Dragon's Rogue

by Anastasia Wilde

  “Once up on a time,” he said, the dimple flashing in his cheek again, “all the worlds were ruled by the Elder Draken. They were ancient and strong, with magical powers beyond what you or I can imagine. The greatest and most fearsome of these were the First Ones, the Draken Lords, huge and terrifying, powerful and cruel and selfish. Their fiery breath could burn whole mountains to ash, and their wars carved great chasms in the land.”

  It sounded like a typical creation myth, but there was a ring of truth in Zane’s voice. As far as he was concerned, this wasn’t myth. It was real. Blaze settled back on the couch, her hand still in Zane’s.

  “As time went on, humans and shifters became more numerous and powerful, and they grew tired of living in terror of the Draken Lords. So they called together all the Draken and sorcerers and shifters with the strongest magic. They realized it was impossible for them to kill the Draken Lords, so they did the next best thing.

  “They went to war on the Draken Lords, one after the other, and imprisoned them deep in the earth, caged with magic. The Draken Lords fought and raged, the earth heaving and cracking underneath them. Mountains rose up above them, mountains with their roots forever on fire.”

  “Volcanoes,” Blaze breathed, caught up in the story. Then common sense reasserted itself. “You’re trying to tell me that volcanoes are actually imprisoned Draken Lords?”

  Zane nodded. “Some are, anyway. With terrible magics that took hundreds of Draken and sorcerers and shifters, they subdued the Draken Lords in their tombs, lulling them into a deep sleep. Many of the allies died in the attempt, but in the end, the Draken Lords were all vanquished. The allies forged magical Seals of immense power to keep the Draken Lords from waking, and to keep their prisons locked. For if they ever wake up and break free, they will destroy humankind and shifters, and everything they’ve built.”

  Blaze felt a shiver go down her spine. Still, it couldn’t be true. Could it? “But… volcanoes are studied and monitored by scientists all over the world. Wouldn’t they, umm, notice the giant dragons?”

  “Do scientists notice all the other magic all around them? You’re a witch. You could walk down the street with a cloaking spell, and no one would see you.”

  “Yeah, but dragons are…”

  “Different?”

  “I was going to say—big. Really, really big.”

  “Yeah,” Zane said. “As it happens, the only way to create the powerful magic of the Draken Lords’ tombs was to position them at a nexus between this world and the Dragonlands, where all worlds began. They’re still there—the ones where the Seals haven’t been broken. Or stolen.” He wound his fingers through hers. “If the Seals are missing, the magic weakens and the Draken Lord eventually breaks free. Not a thing we want to have happen. They have to be found and put back.”

  Whoa. “Are you trying to tell me you’re hunting for the Seals to a Draken Lord’s tomb?”

  Zane nodded.

  “That’s…”

  “Unbelievable?” he asked. His tone was dry.

  Well, he’d told her she wouldn’t believe it. But still… “Even if the story is true, who would be stupid enough to remove the Seals from something like that? And if he’s not sealed in, why hasn’t this Draken God woken up?”

  Zane shook his head. “How the Seals were lost is a longer story, and Tyr tells it better than I do.” He shook his head, rolling his eyes a little. “Tyr loves to tell it, as a matter of fact. But they were taken from the tomb, centuries ago. The magic has been weakening ever since. And as for why he’s waking up now… we’re not sure. But all the signs show that he’s about to.” Zane paused. “In fact, Thorne calculates it’s going to happen in the next three months.”

  Blaze gasped. “Are you telling me you have evidence that a major volcano is going to erupt in the next three months? Where?”

  “No, I’m telling you a Draken Lord is going to erupt. A sentient creature who breathes fire that burns like jet fuel and eats humans for breakfast. And as to where…” He waved his hand in the general direction of Portland. “Here. Mount Hood.”

  Here? Out of the lone peak that dominated the view of Portland, the long-dormant volcano of Mount Hood? But… scientists would register the volcanic activity, wouldn’t they? She blew her breath out shakily. “That can’t be possible. Wouldn’t the scientists watching the volcano see the activity, even if they can’t see the Draken?”

  Zane shook his head. “They see some of it. Not all. But Thorne’s equipment is electronic and magical. It makes theirs look like Tinkertoys. Believe me, the threat is real.”

  She stared at him. “You’re really serious.”

  “I’m not just serious. I’m fucking terrified. If we can’t find the seals for Vyrkos’ tomb and seal him back in, he’ll blow that mountain to bits. Not only that, but he’ll be hungry and pissed off. And the approximately two million people in the Portland metro area will barely be enough to take the edge off.”

  Blaze stared into space, trying to wrap her head around what she’d just heard. Zane was completely serious; she could hear it in his voice. He’d been right the first time—this was almost impossible to believe.

  “Who else knows about this?”

  “Just me and my brothers.”

  Whoa. Here she was worrying about the idol, when everything within miles could potentially be wiped out. “But if there are these Draken Lords all over the world, why haven’t any broken out before?”

  “They have,” Zane said. “Pompeii. Krakatoa. A few others.” He paused. “Mount St. Helen’s.”

  The 1980 Mount St. Helen’s eruption was a Draken Lord? “Hold on,” she said. “This doesn’t make any sense. Only about fifty people were killed in that eruption. She winced as she said it. As if fifty lives were nothing. But compared to millions… “And Seattle is still standing. So… why weren’t more people killed? What happened to the Draken Lord? Because he’s not flying around, destroying the world.”

  Zane said, “When the Draken made their agreement with the Shifter Council and left this world a thousand years ago, part of the deal was that they left Guardians behind. Powerful Draken to monitor the tombs and to make sure the Draken Lords didn’t escape—and if they did, to banish them out of this world while they were still weak from imprisonment, before they could destroy everything in their path. That’s what happened before, with the other Draken Lords. The Guardians won.” He took a deep breath. “But there aren’t any Guardians left now.”

  “And what happened to them?” But she already knew the answer from his face.

  “They’re all dead,” Zane said. “The last of them managed to contain the destruction at Mount St. Helen’s and banish the Draken Lord Zavrek from this realm of existence. And every single one of them gave their lives to make it happen.”

  That was enough to make your blood run cold. “So you and your brothers just… took over?”

  “Someone had to,” he said. “But we don’t have anything close to the power needed to banish a Draken Lord. That’s why we have to find the Seals, and put them back in the tomb. We have to keep Vyrkos from breaking free in the first place, or within three months everything from here to the coast is going to be destroyed.”

  Chapter 22

  Blaze tried to swallow back the dread. “What can I do?” she asked. “Can I help you look for the Seals? I have contacts—”

  He smiled tiredly at her. “Sure,” he said. “That would help.”

  She gazed at him. “But it’s not enough.”

  He blew out a sigh. “It has to be. There’s a prophecy Tyr found buried among the Guardians’ archives, saying that in a time of great danger, the Seals will be found. We just have to keep believing it’s true—that if we don’t give up, we’ll find them in time.”

  She tightened her hand around his. “I’ll help.”

  He nodded, but she could still sense the disappointment in him. She wished with everything in her that her dragonfly had been the Seal.

  She asked, �
��So… if you’re not Guardians, why are you doing this?”

  He shrugged. “Someone has to.”

  Despite his casual tone, she saw pain flicker across his face. There were still things he was keeping from her. “So, three months, huh?”

  “Approximately.”

  “That’s not much time.”

  “No, it’s not,” he agreed. “We thought the Dragonfly of Morocco might be the Dragonfly Seal, and if it was, we needed it now. Thus the breaking and entering of your house.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “Yeah. You said you weren’t sorry about that.”

  “I’m not. If it meant that we could keep Vyrkos from busting out of Mount Hood and killing a couple million people, I’d commit bigger crimes than that.”

  Blaze understood that. She’d trained with dark sorcerers, learned spells she hoped to never have to use. Anything to keep Silas from taking the idol back.

  “And I’m not sorry for the other reason, too. Because the search brought me to you.” He ran his finger lightly up the inside her forearm. Her skin quivered at his touch. “The woman of my dreams.”

  Blaze started losing her breath again. “The woman from your dreams,” she managed. “There’s a difference.”

  “Not to me.” He ran his finger up her forearm again, watching her reaction. “Especially if you knew what I dreamed about.”

  She did know what he dreamed about. She’d seen it in her mind when he kissed her. And it was hot.

  “They were dreams,” she said breathlessly. “You don’t know anything about me.”

  But that was a lie. She felt like they did know each other. The way his eyes seemed both familiar and strange, and the look of desire and longing in them did too. Like she’d seen that look so many times, and it still felt new every time, still could pull the breath from her lungs and make her pulse pound.

  The way he felt dangerous, and yet safe. The way she yearned to relax in his warmth and let him hold and protect her.

  “No?” he said. His voice was soft, his fingers warm as they stroked her arm. “I know how your eyes look when you’re happy, and the way they look when you’re sad. I know how your face lights up with joy when you smile from your heart.”

  His fingers skimmed her face, the ghost of a touch. “Someday, I want to see that smile for real. I want to see the joy in your face.”

  He touched her lips, gently. “I know the sound of your laughter, the touch of your hand, the warmth of your skin.”

  He slid closer to her, and moved his hand slowly to the hollow of her right shoulder. “You have a beauty mark right… there.”

  He touched it on the outside of her shirt, and still she shivered as if he were touching bare skin. Slowly, he slid the scoop neck of her t-shirt away, exposing her shoulder. He smiled when he saw the mole right where he’d said it would be, where he couldn’t possibly know it was.

  He bent his head and kissed it. His lips were soft and warm and sent little flames across her collarbone and down into her belly.

  Memories of a hundred more kisses tumbled through her mind, and her stomach fluttered. This was impossible. He couldn’t know her from his dreams.

  But somehow he did.

  “And you have another beauty mark… here.”

  This time, the fingers of his left hand moved to her belly, a few inches above her left hip. He slid his fingers across the hem of her t-shirt, grazing the skin between it and the top of her low-slung jeans. Blaze closed her eyes, reveling in the heat of his touch, holding her breath, waiting for more.

  He slid his fingers an inch higher, raising the hem of her shirt until her other mole was exposed.

  He slid off the couch onto his knees and dipped his head, kissing that place softly as well. Blaze melted, her hands sliding across his shoulders to cradle the back of his head.

  The touch of his lips was like a drug. Her whole body yearned for him, like a flower turning toward the sun. He continued to kiss her belly, lips feather-light, fingers skimming the top of her jeans.

  Blaze heard herself make a soft sound of surrender. She’d been strong for so long; she’d been alone for so long. Holding everyone at arm’s length, not daring to get close to anyone.

  She couldn’t trust anyone, and she couldn’t bring them into her realm of danger.

  No one could understand what she was going through, what it meant to have a mission like hers.

  No one, maybe, but this man. Like her, he’d dedicated himself to something that wasn’t really his fight. To doing what was right, even if it cost him everything.

  And she hadn’t been able to help. Sadness swept through her, and she slid her fingers through his hair, stroking, pulling him closer.

  She knew what it was like to feel lonely, and terrified, and helpless. And to keep fighting anyway.

  Zane pulled her to him, so that he was kneeling and she was sitting on the couch, straddling his hips. He slid his hands under the hem of her t-shirt, raising it slightly, his eyes meeting hers, asking the question. She raised her hands to let him take it off her. His face relaxed into a smile, and he pulled it up and tossed it aside, the smile deepening when her hair cascaded down her back.

  “I’ve always loved your hair,” he murmured into her ear, holding her against him and twining his fingers through it. “It’s even more beautiful than I dreamed.”

  It was so strange, that he had memories she didn’t have. But somehow it made her trust him. It was as if her body remembered his touch, even if her mind didn’t.

  His lips touched her collarbone, the hollow of her neck, the sensitive place under her ear. Then they found hers, and she opened to him, loving the way he tasted, the way he felt, the way his scent filled her until she wanted to crawl inside his skin.

  He unhooked her bra and tossed that aside, giving a low growl of pleasure when her breasts fell free. He cupped them in his warm hands, kissing first one and then the other, over and over, like he couldn’t get enough. Her nipples were hard and sensitive, and heat pooled between her legs.

  Somehow his shirt had disappeared without her touching it, and his chest was warm under her hands. He made tiny sexy pleasure noises when she ran her hands over his muscular shoulders, dropped one to his washboard abs.

  He had narrowed his focus to one breast, licking and sucking, pulling gently on her nipple with his teeth as he palmed the other, skimming over the sensitive skin, teasing it gently.

  Blaze arched back to let him play with her breasts. Zane snaked one arm around her and pulled her hips closer, her stomach against his taut abs, his hot, hard shaft straining through his jeans, tight against her core.

  Oh, god. Blaze moaned, lost in the feel of him. His mouth still sucked at her nipple, stroking it with his tongue, rolling his hips in rhythm. She spread her legs further and rocked against him, gasping when his thick cock hit her in the perfect spot.

  One of his hands had slid down the back of her jeans, inside her panties to her bare ass. He pulled her closer with a growl, capturing her lips again and rolling his hips, hitting her sweet spot over and over again.

  Blaze felt like she’d caught fire. “I want to touch you,” she murmured, reaching for the front of his jeans. “I want you to touch me.”

  A grin curved his lips, and his pants were just suddenly… gone.

  Holy fuck. Best. Magic. Ever.

  “Mine too,” she panted.

  Her jeans and underwear melted away, and then his fingers were between her legs, stroking and teasing. Blaze couldn’t remember ever being so wet, so wanting.

  His skin was like a heat lamp, stoking her inner flames. She leaned back, trusting him to support her, forgetting everything but the intense pleasure of his touch.

  His finger circled her clit, light and teasing, before he moved down to her entrance and slid his fingers inside, then went back to her tease clit again. Blaze’s searching hand found Zane’s cock and wrapped around it, stroking, matching his rhythm, sliding her thumb over the head on each stroke, slick with his
own wetness.

  Zane groaned out loud.

  “You are so beautiful,” he said. He kissed her lips, letting his teeth scrape over her lower lip before letting it go. “Look how beautiful you are.”

  He pulled back to watch the two of them stroking each other, her thighs spread open to him, her head thrown back as her fingers dug into his shoulders. Every nerve was throbbing, coiling tight with tension, wanting, needing.

  Blaze felt the wave of sensation building, hot and wild, and she felt like she would burst into flames and rise from the ashes like a phoenix, completely different than she’d been before. There was no stopping, no going back, nothing but sheer desire and the need to cradle him inside her, to take on part of his loneliness and burden and sadness.

  “Now,” she whispered.

  He moved his hands to her hips and slid inside her. He was huge, so hard, and yet he fit inside her as if they’d been made for each other. Blaze wrapped her legs around him, and he pulled back and thrust into her. Again and again, hitting her sweet spots perfectly, each thrust strong and pure and piling flame upon flame, light upon light, until Blaze felt like she was glowing.

  Surrounding her, she heard a faint humming, like a harmonic chord. Something shifted inside her, matching the sound, creating a harmony that vibrated through her, through Zane, through everything in the room.

  It built and built, until the sound shattered her like crystal, cracking open her soul and letting the light and sound pour in.

  Blaze exploded like a supernova, light flaring out in all directions. Zane still filled her, still moving, faster and faster, climaxes rolling through her, taking her ever higher until all she could do was hold on let them take her away on a sea of bliss, never wanting to come back.

  She felt Zane shudder and heard him cry out, and with one final thrust he gathered her to him and held her close, his head buried in the crook of her neck as he shuddered with release.