“I love you, too.”
He wanted to pick her up and twirl her around the room, but he didn’t dare. Not after she’d ended up in the hospital so recently. Not while she carried a child. So instead, he leaned down and kissed her softly.
“Next time, tell me sooner,” he murmured against her lips.
She snorted. And somehow, coming from her the sound was both cute and ladylike. “But then you won’t let me do things like rescue my friends.”
“Exactly.”
Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. “I’m so selfish. I didn’t even ask about Anna.”
“Your friend is just fine, under guard in our home. And you aren’t selfish, you’ve been a little busy.”
She grinned, and then kissed him. He slid his tongue between her lips, and felt his body ready to claim her again. He broke the kiss and glanced over her shoulder. Could he take her quickly and silently enough to not get caught?
“No way, cuore mio,” she chided him, as if reading his thoughts. The line between her brows reappeared, and he frowned in response.
“What is it?”
She hesitated, then spoke in a rush of words. “My father. I know it’s stupid, but now that I’m feeling calmer, I’d like to stop by his house before we go home. Just to clear the air a bit. Get a few things off my chest.”
He hated the idea of taking her to the man who’d so hurt her not twenty minutes before. He wanted to pull her into his arms, protect her. Keep her safe, not take her into danger.
But she wasn’t that kind of woman. No. His mate was the type to walk bravely into any trouble right at his side. And no matter how it might drive him crazy, he couldn’t restrict her just to make himself feel more comfortable. She would never be happy.
“Anything for you, cara mia.”
12
Domenica parked in her usual spot at her house, and for once—even though she’d done it since high school—it didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel like coming home.
Convincing Gian to let her go alone to see her father hadn’t been the easiest thing in the world to do. But he seemed to really understand her need for independence. Her need for certain freedoms. And ultimately, her need to tell her father to stuff it alone.
With that, and more than a little help from Dr. Gordon, reassuring him that she wasn’t likely to faint again so long as she stuck to his orders about rest and food, Gian had agreed.
Tension touched every part of her as she got out of her car and headed for the back door. She’d half-expected not to be allowed to the front gate after her father’s words only an hour before. Domenica approached the door but no one stopped her. She opened the door and walked into the huge foyer. None of her father’s men waited there to stop her.
Feeling like a stranger in the house she’d grown up in made the short walk to her father’s office uncomfortable, to say the least. But she forced herself to take step after step. Talking to her father alone was a necessity. If he had the same attitude he’d had at the hospital… Well, she’d deal with that if she had to. At least then she would know for sure where she stood.
One of her father’s men stood at his office door. Tony.
“Working for him the whole time, huh?” she asked, giving him a wry grin. If he heard the bitterness in her tone, so be it.
Tony shrugged, lifting a single shoulder. “I would have done my best to help you, even without the Don’s okay.”
Sure you would have. But she didn’t say the sarcastic words aloud. Tony wasn’t a bad guy, but his loyalty ultimately lay with her father. Something she should have remembered.
“Is he in?” She knew he was. Otherwise, there wouldn’t have been a guard at his door.
By way of answer, Tony rapped quickly on the door behind him. There was an answering noise inside, and Tony opened the door then gestured for her to enter.
Straightening her shoulders, she held her head high and marched into her father’s office. He sat behind the large desk he’d owned since before she’d been born. When Tony lingered behind her, she said, “I’d like to speak with you alone.”
Hard gaze locked on hers, her father gave Tony a quick nod. The big man left, shutting the door behind him.
“What is it?” her father asked, shuffling through paperwork on his desk. As if he had better things to do than speak with his only daughter.
“You betrayed me,” she said, proud of the strength in her voice.
Dark eyes met hers. He didn’t speak, but at least he’d stopped busying himself with the paperwork on his desk.
“I am your daughter. Whether by blood or other means, you raised me as your own.”
Something akin to frustration flashed across his features. “You’re still my daughter. But you’re also a threat.”
“I’m only a threat if you make me a threat!” She wanted to dive across the desk and shake some sense into the stubborn man. “I’m having your grandchild. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
The sound of gunfire erupted, close. In the house. And whatever reply her father had been about to make, was cut off. And he shot her an angry, questioning glare.
“It’s not my people,” she said.
He harrumphed but walked past her, pulling a gun from behind his jacket. She reached for the small caliber pistol she kept in her boot, and then tugged her cell phone free of her purse as her father headed out into the hall.
She hit Gian’s name on the screen and cursed under her breath. After a couple of rings, he finally answered.
“Something’s going down here,” she said without preamble. “Gunshots.”
“Where are you?” he growled.
“In my father’s office. But I’m heading out. I need to see what’s going on.”
“Stay where you are,” he ordered. “I’ve got two men just outside his gate, and I’ll be there as fast as I can.”
Of course he had men close by. Overprotective male. Not normally her favorite trait in a man, but she could kiss him for it now.
“I love you, but I’m not—” The phone flew from her hand, and she gasped, jumping back.
“Hello, puttana.”
“Biagio,” she bit his name out like a curse.
Biagio grinned.
13
Gian barely resisted the urge to crush the cell phone in his fist. Biagio. Had to be. The man was once again threatening his mate.
He roared in anger, causing two of his men to rush into the room, guns drawn.
“Get everyone to Don Todaro’s. Biagio is threatening Domenica,” he ordered. “Call the men onsite.”
The men nodded and scurried out.
Fire raged through his blood, and it took every bit of his self-control to resist changing into a dragon until he exited the house. Then, in a rush of rage and heat and fear, he shifted.
His dragon roared to life as scales pushed from his skin. Long teeth forced their way out of his jaw. And finally, wings punched out of his back.
Flying as a dragon was supposed to take awhile to learn. He’d been cautioned against trying until someone could be spared to train him. But he didn’t have the time.
Gian flung himself into the air with every bit of strength he could muster—and as a dragon, he could muster a hell of a lot of strength. Just the leap took him well above the nearby houses. And then he spread his wings.
The flight wasn’t pretty. In fact, Gian would bet it was as ugly a flight as anyone had ever taken. But with pure force of will and the occasional leap from a rooftop, he got to Don Todaro’s in record time.
At least ten stories up, his dragon vision—much better than his human vision—took in the scene below him. Several of Don Todaro’s men fought each other. No doubt those loyal to the Don versus those loyal to Biagio. But he didn’t give a fuck about them. His eyes scanned for her. For Domenica. For his mate.
And then he saw her.
On the ground, she huddled against an attacker. Curled into a ball, she wasn’t moving.
Shock a
nd fear arced through him, and he screamed with rage. His mate was hurt. Could be dead.
It was his worst nightmare.
What the hell would he do if she died? He couldn’t live without her—not now, not after experiencing the sweet bliss of having her in his arms, by his side. She was his life, his home, his love. His very soul.
No matter what, Biagio wasn’t living through the hour.
With little regard to how he would pull off the landing, he dove. Biagio saw him coming and tried to run.
The bastard didn’t get far.
Gian grabbed him and his claws held on tightly as he crashed into the ground, dragging Biagio along with him. Even through the toughness of his dragon scales, he could feel every inch of the asphalt scraping against him. But it would be worse for Biagio.
He tore into the man, even as Biagio desperately emptied his magazine into Gian’s flesh. From the corner of his eye, Gian could see that Domenica wasn’t moving. She was still curled into a tight little ball.
The small part of his mind that wanted to extend this, wanted to make sure that Biagio suffered, was overrun by the fear and rage of what Biagio had done to his mate.
He had to end it. Had to make sure she was safe. Make sure she was okay.
He clawed at Biagio, biting at the man. Biagio continued to shoot. Then, he got a good grip. Beneath his claws and teeth, bones crunched.
Biagio stopped fighting.
Domenica peeled her eyes open. She was groggy, as if she’d been knocked unconscious, but her body was still tensely wrapped around her unborn child. Had she been knocked out? She didn’t think so. Stunned, certainly.
Another loud roar and she opened her eyes fully, coming up to her knees carefully. She didn’t want to risk passing out. Not here. Not surrounded by her enemies.
She looked up and met serpentine eyes.
“Gian,” she breathed.
God, the man was majestic as a dragon. His bronze scales glittered in the sunlight. While his dark eyes absorbed all the light around them. Blood dripped from his fangs and coated his claws.
And Biagio was nowhere to be seen.
Upon seeing her move, Gian let out a triumphant call. Then he turned, going after Biagio’s men who remained. There weren’t many that she could see, and those remaining fled at the sight of the angry dragon.
Moments later, the air around Gian shimmered, and his human body re-formed. Then the man—the very naked, sexy man—stood where the dragon had been. Without hesitating, Gian strode to her side.
“Are you all right?” He stroked her cheek, softly, as if he were afraid she might disappear. For once, his emotion was plain to see in his expression. And if she wasn’t mistaken, she would have sworn his cheeks had been streaked with tears.
Moving of its own accord, her hand slid to touch her belly. Her face hurt, and she was certain that the rest of her body would be covered soon by mottled bruises. But she’d guarded her unborn child well.
“I’m okay,” she murmured. “Is Biagio…”
He nodded grimly. “He left me no choice. And I don’t give a fuck what the political fallout might be.”
Relief washed over her and she nodded. “We’ll deal with it. Whatever it is. Together.”
He took her hand in his and pressed a soft kiss against her palm. “Always.”
14
Domenica touched her slightly swollen belly beneath her wedding dress. At the end of the aisle, Giancarlo straightened his jacket. Her dragon mate beamed at her, revealing a depth of emotion that he rarely showed in public.
She couldn’t see herself, but she suspected that she looked just as enthralled.
They had debated back and forth as to whether they really needed a formal wedding. In the world of the Powyrkin, being mated was an even stronger bond than human marriage. But, they’d both been raised as humans. So neither of them really wanted to forgo a wedding. But Domenica also hadn’t wanted to wait until she was huge to try to find a dress, so they’d decided on the small ceremony Anna had helped her plan over the course of a week. They’d invited their new Shadow Mob family, some close friends, and a couple of actual family members.
She’d even invited her father, but he had declined.
It wasn’t unexpected, but it still stung. However, seeing the pride and happiness in Gian’s face made up for any shortcomings that might’ve otherwise bothered her. Her father was the man he was. Maybe someday she’d have some sort of relationship with him, but if she didn’t, she could handle it. Regardless, she’d never view him as her safety net again.
The music started, and she slowly walked down the aisle. In a short ceremony, she and Gian vowed to forever honor, love, and cherish each other for as long as they both lived.
And beyond.
Then the reception began. Only ten minutes in, Gian was called away by one of their men. Her questioning glance got a wave in response, so whatever he was dealing with, it must not have been too serious.
“These desserts are divine!” Anna gushed before shoving another tiny chocolate in her mouth. For a human who’d been raised pretty normally, Anna dealt with the whole kidnapping thing like a trooper. She’d confessed to Domenica that she woke occasionally with nightmares—and she still hadn’t returned to her own apartment, instead choosing to stay in one of their guest houses—but she seemed okay, considering. As far as Domenica was concerned, she could stay with them as long as she wanted.
Domenica nodded in agreement. They were delicious. “Thanks for the bakery recommendation.”
Anna nodded, her mouth full.
A strong arm wrapped around her shoulders, and she looked up and smiled at Gian. “Hi there, husband.”
He smiled, his dark eyes crinkling on the edges. “Wife.”
“Where’d you disappear to?”
His smile didn’t dim. “Just another messenger.”
Ugh. “That’s what? The third this week?”
He nodded. “They’re persistent, I’ll give them that.”
That worried her a bit. The messengers were never rude outright, but they were pushy. Someone wanted Gian back in Homeland an awful lot. But whoever it was didn’t seem to want him hurt. Otherwise they’d have stopped sending polite messengers well before now.
“May I have this dance?” Gian asked, giving her a little bow.
She glanced at Anna, but the other woman waved her off before shoving yet another dessert in her mouth. “Have fun.”
She let Gian lead her onto the dance floor and together they swayed to the music. The orchestra music was very different from what they’d danced to the night they’d first connected at Gian’s club. But her hips still moved perfectly in sync with his. And he held her close and kissed her tenderly.
Together, they’d found their home. And dancing with this man for the rest of her life would be bliss. Somehow, in the arms of a dragon, she’d found freedom.
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Dragon Star by Anna Morgan
Dragon Claimed by Cecilia Lane
Dragon Mob by Tiffany Allee
Dragon Blood by S.A. Ravel July 2017
The conclusion of the series mystery!
Dragon Prince by Emma Alisyn August 2017
DRAGON STAR: CHAPTER ONE
Mateo lurched off the couch, the half-naked groupie's arm in one hard hand. She stumbled against him, giggling, high. Higher now that he'd put his mouth to work on her body. That had been a mistake. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand and thrust her ahead of him, towards the doorway. Out.
She didn't get the message. Her limp hair tangled in her eyes as she tried to entice him to follow her. "Let's join the rest of the party," she yelled over the music. She dropped one hand down to her bare stomach.
Mateo kept his eyes strictly on her face. She'd mistaken him for something he wasn't. More to the point, he'd played his role too well and it started to chafe. He needed space. Air.
"G
et out," he said, brusque, rough hands emphasizing his tone. "You're a boring lay anyway."
She resisted his attempts poorly. Even if Mateo hadn't been physically trained, she was drunk and uncoordinated. She took two rough steps back and her giggling expression dropped into a sneer. "So, it's true what they say. The big, cocky rock star can't get it up—"
Mateo slammed the door in her face. He didn't need to hear rumors about his virility. Especially when they were true. He rested his forehead on the door. He could feel the thump of the after party just beyond. Thankfully there was no yelling or door-pounding from the groupie. He'd had to fend off worse.
Mateo sighed and turned to brace his back on the door instead. He was frustrated with the pattern his life had found. Stuck in a rut, trapped by family loyalty and his own lack of direction. He didn't know what he needed, but he yearned hard for something every day. Something different. It had driven him to tour across the world this year. Constantly traveling helped scratch some of that itch. He'd also demanded more room. A bigger touring bus, bigger hotels, more space. The walls of his life were closing in and Mateo couldn't stretch out far enough.
Nothing seemed to help.
In his pocket, Mateo's cell phone jangled a tune. He fished it out and frowned at the display screen. His foster-father was calling. The only father he had, really. A man who had taken him in against a lot of common sense and stayed loyal despite Mateo's growing restlessness. A man he owed more than his life to, but his very soul.
He answered the phone. "Sire. I trust you're well."
"Ah, Mateo. My Descent. Are you alone?"
"Yes." Mateo shrugged off the door and walked briskly to the back of his dressing room where the pounding music wouldn't distract him. Estophen was a man of direct action and Mateo had become much like him in the intervening years since they'd met.
"I have an assignment for you."
Dragon Mob: A Powyrworld Urban Fantasy Romance (The Lost Dragon Princes Book 3) Page 10