by C. I. Black
A gruff voice growled something, but she couldn’t make out the words. He sounded angry… and so very familiar. It wasn’t Grey, but she couldn’t explain how she knew it wasn’t him.
The gruff voice said something else and a hint of a memory flickered, revealing Tobias, glaring at her—
Except he wasn’t glaring down at her, like he usually did. They were eye to eye.
Behind him, more fire melted away, exposing smooth stone walls. Tobias stood across the room from her, with the Handmaiden’s chair and table centered between them, in the middle of the outer room in her chambers at Court. He opened a door — was that the door to the hall? — and tensed.
Ivy — a remembered Ivy — stood framed in the doorway. Small, still — gloriously still — her eyes large, and her green aura a pale thin glow radiating around her body, indicating she was a young drake. Everything snapped into crystalline focus, the lock of her hair that curled along her jaw and accentuated her neck and her pulse fluttering too fast.
Beyond all that was an overwhelming stillness— her stillness. It filled her— no, it filled Grey. This was his memory. He’d never experienced anything like that stillness before. It called to him, his soul, every fiber of his being. It righted a darkened and tipsy world she— he knew was broken but had no idea how to fix. Not even the Handmaiden had created such clarity, such peace, with her magic.
“The Handmaiden’s man was just leaving,” Tobias growled to the Ivy standing in the doorway.
“Yeah,” she— Grey said, unable to take his eyes from her.
A phone rang. And still Grey’s gaze remained locked on her as if she were a lifeline he’d known he’d needed but hadn’t expected to ever get.
“I’ve got to go,” Tobias said.
“Is it this?” Grey managed to ask. Mother, it was so hard to concentrate and yet nothing had been so clear before.
“No.”
“It that good or bad?”
“Is anything good right now?” Tobias glared at the Ivy in the doorway. “Do your job. Grey isn’t staying.” Except Mother, he wanted to stay—
No, he had to stay.
The Ivy in the doorway watched Tobias leave, but Grey continued to stare at her. In that moment nothing mattered, not even the ransacked chamber behind him. He had to step closer, feel her aura sliding against his, never leave her radius of clarity.
Except she was Tobias’s agent. No matter what every cell in his body screamed, being near her was dangerous for both of them.
He should go. Leave… move… Just. Start. Walking.
But he couldn’t make himself step away from her stillness and he’d be damned if he let himself move closer — something he’d have to do if she wasn’t going to step out of the door, the only way out.
Maybe if he said something she’d come closer—
No, damn it. Maybe if he said something she’d get out of the way so he could leave.
His throat tightened at the idea.
Come on. He was a stronger drake than this.
He cleared his throat, and she turned and stared at him with her sharp, still — oh, so still — dark gaze.
His heart stuttered. His whole soul stuttered. He yearned to fall into her mesmerizing calm and remain there forever. In a delicate human body with gentle feminine curves and an open, innocent, heart-shaped face, she appeared fragile. But only if he ignored her eyes and her aura. Those spoke of a hidden strength, one not yet realized. Her soul held a certainty, a center, that was missing from his, and all he wanted was to stand within her aura and make her see the ferocity he saw coiled deep within her stillness.
Grey’s shock flooded her. She— he couldn’t move, couldn’t think past her.
The remembered Ivy drew closer, step by agonizingly slow step, her wide-eyed gaze staying locked on him. Her aura inched closer to his. His breath hitched. Another step. Just one more.
She bumped the Handmaiden’s chair and her attention dropped to it as if she hadn’t expected it to be there.
Look up. Please, Mother, look up again.
But she clenched her hands and stared at her feet, the submission twisting in Ivy’s— no, Grey’s chest. He ached seeing her trying to make herself smaller and not reveal the power within her.
His pulse pounded fast. So did hers, along with the remembered her. It throbbed at the remembered Ivy’s throat, revealed by the clarity she gave Grey just by standing in the same room. The muscles in the remembered Ivy’s jaw clenched and she squared her shoulders.
“The chamberlain said you were leaving,” she said — still staring at the floor — her voice soft but powerful, sending a shiver racing through Grey.
“Yes.” Please, look up. Just a glance.
His desire to fall into her gaze again consumed her… him. He craved her like she craved memories—
Except it wasn’t just memories she craved. There was something about Grey himself, something she couldn’t explain that made her soul resonate.
The remembered Grey and Ivy exchanged words, but Ivy couldn’t concentrate past the fierce certainty within Grey. It wasn’t just that she righted his broken magic. It was that she strengthened him, offered a stability he’d never had before. And that stability, that bedrock, resonated from his soul to hers. Just the fire from his depth of memories coursed through her veins. She’d never felt so solid or so certain, seeing a memory.
“We’ve met, you know.”
The remembered Ivy’s gaze jumped to his and lightning snapped through him. The connection had been completed. Magic to magic, soul to soul, she filled him with joy and peace and desire.
A desire that sizzled across her nerves, burning away any hint of the frozen knot she’d thought was a permanent feature.
Her breath hitched. She didn’t need his memory to remember what happened next. He’d brushed his lips against hers, then slid his rough jaw against her cheek.
The remembered Grey leaned closer.
Anticipation swelled hot and sank low within her.
It was just a brush of lips, no more than a breath, but the memory burned through her and Grey. This was the part he wanted her to see, how she affected him, how he was mesmerized by her strength of spirit.
But she wanted more than just a whisper of a kiss, and it wasn’t just Grey’s emotions influencing her. Her insides churned with the desire of the memory and the craving for it to be more. A kiss, a real kiss that connected them as only humans connected.
The remembered Grey’s lips inched closer, the memory slowing, moving at an agonizing pace. Remembered Ivy’s breath warmed her— his face. A shiver swept through him and he dipped in, finishing the connection.
Another shot of lightning zinged through both of them, then his cheek brushed against hers, drawing a moan—
The moan she hadn’t made but desperately wanted to the first time he’d caressed her jaw. This time she didn’t jerk back. This time she’d embrace the fire blazing from him and melting into her. She’d savor the moment, the pressure in her chest, the fullness in her soul.
The moan rolled out languid and sensual. This was right. This was how she was supposed to feel.
But the remembered Grey froze—
She froze?
No, the real Grey froze.
Ice swept back into her and another rumbling moan caught in her throat. She’d gone too far, adding fantasy to memory, and he knew. It wasn’t just her reliving his memory. He’d joined her for the journey, and somehow she’d mistaken his desire for her stillness as a desire for her.
CHAPTER 25
Everything within Grey froze. Ivy was purring. Mother of All, she was purring.
And God help him, he was doing everything to ignore the purr curling in the back of his throat.
This was bad. Very, very bad.
Dragons only purred for their inamorata or inamorato.
Ivy wrenched her hands free of Grey’s and the connection of his memory through her magic snapped off. Cold swept over him, filled with an aching e
mptiness, and he grabbed at her hands, the only thing he could think of to stop the chill. But she scrambled back, out of reach, until she hit the tiled tub wall behind her.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was manipulating your memory.”
“Ivy—” God, she’d purred. He’d purred!
This couldn’t be happening.
He couldn’t be inamorated. Not with a member of the Royal Coterie and one of Tobias’s agents. Certainly not with a drake Nero and Diablo were going to murder if Grey couldn’t convince them she wasn’t a threat to their coterie. And if she was in danger, his soul would do whatever it took to protect her, even if that meant alienating everyone who cared for him or dying.
“I’ve never done that before,” she said, her words barely audible over the rushing in his ears.
Inamorated. Souls bound to each other for life. Forever. Whether this was what they wanted or not. Whether it was safe or not. And with Grey a fugitive, wanted by the dragon prince who was also Ivy’s doyen, he couldn’t have a relationship with her. He couldn’t bring someone into his life and endanger her like that.
“Ivy—” Except he had no idea what to say. He’d only just figured out Nero and Diablo didn’t need to worry about her. With her condition, she’d wake the next morning and not remember them or their unsanctioned coterie. She could go back to being Tobias’s agent. Yes, they still had the issue of her working with Grey and shooting the prince’s new assassin, but Nero had already come up with an explanation. She’d needed to use Grey and Bolo was endangering the mission.
But inamorated? That was a permanent bond between souls that only happened once in a dragon’s lifetime, and very few dragons found it.
She stared at him, but not with horror or realization, as if she hadn’t heard herself purr or — and this was more likely the case — she was too young to know what purring meant?
“I’m sorry. I thought showing me that… moment meant we were… but I was wrong.”
His chest ached and his throat tightened. She thought he was rejecting her and didn’t realize the horrible truth. She was stuck with him, broken, haunted him.
“You weren’t wrong,” he said, unable to stop himself. He shouldn’t tell her he cared. He should force her away, make her angry with him, and pray she never recognized the truth. This was his fault. He’d been drawn to her from the beginning—
Because he was freak’n inamorated with her!
How could he have missed something so big?
How the hell was he going to fix this?
Except he couldn’t fix this. His soul had made its choice. So had hers. Logic, plans, political danger had nothing to do with it. Hell, the two inamorated drakes Grey knew were in love with humans. That was worse than this. Except while Anaea was on Regis’s radar, she was a full sorcerer and that was enough to give anyone pause before trying to kill her or Hunter. And Regis didn’t know about Ryan, making it safe for Capri to pretend nothing had changed and so avoid the prince’s rage.
Ivy hugged herself tight, as if trying to hold herself together. Her wide-eyed gaze locked on his, and the ache in his chest grew, making it hard to breathe.
“The memory— Your memory was so—” She swallowed, her body so tense the action looked painful. “I’ve never experienced anything like that before.”
The memory fluttered through him, and her aura swelled and brushed against his. Her eyes rolled back and another soft purr escaped her lips.
His own purr strained in his throat, stronger than before, and he fought to swallow it back.
Maybe she’d forget. Maybe she’d wake in the morning and not remember.
If her amnesia was like the effects of the rebirth spell — and it sounded like it was — her bond to him would be stripped from her soul with her memories. She wouldn’t know the heartache of having found and lost her inamorato. She could carry on. Safe. Above all, she had to be safe. He had to protect her. Even if that meant protecting her from himself.
“When you’re near, it’s so hard to keep my magic under control.” Her aura pulled back tighter against her body, a green glow that thrummed in time with her too-fast pulse, and she jerked to her feet.
He grabbed her wrist before she could flee. He couldn’t let her leave thinking he was mad at her or that she’d done something wrong.
“You just surprised me.” Mother, this was a mess.
Keep her away from you.
Keep her close.
Make up your mind!
But the battle within him to protect his inamorata and to keep her near raged within him. And keeping her near was winning.
Except he couldn’t keep her near forever.
His throat tightened, and his chest ached. Letting her forget was the right thing to do. Mother, he wished he could forget. Just this one thing. But he never would. He’d remember finding and leaving his inamorata forever, and time would never ease this heartache.
Her expression softened, still edged with fear but now also with sadness. It tore into him and all he wanted was to tell her that everything was going to be all right.
And for her, it would be. Tomorrow she wouldn’t remember. Tomorrow he would have to let her go.
But maybe the Mother would grace him with this one gift and give them tonight.
He forced warmth into his expression. “Did it work?”
Delight blossomed in her eyes, and all grief over what he needed to do vanished. He’d given her something more than just protection, something better than things that sparkled in the sunlight. Her pleasure made her aura billow and caress his, sending heated desire swelling through him.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Mother, he shouldn’t sleep with her. That would just turn a bad situation worse, but now all he could think about was stripping away her clothes and driving her to the heights of pleasure for the rest of the night.
Because that was all they had.
“Oh, yes.” Her gaze dipped to his lips.
God, he needed to taste her, needed to feel the slide of her body against his, around him. Hear her moan and purr and scream—
He needed to not let himself get any more attached than he already was.
She bit her bottom lip, a slight action whispering of desire and uncertainty, capturing him completely.
Who was he kidding? They were inamorated. It didn’t get any more attached even if all they’d done was share memories. Kissing her wouldn’t make it hurt any less, and while his soul ached at the thought of tomorrow, his body throbbed with the thought of right now.
Her gaze jumped back up to his, and the fierce dragon spirit he’d first seen curled tight in her delicate human form stared back, her eyes filled with the same searing desire coursing through him.
He had to stop this. He couldn’t let her take them where they both wanted to go. But man, it was getting harder and harder to think straight.
“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” he forced out.
“You’re afraid I won’t forget you in the morning?”
I’m praying you will. I’m begging you won’t. “No. Associating with me is dangerous.”
There. He’d said it. The whole reason they were a bad idea. Maybe if she added her willpower to his, they could choose common sense over desire.
Her lips quirked and she dipped in and kissed him, a sudden quick brush of her lips against his. Just like in the memory.
An electric shock snapped through him, stealing all breath and thought, and he grew hard in an instant. Mother, just a kiss. That was all it took.
No. Common sense. Remember? He needed to stay focused… for both of them.
“I’ve been afraid from the moment I woke up. With you, I’m not afraid. I can’t explain it.” She skimmed her cheek along his, just like in the memory. “I’m already associated with you.”
“But this— This—” Except he couldn’t think of a good argument.
She straddled his legs. “This is between you and me.”
If he had any coherent thou
ght left, it vanished. His soul had chosen, and his human body was more than ready to satisfy her. His erection throbbed, straining against his briefs, and the heat from her core radiating through her pants only made him harder.
“If all I get is tonight, then I want it all.” She nipped his ear. “Tell me you’re not interested.”
Holy Mother! “You know it would be a lie if I did.”
“Yeah, I would.” She shifted closer, rubbing herself against him with glorious pressure.
He fought to turn his purr into a moan. “You’re not playing fair.”
“Oh, and you are?” She nipped his bottom lip. “I’m pretty sure you started playing dirty the moment you kissed me in the Handmaiden’s chambers.”
“You just saw that I couldn’t control myself.” And he wasn’t going to be able to control himself for much longer here, either.
“Do I need to be worried about that?” she asked, her voice low, seductive.
“Is that a challenge?”
“Maybe.” Another nip that sent more electric attraction snapping straight to his groin.
“You know you shouldn’t challenge a dragon,” he growled.
She shivered, her body trembling against his, and a purr escaped her lips. “Is that so?”
“Yes.” He captured her head, tangling his fingers in her hair, and kissed her. Full and strong. No tentative brush, no whisper of skin against skin. It was demanding, and barely controlled.
She moaned into his mouth and he seized the opening, sliding his tongue against hers, fueling another moan, and a glorious shiver that pressed her body harder against his. A small part of his mind said he should go slow, savor the moment, be gentle. He didn’t know if she’d had a lover before — or if she remembered having one. But the thrill of their connection, of their auras crackling against each other and the surety in his soul, made it difficult to think beyond anything else.
In that moment, there was only her. Her radiating calm, her spirit, and her pleasure.
She rubbed her palms along his jaw and a purr escaped. He tried to change it, hold it back, anything to withhold this heartbreaking truth, but she purred back. The vibration rumbled into his mouth and resonated in the core of his being. This was his truth. This was their truth. And the only thing he could do tonight was hang on for the ride.