by Marcy Jacks
He would rather go back to thinking how warm and wonderful Renford's hands felt on his skin. Trying to keep his dick from getting hard and pushing aside all the memories of the wet dreams he had ever since meeting the guy seemed like more fun than this.
Again, Renford hesitated. “I don't like hitting girls, but you better believe I'll do it if I think one can hurt me, and you warlocks are pretty good at hurting people.”
That sounded like some accusation coming from the guy who had sneaked into Miles's coven and was currently holding him by the throat.
“She wouldn't have hurt you.”
“I don't know if you've noticed this, but your territory has been overrun by dragons. She most definitely would have thrown some sort of spell at me if she could have. Besides, I only came here to see you.”
Miles’s stupid heart jumped at that point.
“You did?”
Again, it took a few seconds before Renford would say anything. It was as though the man was giving away details he didn't want to be revealed by accident.
“Why come to see me?”
“You know why.”
Renford’s touch suddenly changed. It felt a little gentler, as if there was something he wanted but could not have.
Miles felt shivery again.
“N-no, I don't,” he lied.
He wasn't entirely plain stupid here, but he wasn't about to admit what he thought Renford was referring to.
Miles definitely knew what he wanted, but he wasn't going to say it out loud. Just in case he was wrong.
This was a dragon. Not even just a dragon, but a warrior from a previously hostile clan, which, now that he thought about it, might've had something to do with the attack that had just happened here.
“Was that you and your friends who attacked the coven?”
“No.”
A one-word answer, and everything inside Miles palled at him, screamed at him, to believe it.
The problem was that he would have to be the biggest idiot in the world to believe it.
“Dragons attacked us. You're saying you had nothing to do with that? And that's after you told me you attacked my sister?”
“Yes, that's exactly what I'm telling you.”
The low rumble of his voice in Miles’ ear brought a sensual shiver out of him again. His entire body was overheating, and he really hoped there was no one who could see him like this.
There was no way he wasn't blushing, and he had since stopped trying to keep his dick from reacting. Thank God his jeans and robes were going to hide the evidence though.
“You don't believe me," Renford said in that low, sexy voice. “That's fine. I didn't expect you to. And to be honest, you don't need to either.”
“What's that supposed to mean?”
Miles was starting to get a little worried now. He needed to get back inside even though he didn't want to leave.
When Renford wrapped his arms around Miles’s waist, he realized he might not have a choice.
“H-hey! What the hell do you think you're doing?”
Renford lifted Miles right up off his feet, and he did it with just one hand wrapped around Miles’s waist and another around his chest. Fuck the guy was strong. Miles almost forgot how strong dragons could be, but having his back pressed to the wall really hit it home.
"Hey, dickhead! I asked what the hell you thought you were doing. Will you put me down?”
“Sorry, no.”
Before Miles could respond to that, Renford started running. Miles struggle to let go, trying to fight him off. It didn't matter how much he was attracted to the guy. No fucking way was he going to let himself be kidnapped like this.
It wasn't as though throwing punches behind him, whacking the guy on the arms and legs was doing any good though. Renford acted like he barely felt any of it, and Miles thought he heard the sound of flapping behind him.
Like huge wings.
Oh shit. Oh no.
Miles screamed. He shouted for help and didn't stop biting, but it didn't matter as Renford jumped into the air. Instead of falling back down like he should have with the extra weight, he stayed up there, flapping his wings and pulling himself into the sky.
Miles's glasses fell off as the earth beneath him got farther and farther away.
He shouted for someone, for anyone, and he got the attention of a few of the warlocks still cleaning up on the ground.
He called for their help, still pulling at Renford’s grip, desperate to get the man to let him go.
Then he realized how stupid of a move that would be and cut it out.
Was he crazy? If he fell, there was no way in hell he’d be able to use his magick to keep from dying.
He’d pancake himself on impact if he was dropped.
The blurry dots beneath him started to move. Miles was pretty sure a few of them pointed at him, but he felt better immediately when they did.
Rescue was coming. He wasn’t entirely screwed here.
“Y-You need to put me down. They’re coming! They’ll come and get me!”
“No they won’t,” Renford growled, and Miles hissed when he felt the pinch of claws digging into his skin.
It was almost enough to force Miles to start fighting him again, but then he reminded himself of the heights he was going to. Everything was starting to look farther and farther away, the earth beneath him getting blurrier, and the air around him colder.
Oh fuck. This guy was going to kill him. He was going to die.
Now he really did wish he’d learned offensive magick. Even defensive magick. Anything else was better than this.
Miles screamed when a huge brown blur appeared right alongside him and Renford in the sky.
Holy shit, it was another dragon! One of the ones that attacked them? He couldn’t tell, but Renford did little more than growl at it.
“Go away, Marek.”
The other dragon answered back with a rumble of his own, and even Miles could see the basketball-sized golden eyes of the thing as it flew next to them.
“Why are you taking this man out of his coven?”
Okay, this guy sounded a little more rational. “Are you from K-Keagan’s clan?”
His stutter was more from the cold than from any fear. That was Mile’s story, and he was sticking to it.
The wind chill up in the sky was a bitch and a half.
The dragon didn’t answer him. “Renford, he wants to go back.”
“Not his choice.”
Oh fuck.
“Did you attack the coven? Were those your dragons?”
Renford growled at him. “You think I can assemble an army that fast after Keagan throws me out?”
“You tried to kill his mate.”
The more Miles heard between the both of them, the more worried he got about the length of his lifespan.
He groaned. “Oh God, don’t kill me. Please don’t kill me. I didn’t do anything.”
“Shut up, or I will drop you.”
Miles’s heart stopped. This guy was supposed to be his mate?
Maybe Miles had made a mistake. There were mated pairs out there who killed each other. That happened from time to time. It wasn’t common, but it wasn’t unheard of either.
A dragon who mated with a warlock might just be pissed off enough about that to want to do something about it, to want to end his attachment to Miles and go on with his life.
He converted to Catholicism real quick in that moment and immediately started to pray.
“Renford, why do you want this warlock? What did he do to you?” asked the dragon again, though Miles wasn’t so sure he would be getting any sort of answers out of either of these two. It seemed neither of them were friends he could rely on for anything. He was on his own here.
“That’s not your damned business. Go back to Keagan. What are you even doing out here anyway?”
Miles wasn’t sure what he wanted to happen here other than waiting for Renford to land so he could blast him with the first har
dcore spell he could think of.
Fire seemed like a good idea. Even someone with his training knew a decent fire spell. All the kids learned that one at a certain age when they went out camping.
Miles would get him good, and then he’d make his break for it back to the coven.
If he could figure out where it was. They hadn’t been flying for long, but a lot of ground could be covered real fast in the air.
“Tell me you have no plans on harming him, and I’ll go.”
Renford snapped his teeth. “What do you fucking care? Is he yours or something?”
“No, but he belongs to the coven where my mate lives. So tell me now. I will fight you for him if I have to.”
“Please fight for me,” Miles said without thinking.
“You keep your mouth shut,” Renford said, and there was no way Miles wouldn’t end up with nasty bruising when they landed. Miles’s fingers were starting to feel numb, and that tingling cold sensation was spreading out to the rest of his hands.
He was so screwed.
The other dragon snarled. “Renford—”
“He’s mine, and that’s all you need to know, you fucking little traitor! Go back to your damned warlocks if you love them so fucking much.”
Miles didn’t know what he wanted to happen in that moment.
Renford just said Miles was his, but that didn’t necessarily mean he was safe with him. He couldn’t have this dragon fighting for him in the sky. Miles could fall, and he would die.
Until rescue could come for him, the best thing probably was to let Renford take him off to whatever place he wanted to go.
When they were back on the ground, then Miles could make his move.
Maybe the other dragon realized this was the best course of action, because he grumbled to himself a little, and then gave in.
“I’ll find out if you hurt that male, Renford. If you did, I’ll come and find you, and Keagan won’t be able to help you.”
Wasn’t Keagan the name of the dragon who Arty had mated with?
If this guy knew Keagan and was part of his clan, then why was he being such a dick to Miles?
Renford growled under his breath, but then Marek angled his wings and swooped down, turning hard, and heading back to the coven.
Miles really wished he was going with the other man, but he knew that wasn’t likely to happen anytime soon.
He was pretty much screwed.
Miles was almost too afraid to talk to the other man, to ask him what he planned on doing with Miles when they got to…wherever it was they were going.
This was too fucking much. It really was.
“Are you going to kill me?”
The hesitation didn’t bode well with Miles’s blood pressure.
“No.”
Miles could breathe again, and his heart didn’t feel as though it were being squeezed to the point of popping.
“Unless you test me.”
Aaaaaand there it was. Miles was going to have to kill this guy before he killed Miles.
If he could get a decent hit in. Right now it seemed more likely he was the one who was going to need an obituary.
Chapter Three
It felt as though they'd been flying for hours, but in reality, Miles knew it couldn't have been more than a few minutes. Twenty at the most, but he shivered and felt himself hanging on tight to Renford just for the warmth, forgetting all about the threat of being dropped as he struggled to keep his body temperature at a healthy level.
When they landed, Miles trembled as he sank to the ground. He would have kissed the dirt if he could, but it was warm again now that he wasn't so high up in the sky, the sun still beating down on him.
Renford's shadow passed over him, like a storm cloud blocking out the sun.
Not exactly ominous, but definitely unpleasant as the older man stared down at him.
"I thought you were a warlock. Why didn't you just warm yourself up if you were that cold?"
Miles glared up at him, trying to see better, but with the sun directly behind him, it was a struggle even without his glasses.
"Screw you, asshole. We're not all trained to cast spells like that."
"How are you not trained to do that? You're a warlock. It's spell casting."
Miles pushed himself up to sit on his knees, his entire body still weak and trembling. "It doesn't work like that. There's nuance. Differing levels of study and difficulty."
"It all looks the same to me."
"So just a stupid, giant lizard blowing smoke up our asses so you can get at our land, but what would I know? You're the dragon here."
A rough hand snatched at the back of his neck, gripping tight and yanking him to his feet.
Miles yelped, reaching behind him to get those hands off, but there wasn't much he could do. The grip was too strong, and it paralyzed him as Miles was dragged up to the tips of his toes, forced to look Renford in the face.
Which didn't do much for him since it was things that were up close that tended to get blurry for him when he didn't have his glasses.
He was pretty sure Renford was talking to him through his teeth, if that snarl was anything to go by.
"Don't you ever say anything about dragons. You got me? You don't know a fucking thing about how we work, and I don't need to hear any of this shit from one of your kinds."
Renford shook him a little. "You got me?"
Miles clenched his teeth, grunting through the pain. "Yeah, I got you. Want to drop me already? I don't want your claws in my neck."
A brief hesitation, but Renford did let him go, which was a sweet relief, and Miles almost dropped to the ground again. He would have, if Renford hadn't grabbed him by his arms.
He then started tearing at Miles’s robes.
"Hey!" Miles tried to push himself away from the guy, but there wasn't even a chance.
He couldn't fight off this guy. It was like trying to fight off a steel statue, or a brick wall.
Or a giant, and Renford wasn't that much taller than Miles was.
Stupid dragons and their stupid strength.
Renford ripped at the sleeves. He didn't take them off so much as he tore them open at the seams, and the more Miles fought against him, the worse it got, but he couldn't stop himself.
Then he cried out as Renford grabbed his arms again.
It really fucking hurt! But the claws didn't come out and dig into his skin this time. It seemed as though the other man was just…holding on…
As though he were having a look.
"What…what are you doing?"
Renford was looking. Looking at his handiwork, no doubt. Miles was actually pretty glad he couldn't see so well when things were up close because he was pretty sure he didn't want to know how much of that blueish purple on his skin was bruising. He was hoping it was dirt from Renford’s hand or something.
Renford made a small growling sound in the back of his throat, but he otherwise didn't say anything. He released Miles’s arms, stepping away from him.
"Come on inside. I'll clean that up."
"What? Inside where?"
"Are you blind? Right here."
Miles still wasn't seeing what the other man was referring to, not until he heard the sound of a door opening, and the blur that was Renford stepped into what looked to be a small cabin.
All the way out here? Really? The brown wood had blended into the background, and Miles had mistaken it for the trees.
No wonder, he was barely three steps away from it.
He backed up just a little, and then he could make out the details. His sight wasn't that bad.
He was pretty sure it wasn't.
But yeah, now that he knew the shed was there, he could better pick out the details, and he felt kind of stupid for not realizing it had been there at all.
It looked like a shed. He was pretty sure there were wheels under it. So the guy had either built it and brought it here, or purchased it and drove it out here, or it had been here the whole time.
Miles had heard of people converting sheds to small houses, but still…
"What are you doing out there? Get in here!"
Miles hurried inside.
Only when the door was shut behind him did he think that maybe it had been something of a mistake for him to do this. Maybe he should have stayed outside.
Renford could lock the door and start with the slasher movie murder plot he had going on in his head, but Miles wasn't exactly worried anymore.
Up in the sky had been different, but now…
He shook his head. It was the mating that did it. Just because his instincts pulled at him to trust Renford, to want him, that didn't mean there was anything safe about this.
And he had to remember that if he didn't want to get sliced up and fed to the bears.
Renford sounded less angry now. More reserved as he pulled something out from beneath…a sink?
The lighting in here was good, and things weren't so blurry from those distances, but Miles still had to think about it before he was sure he was looking at the right objects.
Renford grabbed something from beneath it and then pulled something down from the wall. A folding table. He grabbed a stool and took a seat.
"There's another stool on the wall. Grab it and come over here."
Miles moved to do as he was told, figuring the next stool was near the one Renford had grabbed. He found it with only a little sliding around of his hands. It was the darker colored thing on the wall, and luckily, it didn't require much for him to unfold it and have a seat.
"What's wrong with you?"
Miles glared at the man. "I dropped my glasses when you kidnapped me. That's all."
Renford said nothing for a moment. "How bad is your eyesight?"
Miles shrugged. "Things that are close up get pretty blurry. Too far away and it's a bitch and a half, too, but there's a good distance that I can see at. A couple of feet and it's fine."
Renford cursed. "You can't spell your eyes to work?"
Miles was getting real sick of all the strange questions. "You know there's a limit to what magick can do, right?"
Renford's growl didn't exactly sound friendly. "How would I know how this works? Why would I want to know?"
"All right, since you don't know, I'll tell you. Magick can't heal people, we can't make food appear out of thin air, and we can't bring people back from the dead or make them fall in love with each other."