by KC Kingmaker
Levia squeezed my hand. “What is it?” she whispered.
“Hand me your dagger,” I said. “Slowly.”
I heard the tiny blade snick out of its hidden scabbard. She passed it to me with barely a twitch of her muscles.
My eyes locked onto my target, right . . . there!
I held my breath, twisted my body, and reeled my arm around, letting fly the dagger all in one fluid motion.
It careened end over end—
A wild hare hopped in the distance out of its hiding spot in the field. It catapulted out of the air, midstride, the dagger skewering it through the side.
“Whoa!” Levia exclaimed. “Nice shot!”
I let my breath go and followed as she ran and crouched next to the dead animal.
Picking it up by the legs, she grinned widely at me. “Looks like we have our breakfast.”
AFTER A SHORT REPAST that renewed our energy, I dusted my hands off and stared down at Levia, who sat cross-legged against a rock, finishing off her leg of hare.
The sweet smell of cooked meat still lingered near our little campsite. Yes, I was a fire dragon, but I hadn’t needed to shift to start a fire. I still had some skills outside of turning into a gigantic monster.
I hooked my thumbs into my sword belt and stared down at her. “You ready for your training?”
She stared up at me with a twinkle in her eye. “I thought you’d never ask.”
When she stood and drew her dagger, I chuckled and put my hand on hers, rubbing my thumb over her knuckles. My face grew warm at the contact.
“Um, first thing’s first,” I said. “You’re going to need a bigger weapon. Here, take one of my swords.”
“Really?”
“Of course. They mean nothing to me.”
“Ah, right. Only the dragonrune sword does.”
Once she took the sword, I stood behind her and practically breathed down her neck as I propped her elbows, arms, and knees in a fighter’s stance. I saw how the continuous contact affected her, making her squirm and shift her weight ever so slightly, and I had a similar response.
Perhaps this wasn’t such a great idea. It was making me hornier than the spikes on my dragon’s back.
The way the goosebumps popped up on the nape of her neck when my breath caught the shell of her ear . . .
Shit. Stay focused, man.
As I held her arms out in the correct fashion to wield the sword, our body heat twined, my body flush against her backside. “There,” I said softly, my voice thick. “That’s a proper fighter’s stance to take anyone on.”
“And who will I be taking on?” she gasped.
I swiped some of her silver hair to the side. My fingers trailed over the elegant curve between her neck and shoulder. She tensed for a moment before melting in my hand. Her body instinctively pushed back into me, the swell of her ass brushing over my crotch, and I clamped my teeth down to avoid grunting.
“Me, of course,” I whispered. I flung myself away from her before I could get anymore carried away.
I marched across from her then twirled my blade a few times in front of me. “Now then,” I said, clearing my throat of all the pent-up tightness. “Come at me. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
Her eyes narrowed until they were mere slits in her beautiful face. She studied me and I stayed still.
When she charged, I slid a foot back and bent my knee to give myself a sturdy foundation, then raised my sword to await her.
She surprised me, coming in at waist-level—a severe crouch in her posture. I’d never fought anyone who could shrink their body in such a way. I already knew it was her greatest strength.
Our swords collided in a metallic clang that sent birds cawing into the air in the distance.
I pushed off her and easily knocked her blade aside. I swung a few times lazily at her. Rather than parry my attacks, she dodged left and right, her feet dancing madly through the grass.
The entire time she avoided my offense, she met me with an excited grin.
It was alarming, if not contagious.
I smirked. Was she trying to unsettle me? Divert my attention? Because it was working.
A twinge of fire shot through me and I quickened my pace, swinging my sword while advancing on her.
Her smile vanished as her defense became more desperate.
Finally, she couldn’t keep up any longer. She frantically tried to bat my sword away but didn’t have the experience in swordsmanship to anticipate my next strikes.
I sidestepped and brought my sword to her side, stopping it just short of her ribs—
We both froze in place.
I took a step forward, forcing her to backpedal . . .
. . . right over the foot I had placed behind her heel. She plopped down directly on her beautiful ass.
“Hey, what the fuck!” she whined, already righting herself.
I took her free hand in mine and helped her stand. “You wouldn’t want me to go easy on you, would you?” I asked, barely able to contain my smile.
She looked flustered. “Well, gah, I mean, no! But dammit. Try it again!”
We resumed the back-and-forth skirmish for about thirty minutes. I shouted technique and strategy the entire time.
“You are smaller and lithe, so it makes sense to avoid rather than parry. But sometimes, you have to use the steel.”
Plop. On her ass.
“The whole point of having a sword is to keep your distance, which you can’t exactly do with a dagger. I know—you’re not used to it.”
Plop. On her ass.
She seemed receptive to my lessons, but increasingly frustrated, too. The more frustrated she became, the more unfocused she became.
I recalled what I’d told myself earlier: Don’t piss her off!
I was having fun, the excitement no doubt showing in my eyes. That probably vexed her because she couldn’t score a strike on me.
Eventually, she unloaded with a frustrated howl, went for broke, and tossed her blade to the ground.
She charged at me barehanded and tried to tackle me. I couldn’t help but snort as she used all the strength in her body to push me backwards.
I let her win for a few steps, her head shoved into my belly as her nimble arms wrapped around me.
I pretended I was falling backwards.
She pushed harder and I used her own weight against her, flinging her to the ground—gently—and then rolling on top of her.
We rolled around in the grass for a while, each trying to get the upper hand. Even though I could have easily straddled her and won, the closeness of her body pressed against mine was just too enjoyable.
Wrestling with my silver vision was much better than “winning” and proving a point.
Besides, what was the point? I had never been a stoic, placid man—passion and power fueled my desires. So what was I really teaching her here?
I was chuckling, but she was making angry squeaks and grunts. That wasn’t good. I got her in a weak headlock and her voice stabbed a stake through my heart—
“Dammit, don’t patronize me, Coalt!”
I let her go, throwing my arms up with my smile vanishing.
She straddled my hips on top of me, her breasts heaving with labored breath, her glossy hair messy around her face.
Levia pushed my shoulders to the ground and scowled at me, baring her teeth like a wolf.
I stammered. “I-I’m sorry, Levia. I didn’t mean to offe—”
“I win,” she said suddenly. Her scowl turned into a huge ear-to-ear grin as she sat up. She put her hands on her hips. “You should know to never relent in battle, silly. Show your enemy no quarter.” She gave me a sage nod.
I could have howled from the outrage and loveliness of it. My jaw felt firmly detached as I gaped at her.
I was about to retort but she slapped a finger down over my lips and hushed me. I wanted to take her slender finger in
my mouth.
“Let me have this,” she said with a sigh. “Before you try to lecture me about how bad I am at sword fighting.”
When she lifted her finger, my voice was ragged. “You’re . . . amazing.”
We locked eyes and I saw a flicker in hers. With her weight on top of my belly, so similarly to how we’d been in the tent a few nights before, my cock strained against my pants, pushing against the curve of her ass.
Her eyebrows jumped, obviously feeling the pressure I’d built up.
Her mouth made a little surprised “o” and then she abruptly leaned over and kissed me hard on the lips.
She tasted salty and alive, the warmth of her lips stealing my strength. I savored the natural cinnamon of her and inhaled her essence as her tongue swirled around mine.
I tried to tug her even closer—so close her breasts would smash against my chest—clutching both her arms in my hands as she raked her hands through my hair.
Then she withdrew, hastily, and the deprivation of her lips hit me square in the stomach. I could still taste her.
My lust had nowhere to go but out. I uttered a guttural groan from deep within, tortured in the best way at the loss of her touch.
When my eyes opened, she was panting. I knew it wasn’t from our little scuffle through the grass. Her wide eyes looked slightly confused, as if she couldn’t control her body any longer and was at conflict with her own emotions.
But I wasn’t. I knew what I wanted and I wanted it more than ever. I needed it.
Clearing her throat, she gingerly stood from atop me, her thighs squashing together. She presented her hand to me like I had the first time I’d plopped her on her ass.
“Come on, dragon boy,” she said with a rasp. “Let’s get moving again.”
I took her warm hand to help myself up.
“Of course, Levia.” I bowed my head.
Even though she had lost control of herself for a moment, there was still a flicker of lust dancing in her purple eyes.
“Please,” she said, “I like it when you call me Leviathan. It rolls off your tongue nicely.”
She picked up her sword, handed it to me for safekeeping, and wandered past me.
I sighed, watching her hips sashay. Yes, my love, and I daresay it’s not the only thing that will roll off my tongue nicely, if you’ll just give me another chance . . .
23
Levia
I was at a loss what to do. Every time I thought I’d successfully distanced myself from the smoldering dragon shifter, my body betrayed me and I found myself yearning for his touch.
He was being gentlemanly, I suppose, since our little row in the warehouse. He seemed happy to be by my side.
I wasn’t trying to lead him on, but I couldn’t stay away. The force of his will, his baritone voice, his incredibly sexy body, his damnable smirk—it was all too much for me to resist.
I kept gravitating toward him, pushing his buttons with little hand-grabs and cuffs on the shoulder, just trying to touch him any way I could without taking things too far.
But that little roll in the grass, and the subsequent kiss? Yeah, that was probably a bit too far.
The truth was I didn’t want to resist him anymore. Since I’d admonished him he was being reticent to initiate contact. It was up to me.
Now that we had a game plan—which I was surprised he accepted so easily—I tried to keep my eye on the prize: the dragonrune sword. The more I thought about the nameless object, though, the more I realized it wasn’t the real prize for me.
Coalt Firesworn was my prize.
If our scheme went according to plan, I’d never be walking away with the sword. It wasn’t mine to take. But maybe I could still walk away with Coalt himself.
Obviously, I had lied to myself when I’d said I would never forgive him. Yet I didn’t feel shame over it, because something inside me had changed.
I scoffed aloud, shaking my head. I was being silly. A man like Coalt had too many responsibilities to ever be tied down to someone like me. He’d already told me as much, with his need to assert authority over his people, take over as the alpha of the Summer House, and defend his clan against some vague enemy I didn’t know much about.
Oh, and there was the little problem concerning his arranged marriage.
I glanced over at him as we neared the outskirts of the Miran Forest. We had been traveling for hours, my legs were sore and the sun was starting to ebb toward the horizon, but we were finally almost to the trees.
Hot blood rushed through me as I saw him glancing at me, probably from hearing me scoff.
With a bit of coyness from both of us—which was totally unlike us—we averted our gazes.
I bet he’s just as confused about us as I am, especially if we’re truly reaching the end of our quest together.
I never would have expected such a short journey with someone could change my life so completely. My entire outlook had shifted, it seemed, and Coalt was the cause of it all.
I took a deep breath and caught the hints of ancient earth, crisp trees, and tangy sap on the wind. The Miran trees were huge and unique, with twisting, leafy branches that made the forest seem alive with swaying arms.
Gods, I hoped the trees weren’t alive through magic or something, because that was the last thing I needed right now.
I let out a low hum, gawking at the majesty of the thick-boled, curvy-limbed trees. They were closely packed, making any entry into the forest gloomy and menacing.
In somewhat of a delayed response to the little sounds I made, Coalt asked, “Is something wrong, Leviathan? I thought you’d be happy we made it.”
I sighed. Oh, men—to believe I was actually thinking about the stupid trees in front of me.
How was his mind not as scattered and unfocused as mine, considering what we’d just done on the grass? I knew how carnal that kiss had been—and that he agreed with my sentiment—because I’d felt his agreement pressing against my ass like a burning pillar!
My need for Coalt was becoming unbearable.
I awkwardly sidestepped to him. Taking his pinkie in mine with a harmless curve of my finger, the tiny connection sent euphoria flowering to my core.
We gazed together at the giant trees, which made even Coalt look insignificant and small in their shadows.
“I . . . I want you to tell me about this woman, Coalt.” My voice was timid. “If, er, you’re comfortable with it.”
“Dyna?”
I nodded.
He sucked in a deep breath. “If that’s what you wish, Leviathan. But can we walk and talk at the same time? The trees will provide us some cover from night, which is quickly approaching.”
I gave him a small smile. “I forget how easily you get cold even though you’re such a big man,” I said, my tone playfully sarcastic.
“Hey, I’m a fire dragon, not a winter bear. I’m big and strong like a volcano, not a glacier.”
Yes, and he could erupt like one, too.
I took his hand fully in mine. “All right, lava boy. Let’s walk and talk.”
“HAVE YOU HEARD OF EMPRESS Orphea?” Coalt asked.
I hopped over a large root and swiped a branch out of my face to catch up to him. I felt the creepy sensation that I was constantly being watched in this dark forest, but it was probably because of the thousands of fucking bugs buzzing all over the place, nipping at my exposed flesh like tiny leeches.
The conversation was the only good way to try to ignore them.
“Of course,” I answered. “Everyone has.”
Empress Orphea was the queen of the dragon shifters. I knew nothing about her other than that she supposedly ruled over the Dominion with an iron fist, demanding complete subservience, and the dragons absolutely revered her.
“Yes, well, she’s a fraud,” Coalt said simply.
I raised a brow. Okay, maybe not absolute reverence.
I had an inkling Coalt didn’t know where he was leading us, physically—just sending us deeper int
o this stuffy, hazy forest until someone found us.
“The Old Queen Glendriana led the Dominion respectfully when I was a child. I see the way you’re looking at me, Levia—don’t ask why she’s called the ‘Old Queen,’ because I don’t know. She didn’t seem old.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, my father was mated to Queen Glendriana, as were the three alphas of the other Houses. It’s how our civilization works to keep things peaceful—the four alphas align with the queen.
“When Orphea heinously usurped the rightful queen and took the throne, the alphas were relieved of their authority and power over their respective Houses. The new ‘empress’ would find her own mates.”
This was all very fascinating, but, “Excuse me for interrupting, but what does all this have to do with this Dyna woman?”
He glowered at me. “I’m getting to it.”
“My apologies, Vero,” I said with a slight bow and a snicker. It was so easy to annoy him. “Please continue.”
We waded through more thick trees and foliage.
“I am part of a resistance, Leviathan, creatively known as the Resistance.”
Was that a joke? I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or not at his quip, so I just stayed silent.
“The Resistance is a secret collective of dragons from all the different Houses, working in the shadows to depose Empress Orphea. Don’t tell anyone.”
This time I did chuckle, and when he narrowed his eyes on me, I mimicked zipping my mouth shut.
“Our numbers are small but growing. In fact, the Resistance sent me to retrieve my father’s dragonrune sword, hoping it would give me a stronger position among my people.
“Orphea was responsible for the Summer-Winter War. River Winterson, the former alpha of the Winter House, sided with the empress to try and keep his status as the empress’ mate. My father, Dante Firesworn, did not. And they killed each other in the ensuing conflict.”
His voice was choked as he mentioned that. It tugged at my heart. “Oh, Coalt . . .”
“It’s all right. The Resistance would likely never have come to fruition if not for the fracture the War caused. My father died for a good cause.”