not gone away. It was a strange tightening and loosening, like a spindle unwinding then winding again. It had made its presence known slowly, since that day at the park with Jessen, Julian, and Demetrius. Hoping it would disappear as some strange ailment of the mind, I hadn’t told a soul. An aching in my body seemed to worsen in the presence of Demetrius. I didn’t know why. I wanted to know, and yet I didn’t, afraid of what I would find.
Watching gray clouds gather in the distance, I lifted my cup and saucer from the table to have something to do with my hands. “I’m afraid to tell you.”
She laughed and sipped her tea. “Why? Because a human man has captured your heart?”
My tea cup clinked in the saucer when my fingers slipped. I’d finally admitted to myself the desire I felt was nothing more than an infatuation. But when my every waking moment became filled with longing for his dark eyes and deep voice, I knew it was more. There was no denying it, even to myself.
“How—how could you know that?” My Aunt Asheera was remarkable in many ways, but she wasn’t a seer.
“Tell me what hurts you, my dear. Physically.”
“It’s nothing. Just a slight strain of some kind. I think I overexerted myself.”
“Hmph. If you will not tell me, then I will tell you.” She placed her tea on the glass-top table and leaned toward me on the sofa. “Does it feel like the prickling of needles in your left chest cavity? Is there a constriction that feels as if you can’t breathe? A winding of the clock, drawing you tight? Perhaps even a sharp sting from time to time.”
My pulse pounded at her precise diagnoses. “Yes.”
“It comes and goes, doesn’t it?”
“Yes.” Tears pooled in my eyes. “Do you know what it is? What I have?”
She took my tea and set it on the table, then pulled both my hands into her lap. “Close your eyes, dear,” she said as she closed her own.
I did, trusting her to seek out and find the ailment. I floated in that lovely place where my Aunt Asheera connected with my psyche and body. She was the only healer I’d ever allowed to treat me, to make the Icewing connection. She wasn’t invasive as she explored. Rather the opposite, she touched gently like a nurturing caress. I practiced the art frequently, but I doubt I’d ever be as skillful as she. Finally, she broke the connection with a soft snap, electricity vibrating in the air as she still held my hands in her lap.
I opened my eyes to find her assessing gaze on me.
“Do you know what it is? Is it terminal?”
“Aye. I’m afraid it is.”
Oh, heavens. It must be as I thought, some malignancy rooted inside me. “Go on. Tell me.”
She smiled, an unexpected response to whatever my dire illness was. “You’ve found your mate, Shakara. And he is human.”
“What?” My chest rose and fell more quickly. “What are you talking about?”
“Shakara. Have you recently been seeing a man? Not a Morgon man?”
“Yes.” There was no point in lying, not that I wanted to anyway. My aunt was an open-minded, compassionate person. Still, there was no one in my family who had taken a human mate.
“If what you’re telling me is true, this pain you suffer is the ache to heartbond with him.”
“How can that be?” I shook my head. “Morgon women do not contain soulfire.”
Soulfire burned within every Morgon male when he found his mate. When she accepted him, the burn would transform to an erotic elixir, binding their hearts and syncing their lives as one.
“No. They do not. But every woman experiences the binding of the heartstrings when she is mated to a Morgon man.”
“But I—”
She squeezed my hands and gave me a shake of her head. “Listen.”
Confused, I held my tongue.
“It is the dragon in us, you see. The dragon always knows his or her mate. For Morgon men, they discover it first through soulfire. For Morgon women, it is different. And for Morgon women whose dragon has chosen a human mate, it is different entirely than what other Morgons experience.” Her bright eyes lit with tenderness.
“It happens rarely. I’ve only known one other in my lifetime. But it does happen. And it appears that it has happened to you. What you’re feeling, the physical sensation here.” She placed a hand on my chest, fingers splayed. “It is the pull of the dragon heartstring.”
“Heartstring?”
“When a Morgon binds with his or her mate, there is an interlocking of their hearts. You know of this.”
“Yes,” I whispered.
“When a Morgon feels the pull in her chest, it is her own heartstring yearning for her mate. Most Morgon women do not feel this until the time of heartbonding. You feel it now because your dragon is in earnest.”
Unable to stop the well of emotion, a tear rolled down my cheek. I wiped it away with the back of my hand and sniffed. “So what happens now?”
“It’s quite simple. You decide whether you want your mate or not. No different than any other couple who is given this choice.”
“No different?” I stood abruptly. As I walked to the terrace ledge, I wrapped my arms around my torso. “It’s vastly different. I’ve never known a Morgon woman to mate with a human.”
Aunt Asheera walked over and stood next to me with an arm around my waist. The drift of storm clouds had thickened and drew closer, moving along the edge of the city.
“But you have friends who are intermarried. Jessen and Lucius Nightwing.”
“Yes. But Morgon men may do as they like.”
“Oh? And who’s to say Morgon women may not do the same? Do we not have our own minds and hearts as strong as men? Hmph. I’d say stronger.”
I gazed down at her. She wasn’t quite as tall as me. “Aunt Asheera. You know that we won’t be accepted. Others will condemn us.”
“Yes. Some will.” She smiled. “And some won’t. Now, you have a decision to make.”
“What decision?”
“Is he worth it?”
“Of course, he is. But…” I blew out a heavy sigh. “Why did I have to fall in love with a human? And why did my dragon set on him? It’s all so difficult. And feels so unfair.”
“Aye.” She gave my waist a tight squeeze. “The most important decisions in life always are.”
Inhaling and exhaling a deep breath, I watched the clouds roll slowly in, the smell of rain on the wind.
“You said you knew of a Morgon woman with a human mate. Who was it?”
She was silent for a moment, then said, “My sister.”
I gawked. “Aunt Adelaide?”
“Yes.”
“But she lives alone. In Singing Wind Wood.”
“She does live there, but not alone.”
Reality dawned slowly. “I see. She feared the clan would reject her so she kept him a secret.”
“She did. But so did her mate. Macon is a good man. He didn’t want my sister to be ostracized from other healers. She told my parents she chose to live alone in the woods and be the healer for those in Farrow’s Dell since there were no healers in residence there.”
“But she told you the truth?”
“Yes. She used to curl her hand into a fist and press it to her chest, just as you do now.”
I glanced down to see myself doing it again. Thunder rumbled. Morgons winged down from the sky to the residential tower across from the hotel to find shelter from the storm.
“Why do people hate those different from themselves? I’ve never understood it.”
“My dear, you cannot speak of the entire population in such a way. For it is not true for everyone. But hear this. As long as people possess the power to think freely, there will be hatred and prejudice in this world.” She lifted a hand under my chin and guided my gaze toward hers. “Just as there will always be love and compassion. All we can do is choose who we will be and what we believe.”
She smiled tenderly and patted my cheek as she did when I was a child. “Now let us get indoors. That storm is coming fast.”
Chapter 9
Rain poured down outside the clinic while I alphabetized new files. As much as I loved my Aunt Asheera, I had to get away from her and clear my head. She’d faced me with an unwelcome reality.
Demetrius Cade was my mate.
I could hardly wrap my mind around it. And yet I knew she was right. The dragon always knew. And mine wanted to claw right out of my chest and snatch him every time he came close to me. He made me want like I never had before. I’d had other lovers. And it was always a gentle, pleasant coupling. That isn’t what I wanted with Demetrius. I wanted to lay myself bare, to do anything for him. Anything to get his hands on my body, his mouth on my skin. To get him inside of me.
Any misgivings I had about him before simply melted away when confronted with this new reality. My dragon would only choose the best man to be my mate.
Is he worth it?
Of course he was. I would take him despite the scorn we might have to endure from the haters of the world. I’d take him if every person we knew exiled us from their lives.
But he was Demetrius Cade. Heir to the Cade empire. Son of the corporate king of Gladium who was known to despise Morgonkind. It was highly unlikely Demetrius would make the same sacrifice for me.
When I slammed one file down too hard, the papers slipped out the side and onto the floor. “Damn it!”
I let out a frustrated sigh, went around the counter, and knelt to pick up the papers. The door opened and closed on a rumble of thunder. I looked up to find the man on my mind standing there in the flesh, drenched from the rain that had soaked through his white button-down now clinging to his broad chest. He said nothing. Just stood there in the doorway, staring down at me, dark eyes hooded in shadow.
I stood, leaving the papers on the floor. The air charged with electricity as my dragon amped up my heartrate and adrenaline to a steady thrumming through my veins.
He turned his head over one shoulder and flicked off the lights. “Working late?” He bolted the door.
My pulse pounded faster. “I needed to come into the office.”
He closed the blinds on the left side of the door. “Why?” He closed the ones on the right.
“Because I needed to do something. Keep my mind busy.”
He turned and stalked toward me. “What was on your mind?”
I backed up till my bum hit the desk. I gripped the edge. “You know what was on my mind.”
He stood inches before me, rain dripping from his black locks. “Say it, Shakara.”
With his scowl in place and jaw clenched tight, he waited. I lifted one hand and traced his lips with the tip of my finger, rain water sliding down my finger to the underside of my wrist. I shivered. He opened his mouth, so I slipped my finger inside. He bit down on the tip and sucked.
I gasped and pulled my finger away, then cupped his square jaw. “You, Demetrius. You’re invading my every thought. I have no peace. None but when you are near me.”
Wrapping my nape in a tight grip, he ground out, almost angrily, “This is not peace. This is torture.”
“Then do what you must and end it.”
He crushed his mouth against mine, untucked my blouse from my jeans, and broke the kiss only long enough to pull it up over my head. I gripped the collar of his shirt and ripped down the center, popping every button as I peeled the shirt from his wet skin while he unclasped my bra. I trailed kisses down the corded muscle of his throat to his chest. I grazed his nipple with my teeth.
He growled, sweeping every damn thing off the desk—papers, pens, a stapler clattered to the floor. Pressing flat with my wings stretched out, I spread lengthwise along the surface. He held my gaze as he unzipped my jeans and yanked them off along with my panties. I reached over my head and gripped the top edge of the desk to hold on.
My man had a beast of his own, and I’d unleashed him.
His stern expression darkened as he swept his gaze from my upraised arms down over my breasts and lower still. Leaning forward, the wet strands of his dark locks grazing my neck and breasts, he licked a line around one nipple then sucked t
he nub into his mouth. I arched upward on a moan as he teased with teeth then nipped his way to my other breast. I squirmed, but he gripped my waist and kept me still as he trailed his mouth lower.
“Demetrius…you can’t,” I whispered, trying to move.
He caught my gaze, dark eyes hungry. “I will.”
Then he opened his mouth on my sex, licking and sucking me into madness. Whimpering, I rocked against his mouth. Feeling loose and wild, I loved every dirty second of it.
“Oh, God!” I screamed, undulating my hips when a violent orgasm ripped through me.
He groaned and licked me as I came down, then pressed a biting kiss to my inner thigh before he stood.
Still holding onto the desk, I watched his hands as he unbuckled his pants and dropped them, then shoved his underwear down his muscular thighs and gripped his cock, large and stiff.
“Wider, Shakara,” he commanded, stroking himself and making me hotter.
I obeyed more than willingly. He stopped stroking to grab my hips and pull me to the edge. With one hand, he pushed his cock inside me. Slowly.
“Ah!” I cried out as the overwhelming sensation made me want to inch away. I tried to.
He held me hard with both hands on my hips, his thumbs pressing along my pelvic bone, squeezing tight. “No.” He shook his head. “No getting away from me.”
I closed my eyes and let him take me hard in the dark as thunder rolled and rattled the window panes. A storm of our own crashed over us both, shaking us with trembling energy and pouring over us with sweat and sighs.
Then I felt it. The pinching sting, like the twining of threads overlapping and encasing my heart. Breathless from Demetrius thrusting deep inside me and from the pain within my breast, I reached up with both arms, needing him close. He knew and pressed his body to mine, our torsos aligning, his mouth covering mine. I locked my ankles at his back.
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