Читать книгу Dragon's Promise - Denise Lynn - Страница 11
ОглавлениеSean knew Caitlin would be unable to resist his challenge. He relaxed beneath her as she hungrily kissed him, inhaling as much of his energy as she could.
Knowing that a kiss, a drawing in of his breath, would never be enough for her to gain full strength, he slid his hands down the smoothness of her back, chasing the rising goose bumps with his fingertips, and grasped her hips to lift her.
He wanted her healthy and whole—needed her to be at her very best for what was to come. It would take both of them to defeat Nathan and rescue the child. And she would need all the strength she could summon for what would come afterward.
He shifted beneath her and eased her slowly down the length of his erection. Her moan echoed his as she curled her fingers into his shoulders, her nails pressing hard into his flesh.
Sean closed his eyes, savoring what was more than just a physical union of their bodies. This intimate act was more than just a way to replenish Caitlin’s energy, or to satisfy the hunger between them.
It was a way to feed their beasts—to soothe the anger emanating from their souls. The growing heat of their bodies, the touch of their lips, transformed the hurt into a power that could very possibly keep them both alive.
Through a thick fog of desire he heard the security alarm scream from his office down the hall. His cell phone vibrated off the nightstand.
Before he could respond to either, Caitlin rolled off him with a harshly gasped curse. Her wide-eyed gaze flew to the bedroom doorway. “Mother! What are you doing here?”
Sean quickly spelled their clothing back on, swallowed hard and then rose from the bed. He stared at the uninvited, semisolid, still-forming woman walking into his bedroom. “Mrs. St. George?”
His beast twitched, backing away in the same manner it did when confronted by an angry Aunt Danielle. Sean rolled his eyes at the adolescent behavior of his dragon.
Mrs. St. George ignored him. Instead, once fully visible, she pinned Caitlin with a hard glare. “I thought we discussed you having anything to do with this...this vile animal.”
Animal? The dead wife of a vampire thought him an animal? Sean was amazed at the woman’s audacity.
“Like it or not, Mother, he is my son’s sire.”
Narrowing his eyes, Sean frowned at the term sire. He was the child’s father, not his overlord. But that was a detail he’d take up with Caitlin later. For now he chose to silently watch the byplay between the two women. He hoped it would give him a chance to catch his breath and regain some composure.
“This is how you defy the council? They gave you orders to keep your mouth shut and to stay away from this beast. Instead, you lied to us about where you were going and like some cheap whore, come running to the enemy’s bed?”
“He is not my enemy.”
Mrs. St. George flung her arm out and pointed a shaking finger at Sean. “That is a filthy beast. Your father would run him through with a sword and roast him on a spit like the pig he is, if he knew what you were doing.”
The dragon within shook off its initial apprehension at Mrs. St. George’s appearance. He focused his growing rage, intent on self-preservation, on the older woman. Never before had the desire to kill been so strong and overpowering—not even when he’d felt driven to murder his brothers. Who did this...ghost...think she was to threaten him in such a manner? Roast him on a spit? Sean clenched his fists tighter at his sides as he fought the unrelenting urge to shift into dragon form, rear up and do a little roasting of his own.
“What the hell is going on here?” Braeden materialized in the doorway, breaking the beast’s murderous focus by his unexpected appearance. Had Sean been thinking, he would have realized that Harold would eventually contact Braeden, who would then spell himself directly into the middle of the action.
While he was grateful for his brother’s timely interruption, Sean groaned at the speed Harold had obviously used in contacting his brother, instead of ordering the jet. “I’ve got this. Go back to your wife.”
His brother cocked an eyebrow at him before studying Caitlin, who was still on the bed, flushed and looking as rumpled as the sheets beneath her, and then at her mother, who had turned to face him. A smirk lifted the corner of his mouth. “Why, Mrs. St. George, how’s the hubby doing these days? Does his leg still bother him?”
Sean frowned in confusion. His brother drifted into his mind to fill in the missing piece. At the last meeting of the heads of the preternatural families, St. George and I had a minor...tiff. He lost.
Caitlin’s mother stiffened at Braeden’s question and raised her chin a notch. “That’s Baron St. George to you, Drake.”
Braeden leaned casually against the doorway and inspected his fingernails as if bored. “Lord Drake.”
Sean knew his brother’s nonchalant stance was nothing but an act. The deep steadiness of his voice had been a dead giveaway. He waited to see how Mrs. St. George would react to the Dragon Lord’s reminder of who held the higher rank. Regardless of the families involved, St. George was just a baron in his circle, and while titled, he still answered to others. Braeden was the High Lord in his, answering to no one.
Finally, with a look that could kill a mortal, Mrs. St. George dipped her head slightly in deference. “The baron is well, my lord.”
Braeden straightened and walked into the bedroom. “So, anyone care to explain what’s going on here? Why has Lady St. George come to the Lair?” He paused by the bed to stare down at Caitlin. “And why is the dragon slayer’s child in a dragon’s bed?”
Caitlin corrected him. “My father’s daughter is no longer a child, nor is he the dragon slayer. I am.”
Braeden arched his eyebrows at her statement. Before the situation could get completely out of control, Sean insisted once again, “I can handle this.”
Caitlin’s mother visibly shook before exclaiming, “My daughter bore that vile beast’s spawn!”
Sean cringed when he saw Braeden stiffen. This wasn’t how he had wanted his family to find out.
Without asking permission, Braeden stroked Caitlin’s cheek. His touch lingered far too long for Sean’s comfort. He might not have been born a preternatural, but he knew enough about his brother to realize Braeden was mining information whether Caitlin wanted him to or not.
Finally, after what felt like hours, but was in fact mere seconds, Braeden lowered his arm and turned to glare at Sean. It was obvious from the darkness of his eyes and the tick in his cheek that he knew everything. “Could you have been any more foolish?”
“I...” Sean trailed off at the elongating of Braeden’s pupils. Now was not the time to poke a stick at the one being that could kill him and his child’s mother in the blink of an eye.
“You do understand what this means?”
“Yes.” Of course he did.
Now.
He was mated...
For life.
Not only was the child his responsibility, so was the mother. Getting Caitlin to understand that would be the questionable part.
“Good. Have you thought about getting into Nathan’s stronghold?”
“Haven’t had time yet. I was seeing to another...problem first.”
Braeden shot a hard gaze from him to Caitlin and back. “And you thought relinquishing a portion of your own strength would help the situation?”
His dragon bristled at the insinuation of weakness, but Sean wasn’t going to argue this with his brother at this very tense moment. So he simply nodded.
Thankfully, Braeden didn’t press the issue. Instead, he said, “This explains your need for a jet. Mine will be ready within the hour. In the meantime, figure this—” he paused to wave a hand between the two of them then continued “—problem out. I’ll head back to Mirabilus and nose around Nathan’s stronghold. Either I, or Cam, will be in touch.” Braeden nodded toward the older woman. “For future reference, whatever you do, don’t let her, or her husband, get anywhere near my nephew.”
Sean opened his mouth to ask why, but before he could utter a single syllable, Braeden was gone.
Still refusing to meet his gaze, Caitlin’s mother stepped closer to the bed. Addressing her daughter, she said, “I will not have some beast telling me what I can or cannot do.”
Beast? She called the Dragon Lord a beast in his own home? Sean had reached the limit of his patience. “Get out.” When she didn’t move, he let his dragon give the order. “Get. Out.”
The raspy, deep command got her attention, although not in the manner he’d intended. She turned to look at him with all the concern of someone being pestered by a gnat. “I beg your pardon?”
Her shoulders sagging, Caitlin implored the older woman, “Mother, please, just go.”
“Not without you, I won’t. Your father has secured Baron Derek’s signature on the prenuptial agreement. It seems that after careful consideration, and a substantial increase in the dowry, the baron is willing to ignore your childish escapades this last year. Besides, the elders have located a suitable family for the bastard you bore, and they’ll be at the manor the day after tomorrow to collect him.”
She turned to address Sean directly. “Now, if you’ll just hand over the items we need for the ransom, we’ll be on our way.”
The woman couldn’t be serious. He glanced at Caitlin, but she kept her head lowered, refusing to meet his gaze. They were going to give the baby to strangers? Just like that? Without even consulting him first?
It wasn’t as if the two of them were too young or immature to care for a child. And it most certainly wasn’t as if either one of them couldn’t afford to care for the baby. There was no logical reason to give the child away to strangers. And to talk about it so callously, as if they were doing nothing more than giving away a lamp, was more than he could tolerate.
Rage burned in his chest. But he didn’t know who he was angrier with—Lady St. George for her unforgiveable rudeness, or Caitlin for acting as if this was all fine with her. He could deal with Caitlin later. Right now, however, he wanted her mother gone.
Sean didn’t bother trying to hold his temper. The woman didn’t deserve any type of restrained behavior from him. She could count herself lucky that he didn’t unleash the dragon spitting and snarling inside him.
He strode across the room until he stood between Caitlin and her mother. Staring down at her, he once again ordered, “Get out of my apartment. Get out of the Lair. Now!”
She sighed and then motioned Caitlin to join her. “Come, it is time to leave.”
“No!” Sean yelled at her while reaching back to hold on to Caitlin’s shoulder, keeping her pinned in place on the bed. “You, get out of here. She stays.”
Lady St. George’s eyes widened, and she grew more opaque with each passing second. Right before she completely disappeared, Sean said, “And don’t come back.”
“That wasn’t necessary.”
Sean spun around to look down at Caitlin. “I didn’t ask for your opinion, did I?”
When she rose from the bed, he asked, “Where do you think you’re going?”
“They aren’t going to let me stay. I need to go home.”
“Let you stay?” He didn’t even try to hide the sarcasm in his voice. “What are you, ten years old?” Sean pointed at the bed. “Sit down. You aren’t going anywhere.”
“But—”
“But nothing.” He interrupted her. “Oh, that’s right, Baron Derek is waiting for you.” The physical act of simply saying those words aloud sent the beast into a raging fit.
She shrugged her shoulders and said nothing.
“What makes you think I’m going to let the mother of my child marry another man?”
“What do you care? It’s not as if I was ever going to marry you.”
Sean laughed at her. “Oh, darlin’, I don’t remember asking you to marry me.”
“Then what the hell are you talking about?”
He hadn’t planned on giving her the news in this manner, but now was as good a time as any. “Didn’t your daddy tell you? Must have been an oversight on his part. Why do you think he’s so anxious to get you wed to someone else?”
She sighed and looked away. “Because he’s tired of hearing others talk about his daughter in such a degrading manner.”
“Yeah, right, Caitlin. You know better than that. Do you really think St. George cares what anyone else says or thinks?”
“When it comes to me, yes, he does. He hates the dishonor I’ve brought to his door.”
“You brought a baby to his door—my baby. Since when is there dishonor in creating life?”
“When that life is conceived out of wedlock and isn’t of royal blood, there is plenty of dishonor.”
And here he’d always thought Braeden had cornered the market on acting like a medieval lord. Apparently, he’d been wrong. Sean made a show of looking around the room. “In what century do you people live?”
She raised her hands, only to lower them back onto her lap. “You don’t understand.”
“Oh, hey, I get it. Wealth and power don’t replace titled nobility in your little world.” He moved closer to her. “Actually, it’s you who doesn’t understand. The reason your father is marrying you off as quickly as he can is because he knows that dragons mate for life.”
“Mate?” She jumped up from the bed and glanced toward the door. “You talk like an animal.”
“Of course I do.” If she thought she was going to make a break for it and get out of this room, she was sadly mistaken. He stepped close enough that he could feel her confusion. “Do you forget what I am?”
Before she could answer, the wispy form of his dragon rose up from him, surrounding him. He stood in the center of the smoky creature and stared at her as his beast leaned forward to capture her gaze.
Spellbound by the glittering stare holding her captive, Caitlin shivered at the display of control and power before her.
Sean crossed his arms against his chest and asked, “Are you afraid, Caitlin?”
The beast lowered its head, sniffing her, chuffing her scent, and then rose up, its mouth open, fangs bared, growling in obvious displeasure.
“You should be afraid. Far more afraid of me than you are of your parents.”
Caitlin respected her parents, didn’t want to disappoint them any more than she already had and yes, to a certain extent, she did fear their wrath. However, her fear of him had the added element of possible death—hers. Summoning as much bravado as she could, Caitlin stared at him, asking, “You plan on terrifying me to prove that point?”
“No. But you need to understand there are no options for you.”
“There are always options.” There had to be.
“No.” He circled her slowly, his beast moving with him. “Any option was lost when you carried the child to term. Had we not been mated, it’s doubtful you would have been pregnant in the first place and even if by some chance you had, you would have lost the baby long before it was born. It’s the nature of the beast—a way to prevent unwanted changelings.”
A tiny part of her mind wondered if that was the reason her parents had essentially locked her away during her pregnancy. Since she had been ravenous the entire time, they’d said it was to protect the human population. Had they lied? Had it been done in hope that the baby would perish? No. She swatted down the thought. Even though they had withheld this mating information, she was certain they would never stoop so low. “Even if that’s true, and we are...mated...it doesn’t mean we have to have anything to do with each other once Sean is rescued.”
“True. You’re right.” He agreed with her but then added, “However, there are two problems with having no contact. No matter what happens, you will never marry another man. Ever.” The smooth curve of a talon traced her spine, making her shiver with fear and unexpected longing. “Do you understand me?”
“No. I don’t. That doesn’t make any sense. We aren’t in love. We have no intentions of marrying each other.”
“Perhaps not. But dragons mate for life.”
He’d already said that. “And?”
“I can never take another mate while you live.”
She closed her eyes. This was too much. She heard his words, but they made little sense. Pinning her gaze back on his, she asked, “So, if I don’t stay with you, you’ll spend the rest of your life alone?”
“Since I have no intention of raising a son without a mother, no, I would not live alone.”
That meant— Her mind screamed. Wait a minute! No. He couldn’t be serious. Could he? She felt as if she were choking on her own breath. “You would kill me?”
He lifted one eyebrow. “How dark is that cave where your mind goes?” He shook his head. “No, I have no intention of killing you. But you are my mate. You are my child’s mother. And that’s where the second problem comes into play. If you want to see the child grow up, you’ll need to live here and trust me, you aren’t doing so with a husband in tow.”
Her stomach knotted at the implication. “Are you planning to take him away from me?”
“Absolutely. He is mine.” A low, menacing growl raced hot against her ear. “What do you care? You were going to give him to strangers.”
She trembled with dread. Her heart ached at the idea of losing her son forever. “That wasn’t my idea.”
“I didn’t hear you argue with your mother about it.”
Argue with her mother? That would have been a fine waste of time, since the woman would have simply ignored her. Never, for one second, had she worried about giving her son away—she’d had every intention of escaping with him and disappearing for good. “You don’t understand.”
“What don’t I understand? That you were going to give my child to another family in the St. George clan?” His voice was tight with what she recognized as anger. “What were they going to do with him?” He grasped her arms and threw her mother’s words in her face. “Run a sword through him and roast him on a spit like a pig?”
“No!” She tried to jerk free. “It’s not like that.”
“Then tell me what it is like.” His hold on her arms tightened. “Tell me how much love and affection the child would have received from a clan who so obviously despises what he might become.”
“Stop it. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“It does make me wonder, though. Would you have attended the child’s funeral wearing black? Would you have mourned his death? Or would you have avoided the event altogether?”
Her heart beat hard and fast, making breathing difficult. The smooth huskiness of his voice, more beast now than man, frightened her more than she ever thought possible. She kicked at him, twisted her arms to claw at him.
He threw her onto the bed, landing on top of her. She swung her fists. When he did nothing more than laugh, she bared her fangs and hissed.
Sean nearly laughed in her face. “You want fangs?” He turned her head with the palm of his hand, shoving her cheek into the pillow, holding her still, and sank the tip of his fangs into the tender curve where her neck met her shoulder.
His bite laced anger through Caitlin’s growing horror. She struggled to shove him away, but he tightened his hold, sending a wave of pain shooting across her shoulder.
“Let me go.”
His beast only growled, making her wonder who was in control—the man or the dragon.
Immortality had been her birthright from her father. She’d always taken comfort knowing that outside of having her heart, or head, ripped from her body, or starving to death, nothing would end her life.
However, with Sean’s deadly fangs lodged so close to her neck, her immortality was in grave danger. The sticky warmth of her own blood soaking into her clothes only served to confirm the danger.
Submit.
The deep raspy voice of the beast flowed into her mind. But submitting to him wasn’t an option. While the Drakes and St. Georges may have become slightly more civilized these last few centuries, after today that would change.
Her resistance gained her another deeper level of pain as his jaw tightened and he shook her.
Submit.
How? Caitlin sobbed at the futility of trying to fight this beast.
Caitlin, for the sake of our child, submit.
This deep voice, while still raspy and hoarse, did not contain the undertone of a beast. It was human, and its plea touched not just her mind, but something deeper, too.
With a sob, she fell lax beneath him.
After one final halfhearted shake, he gentled, releasing her, then soothing her injured flesh with his tongue, wiping away the blood and the pain as he tended the wound. His touch knitted muscle and flesh until it was once again whole.
Satisfied the injury had been healed, Sean lifted his head to look down at her and warn, “Don’t ever fight me again.”
“You have to be kidding. I’m supposed to bow to your every whim out of fear for my life?”
He heard the angry bravado in her trembling voice. Relieved that her terror had begun to subside, he lightened his tone. “See how easily you understand?”
“You are not some commanding deity that I need to mindlessly obey.”
“Damn pity. However, it doesn’t change the fact that I am responsible for your well-being and safety. It’s instinctual. Things will go easier for you if you just do as you’re told.”
When she didn’t respond to his flippancy, or statement of fact, he rose from the bed. “I need a minute alone, and I’m sure you could use some time to yourself, too. But we obviously have a plane to catch, so be quick.” He glanced around the bedroom. “You said your luggage was in your car?”
She nodded and Sean headed toward the door. “I’ll have it sent to the plane and your car parked in the garage. Join me out front when you’re ready.”
Caitlin waited a few minutes after he’d left the room before she rolled over and buried her face in the comforter on the bed. Why had she come here? What made her think that Sean would help her get their son back without any conditions of his own? She’d known he was a dragon changeling. She also knew what that meant—demanding, possessive and oh, so arrogant in his assumption that he alone was right. Yet she’d never had so much as a second thought about coming to him.
Her breath hitched, and she swallowed the urge to cry. Was her son warm? Was he dry? Had he been fed? Did they hold him when he cried?
They wouldn’t know that he didn’t like to be rocked; he’d rather be bounced. So if they rocked him, it would only make him more upset, more agitated. What if his anxiety was more than they could handle and prompted them to do something horribly reckless?
* * *
Dozing in the corner of the ancient puzzle box, Aelthed opened his eyes and tilted his head to one side with a frown. Something was...different. There was a certain something in the air swirling about his eternal jail.
It felt like... He leaned forward, his arms wrapped around his bent legs, studying the chemistry in the air. It felt like animal lust.
Need.
Desire.
He shook his head. From where had this emotion come? Who was the object of such primordial passion?
Even after more than eight long centuries of captivity, he understood and recognized the intense longing that charged the air swirling about him like lightning in a thunderstorm.
The dragon twins were already mated, so neither of them were the target. And he knew that it was not Danielle Drake. Her passion was for him, and it felt warm, comforting, enticing and nothing at all like this brewing storm.
“No.” Aelthed rose and paced, hoping the movement would clear his mind of what was impossible. “It can’t be.”
The newest changeling wasn’t a dragon born. It couldn’t be him. His beast and power came from a curse alone, not from family blood. So why would that dragon’s emotions flow all the way from Dragon’s Lair to Mirabilus, into his cell and mind? Unless... Aelthed frowned. Was there more to this curse than he’d first feared?
Sending his thoughts out into the air, he whispered, “Danielle, come, talk to me.”
Just saying her name eased the tension from his body and the frown from his face. Danielle Drake possessed far more than just guardianship of his prison—she possessed his heart. Since he’d forced himself into her hands a couple years ago, he’d come to care for her deeply and he was well aware she shared the same feelings for him.
After Nathan the Learned had dropped the box that kept Aelthed imprisoned at the feet of the Dragon Lord’s wife, Alexia, they had put him in the basement with their weapons and forgotten about him. Which suited him fine, because it gave him the chance to listen and learn.
When it became necessary to gain assistance, he’d sought out Danielle Drake. Aelthed laughed softly remembering the first time he’d spoken to her. At that moment he’d been grateful for two things—that Danielle was telepathic and that his nephew Nathan had kept him updated on the current languages through the decades. Otherwise he never would have been able to converse with the woman.
He might have only been a spirit imprisoned in a puzzle box, but that didn’t stop him from noticing how beautiful she was with her womanly curves and long raven tresses. He’d been drawn to her from the first moment she’d touched his box and made him gasp at the warmth that had flooded through him.
She was so easy to talk to, quick of wit and old enough to know her own mind. Which she had to be, considering she’d raised her three nephews alone after their parents had been killed at Nathan’s hand. It was a shame she’d never married, never had the opportunity to share a life and experiences with someone her own age. But she’d insisted more than once that her life had been full and she was content with her lot—especially now that she had Aelthed to share her joys and troubles with.
He’d once lamented the huge difference in their ages and she’d laughed at him. While it was true that he was over nine hundred years of age and she only sixty-two, he’d only lived as a man for eighty of those years. As far as she was concerned, he wasn’t all that much older.
He didn’t argue with her logic, because it made no difference while he was locked in a wooden cube.
Within moments, he felt her warm touch on the box as she lifted it from her nightstand. “What is it, Aelthed? What do you need?”
He shivered at the low, seductive timbre of her voice. Oh, to be alive again, to be a man capable of gathering her into his arms for an embrace, a kiss, a prelude to making love. A wry smile briefly crossed his lips. Dreams and wishes were all he had and of late, they weren’t nearly enough.
Opening his mind to his surroundings, he brought her into view. He nodded with approval at the way she’d been wearing her hair down lately, instead of twisted up into a tight bun. She looked younger, more alive with the raven tresses streaming along her back. Forcing his attention back to the subject at hand, he asked, “Your nephew, the youngest one, is he still back at Dragon’s Lair?”
He felt the woman’s hesitation before she answered, “Yes, he is.”
“And tell me, Danielle, what troubles him?”
She sat on the edge of her bed and sighed. “I’m not sure of all the facts since Braeden just returned from the Lair. But it seems Sean got a vampire’s daughter pregnant. She had a son, and he’s been kidnapped.”
A vampire? The changeling lusted after a vampire? “Good heavens, not St. George?”
“Of course. Would one of the Drake boys choose anyone...normal?”
Aelthed chuckled at her long-suffering tone. Even though she’d done a fine job, she never should have had to raise three Drake males on her own. “No. It would make your life all too boring if they did.”
Danielle nodded in agreement. “I suppose so.” She placed the puzzle cube on a pillow and stretched out on the bed. “So, what can you tell me about St. George?”
“Well, it’s your great-great-great-grandsire’s fault that he’s a vampire. If I recall the rumors correctly, the two of them got into a fight—the dragon and the dragon slayer—and when the dragon managed to knock the slayer out, he left the man tied to a tree in the forest assuming someone would come along and free him.”
“I can guess the rest.” Danielle snorted. “He was found by a vampire, not another human.”
“Yes. Which explains the deep-seated hatred between the two families.”
“Not that they ever would have been the best of friends in the first place.”
“Perhaps not, but we can do nothing about the past. Only the future. How did the cursed changeling get a vampire pregnant?”
“She’s not exactly a vampire. Braeden says she’s a succubus.”
Aelthed considered that possibility then shook his head. “Doubtful. I think the Dragon Lord may be mistaken on this one. Although I am willing to guess that if she’s not a full blood-sucking vampire, that she may be a psychic soul-sucking one. Does she have fangs?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t met her.”
“This babe she bore, is it human—or otherworldly?”
“I’m not sure.” Danielle shook her head and sighed. “But since its mother isn’t human, doesn’t it stand to reason that the babe might not be, either?”
More to himself than anyone else, Aelthed mused, “I wasn’t thinking of the mother.”
Danielle’s frown deepened. “Surely you don’t think this curse on my nephew carried over to his child?”
“Considering the oddities of late, it’s something we need to consider.” Even though Aelthed could already guess her answer, he had to ask, “I don’t suppose you know if the babe has shown any habits that might be considered...purely Drake?”
“I can’t answer that, either. I know nothing more than you.” Danielle picked up the cube and held it out before her. “Right now all I know for certain—” she drew the cube closer and then dropped her voice to little more than a whisper “—is that your nephew, Nathan the Learned, has the child and is using him as leverage to get his hands on the grimoire...and you.”
