Dance of the Dragon

by Kira Nyte

  He sighed, pressing his lips to her temple. He sensed her unease fade and welcomed her slight weight as she leaned back against him.

  “You and Ariah might have a lot to talk about. She was homeless for years after her father had a mental breakdown and spent everything on booze and gambling, all because his brother—Ariah’s uncle and Alazar’s Keeper—married the love of his life. Later, it came to light that Mark was most likely under the spell of his wife, who happened to be a half-breed Baroqueth. Ariah had a very hard life in some terrible conditions. Not as bad as what you’ve endured, but bad. She’d understand you.”

  “Does she live here, too?”

  “They all do. After the attack in New Orleans last month, it was a unanimous decision to return to our homeland, where we’re strongest.”

  “But you continued to stay in my world.”

  “I didn’t really have a reason to leave. Corvin was dead with no heirs that I knew of, so I thought I’d never have a lifemate. I helped Cade and the others locate members of The Hollow to return them here. Call me the earthly liaison.”

  He inhaled the scent of her hair and her skin, the fresh breath of water and the sweetness of flowers. His intoxicating, mind-spinning, body-heating woman. He curled his fingers into the ledge, talons stretched to anchor his hands on the rock so they didn’t wander to places he couldn’t go. Not right now.

  “But…” He pressed his lips tight to suppress a shiver when she tilted her head on a sigh, exposing the length of her neck. He was so utterly screwed. “Now I have a reason to return for good.”

  “Your house was left in shambles.” Taryn tried to resist the temptation of her creamy skin and that throbbing pulse along her neck. When she spoke, her voice laced with arousal, he gave in to the temptation. An airy taste. A simple brush of his lips down her neck, followed by a flick of his tongue over her pulse. She sank into him, her head lolling back against his shoulder. “Will you…ever try to…”

  He stole a glimpse of her through heavily hooded eyes, her cheeks so pink and her lips parted. Eyes closed and a desperate crease pinching her forehead.

  Logic demanded he stop. She was as sensationally overloaded as he, and that would spell danger. Danger of crossing forbidden lines she might not be able to handle crossing so soon.

  And yet…

  Taryn licked up to her ear before he nibbled her earlobe. Retracting his talons, he drew his hand from the ledge and slipped it across her belly.

  “I came out here to cool down, love,” he growled against her ear. “You’re making it fucking impossible.”

  He teased the waistband of her jeans. Gabriella gasped, wrapping an arm back around his neck. If she pressed herself any closer to him, if she turned around, there was no telling what he would do.

  “I can help,” she said on a strained breath. He was about to ask her what she meant when her other hand reached back to shape his cock through his jeans. The touch elicited a fierce growl from the depths of his chest. He was a damn bastard, indulging in her touch for a few precious moments before he stilled her hand.

  “No.” Slowly, he drew her hand away and draped her arm around his neck. Her hands locked together at his nape as he dragged his fingers down her arm, her chest, between her breasts, and paused at her jeans. He gave her a few breaths to process what he was going to do before he popped open the button and lowered the zipper. “Tell me to stop, love.”

  Oh, the sweet sound that escaped her lips as he slipped his hand beneath the flimsy panties and found her wet center.

  Her arms tightened around his neck. Her hips tilted, giving him full access.

  “Gabriella,” he groaned, stroking her clit.

  “No, no, no. Don’t stop.”

  Each word was taut with anticipation, just as her face twisted with a mixture of almost painful need and delight.

  He played her until she quivered and shook, moans escaping her as her lips parted. He sensed her impending orgasm and eased off her clit.

  “Taryn, no.” Loss, need, frustration all rolled into that whisper of anguish. He lifted his mouth to her jaw and nibbled as he teased the slick entrance of her body with his fingers.

  “No?” He began to withdraw his hand when she dropped her arm and held him still. “Angel—”

  Her chin dipped and she met his gaze. Her pupils were dilated to the point only a thin ring of bright blue remained. “I trust you not to hurt me.”

  He wasn’t sure who moved first, but that fraction of control he clung to crumbled the instant his mouth crushed against hers. His talons tore through the rock, retracting by the time he fisted her hair and sank his fingers into the heat of her body. The force of willpower it took not to grind himself against her ass was unbelievable. She trembled in his arms, beneath his touch. Her breaths turned ragged, short, strained gasps between kisses.

  Taryn rolled his thumb over her clit as he pressed inside her. A tiny whimper escaped her mouth as she ended their kiss and leaned her forehead against his. He played her nub as she came apart in the arms of orgasm, clenching around his fingers, hands fisting in his hair and nails digging into his arm. Her soft mewls enchanted him as much as watching the pleasure cut across her face.

  “That’s right, love. You’re safe in my arms,” he whispered as the tremors increased, causing her knees to buckle. He pulled his hand from her jeans and scooped her into his arms, bringing them back into his home. Gabriella trembled against him, her arms tight around his neck, fingers still holding his hair. He settled onto the sofa and cradled his precious woman until the tremors eased and her breathing returned to normal. With a kiss to her forehead, he said, “You come before me, in everything. Everything.”

  When she looked up at last, her eyes were crystal clear blue, the most vivid blue he had seen yet. There was little hint of the storm he’d become accustomed to seeing swirl in her gaze. It was like clarity had finally rooted itself inside her, and flourished.

  She said nothing as she stared at him, but in the silence, he heard the words she didn’t verbalize or think. There were no words, only pulses of feelings and sensations, gratitude and awe.

  Appreciation. Acceptance.

  At last, she said in a hushed voice, “You’ve defied every belief ingrained in my soul. You’ve torn down the lies I’ve lived and the lies that created my life. But I don’t want to come before you in everything, Taryn.” She drew her hand over his cheek, her fingertips shaky as she traced his brow. “There are things I want to come beside you in.”

  “Whatever you wish, angel. Just say it and I’ll make it happen.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Taryn huffed a breath, blowing the lock of hair from his face that had come loose from the leather tie as he finished hammering the nail into the wooden beam. The cacophony of saws and hammers put to bricks, wood, and other building supplies had become The Hollow’s music of choice over the last two weeks. The former denizens of The Hollow were returning with the help of the dragons. Right now, only one or two a week, but they were eager to rebuild their old villages and homes.

  The dragons were excited to help, and so were their women. Gabriella’s joy on the days she helped stock the few completed buildings with wares was unmistakable. His dear woman thrummed with self-worth, and it filled him with pride.

  “Toss me more nails, Tar,” Emery said from across the room. Taryn gathered a handful from the pail hanging on the side of his ladder and cast them in a singe arc at Emery. His dragon brother snorted as the nails landed in a neat pile on the table beside him. “Show off.”

  Taryn chuckled. It felt good to use his magic again, like finally taking full strides after decades of being hobbled. “Like you wouldn’t do the same.”

  “I’d make it far more spectacular.”

  “That, I wouldn’t doubt.” Taryn bit down on two nails, positioned a third along the wooden beam, and hammered away. “Things are coming along well.”

  “What?” Emery cupped the side of his head and leaned in Taryn’s direct
ion. “I can’t understand you with metal in your mouth.”

  “Watch it, kid.”

  The door burst open, crashing into the wall. Taryn swung around and snarled. Tajan, the brother with the chip on his shoulder, met his gaze, his lip curled in a sneer.

  “Well, look what the lizard dragged in.” Emery snickered as he started toward Tajan.

  Tajan’s scowl intensified. He dropped the armful of wooden beams he’d maneuvered through the door onto the floor. “Watch your mouth, youngling.”

  Emery threw his hands up defensively, glancing between Taryn and Tajan. “Bro, seriously. What’s up with the age discrimination today?”

  Taryn wagged his brows. “Just having fun.”

  Tajan waved a hand. “Maybe for you. I meant it.”

  Emery crossed his arms over his chest. “Taj, you really need to get that stick out of your ass. You don’t sit well on it.”

  Taryn put down the hammer and hopped off the ladder when he caught Tajan’s midnight blue eyes turning deep red. The dragon had a serious temper with no patience to spare, even with his own family. His preference for solitude except for rare appearances, such as today’s, made most of them scratch their heads.

  Tajan was only a few years younger than him. Taryn knew of nothing that would explain his brother’s foul attitude, especially since there was a time when Tajan used to laugh with the rest of them.

  It had been decades since he’d last seen the man crack a grin.

  “Chill. Both of you. Don’t need sparks ruining all of our hard work.” Taryn motioned to the wooden structure around them. “We’re trying to rebuild, not have a premature bonfire.”

  Tajan snorted a plume of smoke. His eyes smoldered. “I’ll be back with more wood.”

  Taryn ignored Emery’s piqued glance as Tajan left. He hurried after their brother, catching Tajan’s arm before he transformed.

  Tajan’s scowl deepened, his pointed look at Taryn’s hand a silent, yet lethal warning. He might be a loner, but he was as deadly as the rest of them. Maybe more so.

  “Hey, listen. We’re headed over to Alazar’s swimming hole later this evening. You should come. It’s been a while since we’ve all been together,” Taryn suggested.

  “I don’t do gatherings.” He gave a single shake of his arm. Taryn lowered his hand. “Enjoy.”

  “Taj, what happened?”

  Tajan had started to turn away when he paused, his raven black hair cutting over his eyes. For a long moment, Taryn stared at his brother’s back, listening to the bangs and knocks and scrapes of industrious reconstruction from the village behind him.

  At last, Tajan rolled his shoulders and looked at Taryn. Despite his set jaw and hardened expression, the red left his eyes.

  “I respect you, Taryn. I respect you all. You’re my brothers.”

  Then he lunged forward, shifting from man to dragon between one blink and the next, pulling himself skyward with strong strokes of his enormous wings.

  Taryn shook his head. One day, he’d figure out what the hell happened to the old Tajan. The one who remembered how to laugh and talk and live like the rest of them. Wiping a hand across his forehead to brush away the dust sent airborne by Tajan’s departure, Taryn saw Syn eating up the distance between them.

  “Tar, hold up.”

  “Holding.” He hooked his thumbs on the waistband of his jeans. “Where did you land?”

  “I didn’t. I was down on the south side helping with some of the old homes.” Syn squinted in the direction of Tajan’s departing form. “Surprised to see him here.”

  “Delivering wood.”

  Syn closed the gap between them and shook his head. “Wish I understood what happened to him.”

  “You and me both, bro. He’s been quiet for way too long. Maybe the right woman will help.” Taryn shrugged and sighed, replacing the melancholy he felt over Tajan’s unhappiness with a smile. “I can’t hold on too long. Got work to do, you lazy bastard.”

  “Well, work’ll wait. You’re needed at home. And when you’re done there, don’t forget Al’s little gathering.”

  Taryn stiffened, concern shattering his calm. “What is it? Is Gabriella okay?”

  Syn chuckled. “Look at you, going all lifemate crazy. She’s fine. I’ll finish up here.” He clapped Taryn’s shoulder. “Go home before I change my mind.”

  “I hate it when you do that,” Taryn grumbled as Syn disappeared into the shop.

  He hated not knowing the details of what he was walking into. Sure, it’d been a little over two weeks since they’d come to The Hollow, and Gabriella’s progress had been one for the books, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have relapses or panic episodes. There were occasions when he had to wake her from a nightmare, or when she recoiled in fear if caught off guard. There were times she got so down on herself for little things, like burning bread in the oven or breaking something. Others when he caught her so lost in her own thoughts, receiving only vague responses to his questions, that he reached out to Amelia and Saralyn—Briella’s mother, homemaker, gardener, fixer of sickness—just to make sure she was okay.

  Taryn launched into the sky and headed toward his mountain peak.

  “Angel? Is everything okay?”

  Their telepathic connection glowed with golden energy, warm and brilliant. It eased him, but only slightly. He’d become accustomed to her ability to control her feelings through their mind-speak, and he wouldn’t put it past her to shield her thoughts in an effort to avoid worrying him.

  The other women had taught her much in her short time in The Hollow. Both Gabriella and Amelia had flourished. Gabriella, with her self-perception and confidence, Amelia with her magic.

  “Gabriella?”

  The only thing keeping his anxiety under control was the golden glow that told him she was safe. He sped up his flight, soaring between peaks and over the hills, valleys, and forests until he reached his landing platform.

  Gabriella had not responded.

  He landed and took off at a run, transforming as he bolted down the rugged stairs, through the maze of pitch-black corridors that were built to confound anyone who tried to enter his home uninvited, and finally reached the secure door.

  “Gabriella!” Taryn yelled, his voice pitched with worry as the door slid open. He didn’t bother closing it before rushing through the main corridor to the living room—

  His angel appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, her lips pursed and her brows pinched. Her eyes flickered. She held a platter in her hands.

  Taryn’s shoulders sank beneath the weight of relief. He closed the space between them, capturing her face in his hands, and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

  Goddess almighty, his woman would be the death of him.

  * * *

  Gabby prepared for this for days. She tried to ignore the slithering guilt at Taryn’s obvious worry, but it was hard after seeing his eyes bright with concern and hearing his voice strained with the beginnings of panic.

  “You’re okay,” he murmured, his lips still pressed to her forehead.

  “Sorry to make you worry like that. I was really trying to concentrate and get this done before you came home.” She stomped down the guilt and smiled, raising the platter between them. Taryn’s brows rose. “I know it’s a little late for lunch, but how about an early supper?”

  “You cooked? For me?” His gaze lifted from the platter of fresh-cut meats to her face as a grin tugged the corner of his mouth. “Looks wonderful.”

  “I’m not going to lie. Ariah and Alazar helped, but I did most of it. Ariah’s been teaching me some recipes while you guys have been working in the village. I wanted to surprise you with something more than dried-out steak or chicken jerky.”

  Oh, his husky laughter made her heart double beat. She loved the sound, so sexy and genuine. His eyes sparkled with humor and adoration.

  He gently took the platter from Gabby and turned toward the empty table. “I’ll help you set up.”

  “Actually,
I’ve already set things up.” Her smile widened at his curious expression. She motioned to the hallway. “A picnic. In the yard. I want you to see what I’ve done with it and tell me if you like it or not.”

  “I love everything you’ve done with the place so far.” He jutted his chin toward the maze of corridors and stairs that led up to the yard. “Shall we, m’lady?”

  “Of course, my dragon.”

  It was moments like these, moments that Taryn filled her days with, that made her past feel like nothing more than a distant nightmare. He proved again and again that chivalry wasn’t dead. That gentlemen existed. That he wanted her for herself, and not for sex or pleasure only.

  For over two weeks, he refused to let her reciprocate the pleasure he gave her. She had finally reached a point where she was beginning to feel comfortable with herself, with who she was despite the minor setbacks. A lifetime of horrors didn’t just disappear, but he never let her handle them alone. He woke her from nightmares with whispers of support and reassurance while he held her and rocked her and kissed her head. When she felt the familiar tightening of her chest from some triggered memory and started to fall into the grips of panic, he soothed her from its wretched claws and brought her back to the present.

  He never spoke of her downfalls, only showed his determination to prove he was in this venture for nothing like the vicious sex her mother always warned her would be part of her future.

  “I must say I’m intrigued you’ve managed to slip this under my nose,” Taryn said, leading the way along the fire-lit paths. He squeezed his arm to his side with Gabby’s hand tucked in the crook of his elbow. “Sly devil, you.”

  She laughed. “Not nearly as sly as some of you all.” She lifted the skirt of her summer dress for him to see the floral pattern. “Who went shopping for me?”

  “Do you approve?”

  “Of course. This is beautiful.”