“Yup.” Her kiss-swollen lips curved into a smile. “You’re right.”
“Especially if we met at the edge of Timeless Gorge.” He hooked a wet ribbon of hair around her ear. “That’d be insane.”
A long, bellowing werewolf cry pierced the night. Kenyon had sent someone to check on Sasha, after all. Having found her room empty, they were calling out the search party.
Their time together was over.
“It’d be downright stupid to meet at the gorge,” she whispered. Her eyes lit up the dark like amethysts set in a moonless sky. “Especially meeting at dawn. It’d never happen, Damon.”
They were so continuing this tomorrow…
He grabbed her by the wrist and pressed a kiss to the palm of her hand. “Until never, then.”
Chapter Four
Sasha couldn’t believe she was doing this, especially after her father almost caught her coming back from the springs last night. Agreeing to meet Damon at Timeless Gorge had to be the dumbest thing she’d done this decade.
Well, she’d lied to her father—her Alpha. Not even Weres with a fang loose did that. Maybe it was the second dumbest thing…
Instead of meeting the rest of the pack in the bowels of Were Mountain to choose the warrior who’ll fight for the hot springs on behalf of their pack, Sasha had feigned food poisoning and escaped to her room…then fled out the window and down the path leading to the gorge.
If her father caught her—them—Sasha couldn’t even think about what would happen. He’d killed members of his own family over far less.
Realizing her thoughts were slowing her down and she was already late, Sasha picked up her pace and charged through some low-hanging leaves. Right onto a small clearing that stretched a few feet before dropping straight down into the gorge.
She gasped and skidded to a stop as Damon appeared in front of her, splaying both arms to his sides to protect her from running off the ledge. He’d been crouched on the ground near a backpack one second, and the next he was standing a breath away, his arms ready to snatch her into an embrace.
“Well, good morning to you, too,” he said, his Draco specks sparkling silver. “Didn’t think it’d be this easy to have you running into my arms.”
“Not funny.” She didn’t miss how great Damon smelled as she backed away. His scent was unique. Unlike anything she’d ever picked up before. It was spicy and wild and free. “Guess I was distracted. I thought I had another fifteen minutes or so to hike before I reached the ledge.”
She was more distracted than she thought.
Damon’s pale gray eyes scanned the forest behind her. “Any chance you were followed?”
“No, every Were in the mountain is beneath it, strutting around in wolf form, trying to prove they’re the tallest and toughest for the fight tonight.”
He looked content with the answer and dug around in his backpack.
Sasha couldn’t help but wonder who the Dracos were sending to fight for the springs. Damon had volunteered quickly enough, but Sasha knew Queen Elixa would have her pick of thousands of Dracos. The probability of Damon being chosen was likely slim to none. Good thing, too, because Sasha’s pack had some of the most merciless wolves on the isle, bred for killing. They were enormous and powerful, with jaws that could kill in a single snap.
Would a Draco warrior stand a chance? She didn’t think so.
She should’ve been happy about the idea. Proud. As future Alpha, Sasha should’ve been downright glowing, rubbing Damon’s nose in the fact that the Weres were going to prove the superiority of their race. But why then, on the day of their victory, did she have an odd twinge in her side? Like she didn’t want shifters, of either race, to get hurt?
“Sounds like a party,” Damon said, coming to stand beside her, the heat radiating from his body singeing Sasha’s line of thought. “You sure you’d rather be here with me instead of watching some fur fly?”
“I don’t know.” Even now, she doubted her decision. “It’s not like you come to my side of the isle very often.” Never, actually. Which is why, above all the doubt swirling in her mind, screaming at Sasha to hightail it back to Were Mountain, she was still standing in front of Damon, ready to fly the skies on his back. It was Sasha’s last chance at freedom before she became chained by the duties of being Alpha. Her last chance to really, truly experience something that made her insides dance with delight. “Besides, it’s not like I’m on the training schedule for today or anything.”
“You sure about that?” He eyed her curiously, his eyebrows arching high. “You look dressed for Fight Night.”
What was he talking about?
She examined her outfit—the one she always wore on training days. She was decked head to toe in leather, from her corseted top and coat to her pants and high-heeled boots that had chunky straps and buckles on the sides. Her raven-black hair was slicked back into a ponytail, and, thanks to Damon, her cheeks were flush.
“What?” She lifted her arms to the sides.
“When I first saw you, I thought you were going to try to take me out,” Damon said with a laugh. “But your klutzy ass would’ve tumbled over the cliff before you laid a claw on me.”
She punched him in the side, causing a laugh to spill out of him as he bowled over.
“So now what?” she asked, as a gust of warm wind vaulted over the edge of the gorge and slammed into them. “Where do we go from here?”
Once they soared into Timeless Gorge, Sasha would be in Draco territory. She’d be breaking the peace treaty by trespassing—a crime punishable by death. But since Damon had left neutral ground—the hot springs—one step back into the rain forest would call Were guards to his side.
The starkness of their paths had never seemed more black and white. Her muscles tightened in response, hardening like they did when she shifted into wolf form and prepared for a fight. Startled from the instinctual response of being pinned down, Sasha shook her head, answering her own question.
They couldn’t go anywhere. Not without persecution from one or both sides.
The moment they moved from this ledge, they’d shatter shifter loyalty code to pieces and toss them away on the summer wind.
“That’s the beauty of it,” Damon said, his gravelly voice smoother than normal. “As long as we’re making our own rules, we can go anywhere we want.” He snatched Sasha around the waist and twirled her into his arms, releasing butterflies into her stomach. As a squeal bubbled out of her, Damon hushed her busy brain by planting a feather-soft kiss on her lips. “But first, you’ve got to give me some space.”
He needed to shift.
“Of course.” Sasha’s world still felt like it was twirling around her. She retreated into the protection of the forest, more to breathe without the weight of his stare than to give him the room he’d demanded.
Anticipation rummaged around in Sasha’s stomach, digging up memories of the last time she saw Damon in dragon form. He’d been a beast, massive and commanding, with soft, gray eyes that melted her heart. Would he look the same? And would her body react to him in the same primal manner as she straddled his middle? With flashes of heat scorching across her skin and a slow, delicious burn spreading between her legs?
As Damon faced the gorge, every muscle still as stone, he stole a glance over his shoulder at Sasha. A mischievous smile slinked across his face, simmering the blood in her veins. Then he pulled off his coat and shirt and tossed them to the ground.
Sasha sucked in a quiet breath and willed her heart to steady as she drank him in with hungry eyes. His torso was wide and bronze and bursting with twitching flanks of muscle. He was like a Greek statue, molded from gold, designed to take women to the peaks of pleasure from sight alone. From the trembling in her core, Sasha would’ve bet she wasn’t far off…
But when Damon turned to the side and stripped out of his leather pants, giving Sasha an eyeful of every gloriously long inch of him, she gasped aloud, snapping his gaze back to hers.
“Lik
e what you see?” he asked, a playful smile curling his lips. Oh, how she wanted to feast on those lips again. “You can come over here and give me a hand if you’d like.”
Without thinking, Sasha took a step onto the ledge, ready to rub her hands over his glistening body and crush her lips to his.
Damon tossed his clothes and backpack at her feet.
That was the hand he’d referred to? Sasha slammed down her sexual thermostat. Typical male, she huffed, shoving his clothes into the bag as hard as she could. She should’ve thrown the bag back in his face. But a Draco rider would be responsible for her dragon’s clothes. A rider would sling his bag on her shoulder and allow him to shift without having to worry about such a mundane thing.
Damon wasn’t being rude. It was their culture. A culture she wasn’t a part of.
Today, just for one day, she’d be the rider Damon had wanted her to be all along.
By the time she’d hitched the backpack over her shoulder and looked up again, Damon was crouched on the ground near the edge of the cliff, head hung low, knuckles to the earth.
“You ready for this?” he said.
Hell yes. “Too late to turn back now.”
He nodded. His change had begun.
Tingly currents of electricity surged through Sasha’s veins and settled in her stomach, warning her that she was going to enjoy his transformation and the coming ride too much for her own good. The jolt through her body only intensified as Damon began to tremble, his muscles contracting and convulsing as they shifted from human to dragon.
Teardrop-shaped scales draped over his shoulders and down his back. They were every shade of gray, from charcoal to ash to glossy platinum, all meshed together to create an immaculate coat of armor that’d be soft to the touch.
Sasha knew firsthand how silky those scales felt against her fingers.
Large, sturdy wings unfolded from his back, stretching out, thickening to such a wide breadth that Sasha didn’t know if he’d fit on the ledge at all. His neck elongated, bulked up. And his eyes…when they set upon her, they were a lustrous silvery gray, like liquid metal removed from a fire.
With a loud snort, Damon nudged his nose at the gorge, then back to her. Time to go.
Sasha emerged from the rainforest, and, though she didn’t know why, she moved cautiously to his side. It was ridiculous to be timid, she thought. Somewhere within the massive dragon before her was the man she knew. The one who could read her anger, her nerves…even her heart, if she’d let him.
It was Damon, through and through.
She rubbed her hands over his snout. He closed his eyes and leaned his head against her hand, a compassionate motion that squeezed Sasha’s heart in a vise. She shouldn’t like this. Shouldn’t let herself get attached to this feeling stirring in her chest.
But she couldn’t help it.
Reluctantly, Sasha used his leg to prop hers and leaped onto his back.
Settling on his the middle of his back, though her legs didn’t fit around him—not by a long shot—Sasha braced for their flight. And she wondered where, on whose territory exactly, they were going to set down again.
Damon gave a shudder and flattened the long span of his body against the ground. With a burst of speed that had Sasha shrieking and burying her face into his neck, Damon leaped off the edge of the gorge, shot like a bullet, his wings tucked tightly against him.
They rode a wild current of air, lifting higher and higher, before his wings seemed to explode from his sides. With a loud whooshing sound, like sails catching wind, they banked left, hard and fast.
The wind felt refreshing against Sasha’s face. Prickling, but not cold. It whipped through her hair, whistled through her ears. She had the overwhelming urge to ride Damon with no hands, rise up and lift her hands into the sky. The feeling of soaring through the endless blue—both weightless and limitless—lifted Sasha’s spirit higher than it had ever been.
Without realizing it, Sasha squeezed her thighs around Damon’s middle, urging him on.
He pounded his wings faster, relentlessly upward into the clouds. Sasha held on tight, bending over the slight arch in his back to help him gain speed. Her heart raced. His pace matched. The sun shone bright off his scales, reflecting a rainbow of colors—blues, reds, greens. Sasha held her breath, trying to savor the magic of this moment.
As they reached the peak of their arc in the sky, Damon beat his wings slowly, flattening out. He glided over a pocket of wind. Then he let them fall down, ever slowly. It was as if they’d raced up the summit of Were Mountain and were now flying down the backside. They spiraled. Sasha held on tight, her arms wrapping around Damon’s neck, her fingers digging into his scales.
The powerful beating of his wings whipping the air resounded in Sasha’s ears. They were drums against the crisp leather of the air. They were knives, slicing through thin, cotton-candy clouds.
They were glorious.
Damon was glorious.
She’d almost forgotten how soul-staggering this really was.
They soared for minutes. Hours. Didn’t matter. Sasha didn’t know if she’d ever get a moment like this one again. She laid her head on Damon’s back, closed her eyes and listened to the deep rumble of his breathing.
When she felt as though she’d fallen into some kind of trance, Damon’s body rippled from head to tail, pushing her upright.
They’d flown to the bottom of Timeless Gorge, to where the river narrowed and turned sharply around a protruding chunk of mountain. She squinted into a large shadow at the base of the mountain and realized it wasn’t a shadow at all.
It was a cave.
“There?” she asked, looking behind her to gain her bearings. She had no clue where they’d veered or how long they’d flown. Only that she’d never seen this part of the river, or the gorge, before. “The cave?”
His body rippled again, quicker this time, as if he’d nodded in response. Then he dove toward a stretch of black sand in front of the cave. His wings beat hard once. He stretched upright, beat them fast again and then settled gently on the sand. He leaned to the side so Sasha could dismount.
The onyx-black sand was oddly smooth and fluffy beneath her feet. Like it’d never been walked on before. Where the devil were they? Surely she would’ve heard rumors of a luscious, black-sanded beach. They were surrounded by rock, with only a touch of green peeking over the gorge above their heads.
Sasha dropped Damon’s backpack to the ground, picked up a handful of sand, letting the black pebbles slip between her fingers. They were smooth from water wear. This whole area, and probably the cave, had been swallowed by the river at one time.
By the time Sasha spun back around, Damon was back in human form, shoving his legs into his pants. He zipped up and slung the backpack over his shoulder and then headed right for the mouth of the cave like he knew what lay in its shadowed mouth.
She hesitated. Did he know what he was getting into? Had he come through here before?
“Come on,” Damon said. He turned back, propping his foot up on a rock. “Don’t tell me you’ve come all this way just to turn back now.”
“It’s not that I want to go back…”
She simply didn’t want to follow him into that cave. Rogue Were packs often dwelled in caves along rivers, and they weren’t always friendly, even with wolves from like-minded packs.
“Oh, come on,” he said, offering his hand. “I know this is the edge of Draco territory, but I wouldn’t worry about other dragons bothering us. As long as you’re with me, you’re safe.”
It wasn’t her safety she worried about.
The land may’ve been Draco territory, but the cave was the perfect place for rogue Weres to plan an unexpected attack against a Draco or two. Damon might’ve been able to take care of himself against one or two werewolves, but a pack of them? No way.
Taking his hand, they walked through the wide mouth of the cave. It was dark, but Sasha’s superior Were vision allowed her to see perfectly. Once he
r eyes adjusted, she could see every crevice and every turn with crystal clarity.
The further they trudged, the more Sasha realized this wasn’t simply a cave, carved out of the mountain from river wear. This was someone’s home, with candles lit in iron sconces to lead the way, and a warm, inviting scent emitting from somewhere in the walls.
Wolves. Though she didn’t smell them, it didn’t mean they weren’t here.
She stopped.
“Damon, I don’t think—”
“It’s all right,” he said, tugging her along. “I want to show you something.”
“This is someone’s home.” She bit her lip and peered around the corner. More lights. More warmth radiating from within. “We don’t belong here. Let’s go.”
He smiled, and Sasha could’ve sworn it lit the cave a shade brighter. “It’s my home.”
“Your…” Her eyebrows rose in surprise as Damon dragged her around the corner. A massive wooden door was inset into the rock, flanked by two large oil lamps, burning bright. “Home?”
He slid his hand along the top edge of the door, came up with a wrought-iron key and shoved it into the crude lock. “After you and I were finished, I went back to Castle Arcane to live with my clan. Turned out falling in love with a werewolf didn’t exactly scream loyalty to the Dracos.” He pushed on the door with the palm of his hand, letting a sliver of light into the cave. The warmth Sasha had picked up earlier swept through the crack in the door and hit her flush in the face. “I had to make a new home away from them…from everyone.”
Sasha pieced together his words. His clan wouldn’t take him…because of her? “You’re exiled?” Because of her decision to stick with her pack, Damon had spent all these years away from his family? Bearing the shame she would’ve endured had she stayed with him?
Waves of guilt rocked and soured her stomach. He’d taken her spot under the guillotine.
“You make it sound like they sawed off my left arm.” He pushed open the door fully, giving Sasha a glimpse at what had become his home.
From the look of the goliath-sized vaulted ceiling, the center of the mountain had been carved out, leaving rough walls of stone and dirt. Damon had sectioned off a living room with a leather sofa facing an overflowing set of bookshelves and a wood-burning stove churning hot in the corner. A kitchen with wood counters and a stone slab table was situated in back. And on one living room wall, a door carved out of rock led to what Sasha assumed was Damon’s bedroom.
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