Taming My Rebel: A Dragon Shifter Romance

by Sadie Sears

  Yessssss. The little voice hissed inside me, and I automatically looked around for the source of the sound.

  Then I slumped against the wall. I didn’t need to hear him in my head again. Not after so long. If nothing else drove me crazy, that might.

  It’s your true nature. The hiss continued, and I thrust a hand through my hair, raking my fingertips across my scalp.

  A wave of irritation rose within me. My dragon. I huffed out a frustrated sigh. I really couldn’t cope if they both started fighting again.

  Kill her.

  I stood straighter, the idea that she was just down the hall, possibly in bed and all alone, worming its way into my thoughts. It would be so easy.

  So quick.

  And what was one more body over the cliff if Saul had just been on a rampage?

  Yesssss. My demon signaled his approval.

  I walked from one side of my bedroom to the other. Back and forth, back and forth.

  But this was ridiculous. I’d wear my way to the first floor at this rate. Then through to the basement. At the idea of the basement, I grabbed some clothes to work out in and left my room to head for the gym I’d created down there. It was my very own cave, built almost right out of the rock of the cliffs below me.

  It had room for me or room for my dragon, although these days I only shifted when the urge grew so big that I had no other choice.

  A good workout should keep my demon quiet. Or I’d be able to ignore him better, anyway.

  I shoved my earbuds in and approached my punching bag. I needed to beat the crap out of something, and as the only other option to get my demon quiet was to beat the crap out of myself, this would have to do. I set my music at a volume to drown out any voices or whispers and began to punch, focusing on nothing else but my rhythm as sweat beaded on my forehead and my heartrate increased.

  If I’d expected to feel better by the time I drew my boxing gloves off, I was wrong. Confusion buzzed in my tight chest, not helped by my conflicting feelings toward Mae. My dragon wanted nothing more than to protect her, to claim her, to curl itself around her and spend the rest of its life guarding her. It wanted her to love us.

  I wanted her to love me.

  But my demon… It wanted the unthinkable—the thoughts I’d hoped to drown out with loud music and fatigue.

  I slumped to the floor, leaning my back against the rockface wall, allowing the sharp angles to press uncomfortably into my skin, welcoming the external pain that reflected my internal emotional state, allowing at least some transference to take place.

  I needed to make a decision.

  And in the absence of anything else, a pros and cons list was probably the way to go. I swallowed my nausea at deciding Mae’s fate with such a basic and soulless solution. My dejected dragon fed me nothing but disappointment, weighing me down, but my demon simply chuckled, leaving part of me on edge with anticipation. I took a deep breath.

  Right. Mae. Mae. Her voice echoed in my head, but it wasn’t my thought.

  Handing her over to Saul would be, without a doubt, the easiest solution.

  Yesssss.

  It would keep me sweet with him, and he’d pay me. I also wouldn’t be in any danger from his henchman or worse—from his owner. The faceless guy with the agenda I had no knowledge of.

  But keeping her alive and with me…

  Safe.

  The word was a mere rumble, like an extension of my heartbeat.

  What did that mean? What were the consequences of that…that disobedience?

  You’ll pay.

  I shivered. Maybe the price was worth it. I glanced above me at the craggy ceiling, and even through two stories, it was like I could see her.

  Maybe she was worth it.

  Regardless of the consequences.

  5

  Mae

  After he closed the door behind him, I waited a beat to listen for his footsteps moving away, but I couldn’t hear anything—probably because of his damn thick carpets. I curled my toes into them, enjoying the luxury for a moment.

  I hugged his clothes to my chest again, and I breathed in a scent that was pure male and utterly enticing. Warm and a little bit like a wood fire on a cold, clear evening. My skin prickled as I bent closer to the soft fabric, resting my nose against it, and I tried to ignore the sudden rush of heat low in my belly.

  I took a moment to glance around the room. The furnishings were heavy wood and looked quality—a huge bed with four posts reaching nearly to the tall ceiling, and a substantial free-standing wardrobe and desk. Or maybe not a desk. It had a mirror, like where someone would sit to do her make-up or style her hair.

  A soft gray throw lay across the foot of the bed, and I trailed my hand over it as I wandered toward the window. It would be easy to pull back the curtains, but Draven had drawn them for a reason, and it wasn’t just to prevent me from enjoying the view.

  Someone—hell, something was still lurking out there. Maybe. And he was trying to keep me safe. Some instinct wedged that knowledge deep within me, and I didn’t question it. He hadn’t harmed me, even though enough opportunities had presented themselves, but he was still keeping me.

  And having me hole up in his home while I had other places to go and to be wasn’t right. It wasn’t something I could just sit idly by and let happen. I nodded. I needed to leave.

  As I walked toward the entryway to return to the front door, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and stopped. I didn’t want to take a closer look, but I forced myself to turn.

  I had scrapes down the side of my face, and leaves caught in my bird’s nest hair. I looked nothing like the woman who’d left her house… Shit, how long ago was that now? Hours felt like days or years.

  My dress was torn. Kaiden’s dress. Now neither of us would wear it again. Sadness clutched my chest as I continued to give in to the negative voice inside my head, the one that berated me for my appearance and told me I’d never be good enough. And, fuck, my feet hurt. I grinned ruefully as I looked down. They were shredded to hell, but I’d barely noticed while I walked on the softest carpet in the world.

  His clothes still rested against my chest, and my arms still wrapped tightly around them like they were a lifeline. But I couldn’t put them on while I was this dirty. He shouldn’t even have let me in his house while I was this gross.

  I needed a bath. The random desire seized me more strongly than the urge to leave. It didn’t need to be long. Maybe a shower would be quicker. After all, I couldn’t show up at the police department looking like I’d been run over by a hedge, right?

  I didn’t know what I needed. Nothing would truly fix this mess, but an improvement would have to be enough.

  I pushed open a closed door on the other side of the room and entered a small but perfectly formed bathroom. I switched on the water, and before long the air was scented with lemon blossoms and fresh rain. The warm water soothed my aching muscles even while some of my scrapes and cuts stung.

  When I stepped out, I wrapped myself in a fluffy towel before putting on Draven’s clothes. His scent grew stronger as I wrapped myself in it, and I breathed deeply, drawing it into my lungs. It calmed me. His T-shirt fit me like a dress, and I shoved the bottom into the waistband of the oversized sweatpants. It was bulky, but it was better. He’d also included some balled-up socks in the pile of clothes, and I drew them onto my feet, grateful for the extra layer they created over my cuts.

  I looked in the mirror to run my fingers through my hair, separating the strands. My mind drifted back to when I’d made the exact same motions at home before the party. Images skipped through my mind—the people dancing, the strange good-looking guy following me around the room, filming the room, and then the monster. The screaming.

  At least I’d gotten footage of everything. Except now, Draven had my phone and all my proof, so I had no evidence of what had gone down.

  I met my gaze in the mirror and narrowed my eyes as determination filled me. I could do this. I could get ba
ck to town and see the police. I was all the proof they needed.

  I blew out a sigh as I turned away from the mirror and flipped the light off as I left the bathroom. I wanted to stay. Against all of my logic and my reason, I wanted to curl up in the bed and go to sleep. Thoughts of Draven danced through my mind, flickering like the dreams I hoped to have.

  But I couldn’t stay. I had something I needed to do. I needed to leave, no matter the weight in my chest at the idea of walking away. Perhaps Draven could handle things—he said he could, and for a reason I couldn’t place, I believed him. The knowledge that he wanted to help me wasn’t rational, it was just bone-deep. Every part of me knew.

  And regardless of what my… I floundered searching for the word… My soul thought it knew, the police would need to be involved in the situation in some capacity. People had died in an attack. We’d been gathered at that party for one specific reason.

  Massacre.

  A shiver stole through me at the memory, and I blinked back tears. I hadn’t cried yet, and I wouldn’t now.

  I could fall apart once this was all over.

  Once the police had started their investigation.

  Besides, there was always a nagging voice of doubt. I trusted Draven, but I’d trusted people before, and they’d always let me down. The only person I could truly rely on was myself.

  Decision made, I stiffened my shoulders and quietly cracked the bedroom door open. The hallway outside was empty, and the only sound was the quiet shushing noise the door made as it skimmed across the carpet.

  I waited to see if I’d disturbed anything or if Draven would suddenly appear, but he didn’t. I crept down the hallway, away from the amazing window that opened out onto a balcony, half of me longing to stay, to step out onto the balcony myself, but I called on my resolve and walked quietly down the stairs. Although I was almost soundless, I checked over my shoulder and around me because if I could be so quiet, so could someone else, and I wanted to leave without drama.

  Quietly, as I tried to live my life.

  I reached the front door and flicked the locks open before pulling the door open. My fear was a screaming alarm as soon as I opened the door, but nothing happened. I released a slow breath of relief and stepped over the threshold, reluctance making me slower than I’d anticipated.

  Once outside in the early morning gloom, a thin line of blue sky gleamed on the horizon, the only clue a new day was dawning. I ran down Draven’s driveway, his thick socks protecting me from the loose gravel, and spilled out into the woods, avoiding taking the road directly. As long as I followed the general direction of the road, I could remain concealed in the trees and make it back downtown.

  I stumbled over a root and landed on the ground with a thud and exhalation of all the air in my lungs. Dazed, I lay there for a moment before pushing myself up and running off again. I zigged and zagged around trees, always aware of the road on my left.

  Pausing to catch my breath and get my bearings, I rested my hand on the rough bark of a gnarly old oak as I brushed away the loose twigs and leaves my fall had left on the sweatpants. I checked my position in relation to the road again and nodded in agreement with myself before starting off again.

  In the moment I started away, a cracking sound split the silence of the morning and the tree trunk exploded where my head had been only fractions of a second before. A shower of bark chips hit my cheek, and my ears rang with a sound that seemed to have started in my brain.

  I glanced behind me, at the small hole, just able to make out a bullet lodged a short way into the tree. Hell, I was lucky it hadn’t ricocheted right off and hit me in the back of the head. Whoever was out here hunting this morning was using some pretty heavy-duty equipment.

  Automatically, I looked up, following the trajectory line of the bullet, and a movement by a tree not too far away caught my attention.

  A menacing smile on his face, the good-looking guy from the party stepped forward and raised some kind of huge rifle. I didn’t hang around to see where he set his sights. I took off, my breath slamming in and out of my chest as I dodged left and right behind trees, making myself as hard to track with a gun as possible.

  Panic stole all my thoughts, and I checked to my left for the position of the road. If I just followed it, surely I could retrace my steps to Draven’s house, to the only place I felt safe.

  I misjudged a step and bounced off a tree trunk, knocking the air out of me as I hit the ground for the second time this morning. But I didn’t even think about it or pause. I scrambled up and continued to run, fresh panic fueling me as twigs snapped behind me. When I looked at the road again, it wasn’t where I expected it to be, and a tear leaked from my eye as my chest heaved with sobs I couldn’t release. I sucked in a painful breath. Lost. This was worse than last night.

  I’d left only to place myself right back in danger.

  More twigs snapped behind me, closer this time, and I let out an unexpected yelp of sheer fright before finding one last push in my legs, but I couldn’t keep this up. Each breath hurt more than the previous one, and my hope was fading.

  I dodged around another tree, my gaze on the ground to avoid roots, and I hurtled straight into a wall. I rebounded, but arms reached out to catch me before I hit the floor.

  “Everything’s okay. I’ve got you.”

  Oh, thank fuck. I took a moment to ensure my legs could still hold me without their wobble giving away my fear before I yanked myself free.

  “What are you doing?” The words burst from my mouth. “You scared me.”

  He drew his brows down quizzically. “Why were you scared?” His tone held only curiosity, and his eyes were gentle, although the exaggerated rise and fall of his chest suggested some degree of exertion.

  I tucked my hair behind my ear, tugging out a loose leaf as I did. Why was it every time I met Draven, I looked like I’d dressed as the nearest bush? “I thought one of the guys from the party last night was following me, that’s all.”

  He opened his mouth to speak, but I continued.

  “Not the monster guy who attacked everyone. A different guy. He was out here with a gun.”

  If Draven had been about to speak before, he didn’t try again. Instead, I found myself cradled in his arms, my cheek against his chest as he strode through the woods.

  “Put me down.” I pressed the flat of my palm against him, but he only tightened his hold and walked faster until wind whipped past my face, whisking my hair away from my skin in tendrils, and it was like flying.

  As soon as his house came into view, I pushed harder against him and twisted free from his arms, hitting the ground with less grace than I’d planned. He bent forward to scoop me into his arms again, but I scooted away and held out a hand.

  “No. Let me walk, please.” I had to walk because being in his arms felt too…right. “I’m an adult, and adults walk places.” I paused. “Or we’re generally not picked up and carried without permission.”

  Confusion marred his brow again, and he cleared his throat. “In that case, may I—”

  To prevent him from saying anything else and to prevent myself from hurtling back into his arms and making myself comfortable against that broad chest, I turned toward the house and changed the subject. “What’s the plan now?”

  He growled before grimacing, pain flashing across his face as he lurched to one side, and I reached out like I could support him. He breathed heavily for a moment before meeting my gaze.

  “Now, you go back in the house and lock the doors. Try to get some sleep. I’ve got something to take care of.” He nodded and spun away before jogging back into the woods.

  I walked up the two shallow steps to his front door and traced my finger over the rune scratched into the brickwork like someone had written it with a giant claw. It looked like the same shapes as the one I saw in the garage, but I couldn’t be sure without returning to the garage, and I wasn’t leaving Draven’s house again right now. Possibly not ever without an armed guard.
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br />   Whatever was going on up here on the bluff would sure make an interesting story. Perhaps it really was a cult. But as I thought of turning Draven into local gossip fodder to make a quick buck for myself, my insides turned cold.

  Instead of heading straight to the bedroom like Draven had suggested, I helped myself to the cupboards in his kitchen, a strange sense of being at home surrounding me as I pottered among all his things, until I found a jar of instant coffee to scoop into the mugs I’d set on the counter.

  The front door opened and slammed shut, and I didn’t even flinch because somehow, I sensed it was Draven before he even appeared.

  He rounded the corner, head down.

  “Hi—” I’d been about to tell him I hoped he didn’t mind me just helping myself, but he looked up, and I bit my next words off on a gasp.

  “He won’t bother you again.” He stumbled a little as he walked toward me then steadied himself and winced as he rubbed his forehead, his breaths harsh.

  I didn’t respond as I took in his bruised cheek, black eyes, and the graze glancing the edge of his jaw. Red droplets were spattered up his shirt and across his face, and I moved toward him without even thinking about it.

  “Are you okay?” I took one of his hands between mine.

  He tilted his head, the quizzical look back. “I am now.” He slipped his top button open, and my breathing stuttered as he revealed the strong column of his neck. “I’m just going to go and clean up. I’ll be right back. I need to ask you some questions about the party.”

  “I’ll make coffee.” I let go of his hand and waved one of the mugs helpfully in his direction to illustrate what I was planning to do.

  He nodded. “Great.”

  He left, but images of his face all cut up and bruised lingered in my mind. He’d obviously found the guy. Draven didn’t strike me as the clumsy kind, and those were fighting injuries rather than stumbling ones.

  He’d allowed himself to be beaten up in protection of me. A warm rush of affection filled my chest, and I swallowed to push it down. I couldn’t be so attracted to a guy simply because he happened to be kind to me. That was the path of heartbreak. I’d cultivated too many crushes based on a kind gesture.