Dark Dragon's Wolf

by Anastasia Wilde

  her dragon insisted.

  Wait, what?

  Startled, Mayah felt her dragon rise up inside her.

  Magic flooded through her. Her hands lengthened and became huge deadly claws. Her body rippled and grew, great bony ridges rising from her spine. Her tail snaked out behind her, barbed and deadly. Finally, wings sprouted from her shoulders and rib cage, unfurling in the night breeze.

  She was the Darkwing Princess, her iridescent black scales gleaming in the night, reflecting the stars.

  She was strong, powerful, magical, invincible.

  And she had a wolf to save.

  Mayah jumped off the top of the tower and spread her wings, gliding toward the forest.

  Chapter 9

  Tristan’s wolf was deep in the forest.

  No longer just running. Hunting.

  Mayah could still feel him. She knew exactly where he was, how he felt. His emotions were overwhelming.

  I am Wolf.

  Because his wolf could fight the memories. His wolf could kill. His wolf gave Tristan a place to retreat to, when it all got to be too much.

  Except sometimes, he didn’t want to come back.

  her dragon said again. Mayah didn’t remember her being so boringly singleminded before.

  Who said we weren’t going to? But we have to get to him first.

  Because forests and dragons didn’t really go together. Not that she couldn’t knock down trees if she wanted, but branches stabbing through her wings was not fun. And knocking down great swathes of forest wasn’t fair to the birds and animals who lived there.

  She glided overhead, tracking him until he got to a clearing. He’d brought down a deer and was tearing into it, trying to assuage his wolf’s hunger for blood.

  Mayah did a steep dive towards the clearing, the dark trees rushing up towards her. At the last second, just before she hit the treetops, she Changed—and then did a little levitation spell to slow her descent enough that she didn’t break both legs when she hit the ground.

  She landed silently, almost invisible in the dark. We’ve still got it, she said to her dragon. God, she’d missed flying.

  She’d dressed herself when she Changed, embracing the badass with full black leather.

  Tristan noticed her as soon as she landed. The white wolf stopped tearing at the deer carcass and growled at her. She could see his eyes, pure gold and churning.

  “Tristan?” she said. But she already knew he’d disappeared inside the wolf, hidden in a dark corner of his mind.

  “You’re not chasing me off,” she told him. “Forget it. We’re having this out, right here and now.”

  The growl turned to a snarl. He was big—his head would come up past her waist. Tough. Scarred. Heavily muscled.

  His fangs were huge.

  He bared them at her, his snarl growing. She saw his hindquarters bunch, and knew he was going to attack.

  She could have done a stasis spell. Or a shield. She could have protected herself. But she didn’t.

  She braced herself with her dragon strength, and opened her arms.

  He was on her in moments. Hot breath, sharp teeth, nails that gouged at her skin and her leather clothes. He tore through the sleeve of her leather jacket and bit into her arm.

  Fuck. That hurt like fire. Blood gushed down her arm, but she held on.

  She let him take her to the ground, wrapping her free arm around him.

  He loosed her bloody arm and snapped at her neck, but she’d at least had sense enough to give herself a spiked collar.

  He howled in frustration.

  Mayah wrapped her arms and legs around the wolf, holding him to her with all her strength. He writhed, trying to bite her again, and she managed to get one hand clamped around his jaw.

  He fought.

  And she talked.

  “I love you,” she whispered into his scarred white ear. “You’re a good man. A good wolf. You’ve saved lots of people.”

  She got nothing but growls in response.

  She kept talking. “You saved me. When Grange and Johnson were trying to take me back through the portal to Gen-X. You couldn’t get to me, so you attacked them with the only thing you had—your mind. Even though it hurt you. You did that for me.”

  His struggles grew less.

  “And you saved me even before that. When I was sitting in my room all alone. When everything in my head was going crazy, and I couldn’t find my way out of the darkness. You were there.”

  The growls grew less vicious. He stopped struggling.

  “You were there. You came and held my hands, and you looked into my eyes and walked into the dark shadows in my mind and you didn’t even flinch.”

  She stroked his fur, trying to loosen the tension from his muscles, soothe away the growls. “You’re not a killer. You’re a beautiful, brave, strong protector.”

  She stroked his head, smoothed the hackles on the back of his neck.

  “You’re hurting now because of me. Because you hurt yourself trying to save me. So I’m not leaving you alone. We’re going to face down the ghosts and memories together, you and me.”

  The growls stopped. He lay still in her arms, panting.

  After a moment, Mayah loosened her grip, and he struggled to his feet. Now was the moment of truth. She couldn’t hold him forever. He had to make up his own mind.

  To stay, or to go.

  To trust her, or not.

  To fight, or to accept her love.

  Mayah sat on the ground, legs crossed, bleeding from her bites and scratches. It didn’t matter.

  The white wolf backed up a step or two, golden eyes glowing. He looked into her eyes, and she looked back, opening her heart and her mind to him.

  Letting him see the respect, the caring, the admiration, the love. It was all there, if only he would take it.

  He moved forward, then dipped his head, nosing at her arm, still bleeding from the bite wound. He licked it, the way wolves licked their wounded pack mates.

  An apology.

  “I’m all right,” she said. “Look, it’s healing already.”

  He sat on his haunches, facing her. And then, with a shimmer and snap of bones, he Changed. He was naked and dirty and hollow-eyed, but he was there.

  Relief and hope almost made her giddy.

  “You came back,” she said. “I’m glad.”

  “I hurt you.” He reached out to her wounded arm. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  “I told you, I’m okay. I’m a dragon. I’m tough.”

  He shook his head. “It’s still wrong. Wolves protect their—their people. They don’t hurt them.”

  What was he going to say? Their mates? The people they love?

  She said, “You told me once that when you were with the Bad Bloods, your friends used to sit with you when they put you in the crazy shed. Even when you attacked them, they stayed human and took the wounds because you needed to hear their voices.”

  He looked away. “Yeah.”

  “You told me your friend Tank used to follow you through the woods, even when you attacked him. Even when you didn’t want him. To make sure you didn’t hurt any humans or get yourself in trouble.”

  “That’s different.”

  She put her fingers on his chin and turned his head to face her. He always tried to be so strong, but everyone needed people. Why couldn’t he see that?

  “You went with me down all the shadowy hallways of my mind, so I wouldn’t have to be alone with my ghosts. You bled for me, using your mind to fight for me when you couldn’t use your body.”

  Tristan tried to look away, but she wouldn’t let him.

  “Your friends bled for you because they care about you. Why don’t I get to care about you that much?”

  He gazed into her eyes, his finally fading from gold to blue.

  “Do you?” he asked. “Do you care about me that much?”

  In answer, she pulled his face to hers
and kissed him.

  Chapter 10

  Heat flashed between them. Their bodies slammed together—desperate, intense, almost violent. Hungry for each other, from all their lonely years, despair and pent-up desire.

  Tristan was hard for her instantly, like he always was, because she was everything he had dreamed of in his years of captivity. Soft, soft enough to cushion his hard edges, and strong enough to withstand the storm of his pent-up feelings.

  His love and his rage, his desire and his need.

  He needed all of her at once. His mouth moved down her neck and her spiked collar magically disappeared. He kissed and nipped, sucking on her skin, sweeping her hair back to kiss her shoulder.

  The taste of her drove him insane. He wanted to touch her everywhere—the curve of her hip, the heavy round of her breast. She made her top disappear too, and he closed his teeth around her hardening nipple, teasing it with his tongue.

  She moaned.

  Her hands seemed to be everywhere, sliding down his back and over his ass, stroking his pecs, cupping his balls, closing around his shaft.

  Electricity shot up his spine and exploded in his chest. He tipped his head back in pleasure as she stroked him, her touch so intimate it felt like she touched his soul.

  He put his hands around her face, as he’d done when he went into her mind. He wanted to say something, anything, to let her know what she meant to him.

  All the things she’d said. The love and respect she’d shown him. The way she’d been willing to bleed for him.

  But his throat was choked with emotion, and all he could to was tilt her head until their foreheads touched. I love you, he said silently.

  She smiled, tears trembling at the corners of her eyes. Her words dropped into his mind like cool soothing rain. I love you too.

  They were connected.

  He closed his eyes. I want to let you in, but I don’t know how.

  She answered, Kiss me.

  He pulled her down to the ground, wrapped in his arms. The rest of her clothes had dissolved at some point, he didn’t even know when because all he could feel was her skin; all he could scent was her.

  He covered her in kisses—lips, throat, breasts, belly. Licking, biting, devouring every inch of her skin the way his wolf wanted.

  The way he wanted.

  Her thighs parted and her core was molten—hot and wet. He found her most sensitive spot and kissed it, his tongue tasting and swirling. Her back arched and she pressed against him. “More,” she murmured.

  He spread her wide, kissing and licking, sliding his fingers inside her to make her buck against him with renewed pleasure. He needed this, needed her passion, needed her moans and screams of pleasure.

  He wanted to give her everything, make her crave him the way he craved her.

  He felt the growl in her chest, felt the passion rising, felt her come apart, shuddering and shattering. It wasn’t enough. He wanted all of her, needed to be inside her, feel her wrapped around him, her hands clawing his back.

  Her green eyes shone in the darkness. “More,” she demanded.

  She wanted more. She wanted all of him. He understood that now, and it terrified him. Even her holding his wolf, his fangs bared to pierce her neck, was not as terrifying as this.

  “Please,” she whispered. “I need you.”

  That finished him. He plunged into her, taking her hard, aching to be deep inside her, for her to accept everything he was, and everything he’d failed to be.

  Mayah arched her hips, taking all of him, giving a moan of pleasure and satisfaction. She wrapped herself around him, meeting him thrust for thrust, taking him into her body again and again.

  He felt her passion rising, her fingernails raking down his back, her teeth gripping the skin of his shoulder.

  He lost himself in her like he’d always wanted to, her warm wet core sliding against his shaft, bringing him closer and closer to a cliff edge he’d never dared to go near.

  “Yes,” she panted in his ear. “Give me everything.”

  Tristan felt the wave of passion take him. He lost control, becoming nothing but pure sensation. And then he felt Mayah around him, inside his mind, accepting him and loving him.

  He felt lifted up by the dark wind, black wings in the night. The two of them hurtled toward the cliff edge, Tristan holding back, holding back…

  Let go and fly.

  And they were gone. Lightning surged through him, and he gave one final thrust, throwing himself off the cliff and emptying himself into her. Mayah gave a wordless cry and exploded in his arms, clenching around him over and over, her wings keeping him from falling.

  Thunder roared overhead, lightning flashed. It hit the forest floor and crawled over to them, outlining their bodies in a flickering blue light.

  Mayah ran her fingers down his arm, pulling them away slightly to let the blue fire drip back down, merging with the whole. “We’re magic,” she said. “Look.”

  “I can’t see anything but you.”

  Tristan rolled them over, still inside her, so he could see more of her. Mayah sat up, straddling his hips, and arched her back, raising her arms to the wind and the sky. His storm dragon.

  Tristan ran his hands through Mayah’s hair, happy to watch her watching the storm. Lightning flashed again, thunder rolled, and rain began pattering through the leaves.

  “We’re going to get really wet,” he said. Even though he didn’t want to move.

  Mayah grinned at him, resting her hands on his chest. “There are so many ways I could make that dirty, I don’t even know where to start.”

  Her lips were looking irresistible so he pulled her down and kissed them, sucking gently on her bottom lip. Her tiny moan of pleasure made him feel invincible.

  He said, “I’m sure those jokes will be very funny when Emon sees me bringing you back to the castle bloody, bitten, and looking like a drowned rat.”

  “Also looking like I’ve been thoroughly ravished, and liked it.”

  Oh, hell yeah. Ravish her again, his wolf suggested. He could feel himself getting hard again.

  “If you keep saying shit like that, I’m going to have a permanent boner on top of everything else. Do you really think there’s any way Emon’s not going to end up roasting me with dragonfire and devouring my bones?”

  It didn’t matter, though. He’d die a thousand deaths by dragonfire just to make love to Mayah even one more time.

  “I’ll handle Emon,” she said.

  “Yeah. Good luck with that.”

  The rain was coming down harder now, streaking the dirt and blood smearing their skin.

  “I love the rain,” she said. “Don’t you?”

  “When I’m inside,” he said. “And it’s pounding on the roof of my cabin. Yeah.”

  She gave him a lingering kiss, and then got up off his lap. Tristan immediately felt cold and lonely. Shit. Just this one time had completely ruined him. Now he needed to touch her. Preferably all the time.

  Ours, his wolf agreed.

  He should be so lucky. But still, a seed of hope was sprouting in his heart. Because she’d said she loved him.

  Mayah loved him. It was unbelievable.

  She stood up and spread her arms, tilting her head back to the storm. She looked so beautiful, bathed in lightning, with her tawny skin and perfect soft tits he wanted to bury his face in, her round generous hips, her amazing ass, and the shadow of curls between her legs that made him harder just remembering how it felt to be surrounded by her warmth.

  Accepted. Cared for. Loved.

  She twirled in a circle, and then reached her hands down. “Dance in the rain with me.”

  Tristan let her grab his hands and pull him up. “News flash,” he said. “They don’t teach you to dance in captivity.”

  “Everybody can dance, silly wolf.”

  She put one arm around his neck and clasped his hand with the other. She pulled him close and his arm automatically slid around her waist, spreading against the curv
e of her back.

  Skin, acres of soft velvety skin, pressed against him. His shaft was hot and hard between them, and Mayah rubbed up against it like a cat.

  “That can’t be comfortable,” he said.

  “Shut up and dance.”

  She rested her head on his shoulder and hummed in a low, throaty voice.

  Somehow they fit together perfectly, boner and all, holding each other and moving in rhythm, dancing in the rain.

  It poured down, washing the mud and blood from their skin, making them clean and new.

  A fresh start.

  The darkness and rage were still there inside him, like the storm.

  But everything was different. Better.

  And Mayah laughed at storms. Embraced them. The way she’d embraced his wild wolf. Holding on like she would never let go.

  He pulled her closer. Never let go.

  The rain fell harder, plastering their hair to their scalps. Tristan dropped her hand and ran his fingers down her arm. It was clean of blood, the bite nearly healed already. He’d never seen her heal so fast.

  “See?” she said. “No permanent damage.”

  “But I still hurt you,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”

  She leaned back, looking up into his eyes. “It was worth it.”

  Chapter 11

  That completely finished him. He kissed her, closing his eyes tight to keep the emotion stinging his eyes from overwhelming him.

  When he had his shit together, he said, “I hope it’s also worth the long hike back to the castle in the rain.”

  “Let’s not,” she said. “Let’s stay here until the rain stops.”

  At that moment, there was a huge gust of wind, bringing with it a torrential downpour. “Does that really sound fun to you?” he asked.

  She grinned up at him. “It will be. You have no idea of the extent of my superpowers.”

  She backed up and whispered a spell, making a complicated gesture with one hand. A bubble of glowy blue energy shimmered in the air beside them.

  It grew and spread until it touched the ground, the bottom flattening until it looked like a magic igloo, complete with a little tunnel-like protrusion for an entrance.