Fireblood Dragon: Fire In His Blood Part 4

My mind is racing. How is it possible that the dragon is now human?

The man-dragon straightens, and I get a full-frontal view of...well, everything. Did I say he was built like a museum statue? I don't remember them having such big, uh, equipment. In every other way, though, he's just like them. His body is a smooth ma.s.s of golden muscle and planes. His shoulders are wide, his hips tapered, and like the statues, he doesn't have an ounce of body hair or fat. He's perfect. On parts of his body, the pattern on his skin that I'd mistaken for scales is actually a rippling shadow. Other parts of him like his lower arms and back - seem to be more heavily scaled. When he bends an elbow, I see spikes flare out from his skin.

And I can't stop staring lower, because he's also sporting a very large erection. When he bends back over me, his d.i.c.k nearly stabs my side. He's hairless there, too. The scale pattern is thicker here, almost upraised along the shaft of his c.o.c.k, and the head of it seems to be a thick, rigid mushroom shape that's frilled with scales on the edges.

Okay, I've never seen that on a statue.

He reaches for me, nostrils flaring, and drags his hand over my neck and down my front, heading for my b.o.o.bs. There's no mistaking the look on his face-he doesn't want to be buddies. He wants to f.u.c.k.

I flinch and bat his hand away before he can touch me any lower. "No!"

The man-dragon snarls at me, his lip curling to reveal fangs. He reaches for me again, as if my preference to not be raped is some kind of nuisance.

"No!" I slap his hand away again and then cringe when his incredulous, furious gaze meets mine. It's almost like he's silently saying 'how dare you?'

But I'm going to be eaten, and I'm pretty sure I don't want to be raped first. Pretty d.a.m.n sure.

He growls low in his throat again and tries to touch me once more. Before he even makes it to my skin, he looks up at me, waiting to see how I'll react.

"No." For a third time, I push his hand aside. It's like he's testing me to see what I'll do. "Don't kill me," I whisper. "Okay?"

He draws back his hand. The strange dragon-man studies me with those intense, double-golden eyes, the possessive, hungry look there giving way to a dawning comprehension. "No," he says, echoing the thought, as if he's surprised by it. As I watch, he studies his hand, spreading and flexing his fingers as if they are utterly foreign to him. I can't help but notice that they're tipped with rather vicious-looking bronze claws. He flexes his hand once more, then reaches for me again. "No?"

There's a wealth of pain and longing in that one syllable, so much that emotion catches in my throat. It's like he's found the one thing he's ever wanted and it's being ripped from him. Disturbed, I shake my head, my heart pounding so loud I can barely think. "No."

He studies me for a moment longer, face a mixture of frustration and need, and then curls his clawed hand shut.

I can't help but flinch backward.

KAEL.

She is frightened.

Of me.

The concept is inconceivable. That I should find my mate-so bright, so beautiful, so perfect-and she should be afraid of me. Her brightness sings in my soul, pus.h.i.+ng back the dark madness that even now eats at my edges. The sight of her keeps it at bay, though. The sight of her makes my senses return.

And she is refusing me. She is afraid.

Pain flares through me, hard and real. I want her with every fiber of my being. I need her. She has called me from the darkness, bound me to her with her sweet scent and gentle voice. I want to lower my body over hers and mate with her. Touch her and feel the softness of her skin against mine. Give her pleasure in any way I can. Feed her, take care of her.

Claim her.

It has been a long time since I have seen a female in this form. I think. The madness makes it hard to remember, and my thoughts are full of blood and fire and not much else. She is not of dragon-kind. All of our females that came through the tear have succ.u.mbed to the madness like I have. It does not matter to me that my mate is not dragon-kind, though. She is mine. That is all that counts. My body grows fiery with a new kind of need-that of mating. Of claiming.

She is female. Lovely. Fertile. Mine.

Terrified, too, and that presents a problem. Even now, she edges away from me. Her eyes are wide with terror, her form trembling. I study her, and the longer I gaze in her direction, the more frightened she becomes. Experimentally, I reach for her, and she huddles backward, desperate to escape my touch.

The madness flares again, like fire bursting in my mind.

Darknesshungerkillangerfrustrationragedarkdarkdarkragehungerfrenzyragedarkness I suck in a deep breath, because so quickly, I am already back on the edge. One step forward and I can slip back into madness. But as I breathe in, I take in her scent. It is clean, and sweet, and feminine...and mixed with the bitter taint of terror.

I hate that smell on her. I want to smell her desire. Her happiness.

Does she not realize that I would never hurt my mate? Not even in the darkest hours of my madness?

But even as she crawls away from me, the hunger threatens to return. If I do not claim her, another might take her from me. If she is not mine...the madness will return. Only a mate can banish the darkness from my head.

I must do something.

I cannot help myself. I reach for her again, needing to touch that velvety skin, so very different from my own. She is so smooth, so soft. She flinches and turns away, and her lovely warm scent grows thick with fear. Madness churns inside me again, this time crossed with self-loathing. I cannot-will not-touch her while she fears me so. I close my eyes, willing the gnawing madness away. Only for a little while.

Pull her close. Taste her. Bury yourself inside her. Fill her with your seed. Claim her as your mate. Do it. Take her. Fill her veins with your fire.

No. Not yet.

First I must find a way to calm the fear that is choking her.

I get to my feet and step away from her. Walking in my old form feels different, but good. It has been a long time since I have experienced my two-legged form, and it feels like stretching unused muscles. I must walk away from her, though. If I stay close, I will not be able to resist touching her...and then she will fear me forever. Just the thought of sinking myself into her...

Darknesshungerkillangerfrustrationrage No.

I think of her softness. Her scent. I close my eyes and picture her pale, round face, her eyes bright green. I like their brightness. I will think of them when the madness creeps in. I take a deep, calming breath. How can I make her happy?

Ah, yes.

I will feed her. That will bind her to me. She will see that I can provide for her, that I am strong and fierce. That I can protect her from any others that would try to claim her. Under my wing, she will no longer be afraid, and she will sweetly succ.u.mb to my advances. She will bare her soft body for my claiming, and her green eyes will be bright with pa.s.sion when I push into her- Darknesshunger- No.

My mate comes first. With the thought of her in mind, I glance back. She's sitting up now, curled protectively around herself. Her face is hidden under her bright, enticing red hair. I focus on that bright splash of color, feeling need race through my body- But then I notice her s.h.i.+vering. Still frightened. I growl low in my throat at the sight. My mate should not be afraid.

I will fix this. I will show her she never needs to fear me.

I walk slowly to the edge of the crumbling tower and leap off. Instinct surges, and my form s.h.i.+fts instantly back to dragon wing and dragon scale. The moment I do, the wildness and the rage consume my mind. Darknesshungerkillangerfrustrationragedarkdarkdarkragehungerfrenzyragedarknessviolencekilldestroy A small sliver of light remains in my mind-green eyes-and I cling to it through the fever of my thoughts. I flex my wings and dive deep, in search of something with which to feed my mate.

6.

CLAUDIA.

The dragon is...gone? I stare at the open expanse of sky in a mixture of disbelief and wonder.

No way.

I get to my feet slowly, my knees wobbly. It doesn't seem real. It's almost like if I close my eyes, I'm going to feel his big nose sniffing my hair, moving over me. I shudder, hugging my shoulders. I expected to be dead by now. The moment the soldiers hung the red banners, I knew I was a goner. I've been through countless dragon attacks over the years. I've seen the destruction they can wreak. I've seen people carried away in the mouth or claws of a dragon, and they never come back. Probably eaten.

So why didn't this one eat me?

Or better yet...how the heck did it turn human? I can't stop thinking about that. I'm twenty-four years old. The dragons destroyed everything seven years ago. Between now and then, with my hardscrabble life, I thought I'd seen everything there was to see. Every depraved sort of action, every death imaginable, every dragon attack. But I didn't know they could become human.

More than that. He'd looked at me with intelligence in his gaze. He spoke to me.

Who-or what-was he?

I'm glad he's gone, but I'm full of questions. Is he a shapechanger? Is this one not really a dragon and that's why he's not in pattern with the others? Or are they all shapechangers?

Oh G.o.d. Can all of them speak? Are they all intelligent? It's never even crossed my mind that they might be smart underneath all that viciousness. I've thought of them more like...sharks or snakes or some other nasty predator. I've never considered there might be a person underneath it all. That makes the destruction and rampage all the worse.

And yet...the man-dragon I met didn't kill me. He hadn't even hurt me. He'd touched me, and when I told him no, he pulled away.

He was almost kind.

Almost.

Is this how the girl from Fort Orleans tamed a dragon? She met him as a human? I think about the man-dragon and his really, really naked body with his really, really big equipment and the really, really possessive look in his eyes. I'm pretty sure he didn't want to play checkers with me. Did...did the Fort Orleans girl 'tame' the dragon with s.e.x?

Was that what they expect me to do?

Are they fricking crazy?

I can do a lot of things to save my hide, but I'm not sure I can do that.

I take a few steps forward, scanning the skies for a flash of golden wing. Nothing. He's gone, then. He might be gone for good. I've possibly missed my window of opportunity to 'tame' him with my v.a.g.i.n.a. Yeah, not like I was planning on doing that. Besides, Fort Dallas and its citizens sure were quick to throw me to the dragon. I don't plan on helping them ever again.

All I care about is Amy and Sasha. I need to get free from here, retrieve them, and then figure out what to do next. Maybe we can hightail it down to Fort Orleans. Maybe we can hide out in a safe place and wait for a brave nomad or two to swing through the area again and hitch a ride with him. As long as I have a plan of action, I'm good.

And none of my plans involve sitting around here waiting for another dragon to come by.

I move to the pole that I'm chained to and tug on the cuff binding me there. Still solid. d.a.m.n. That sucks. I was hoping I'd missed something in my panic. Guess not. I stare at the cuff on the pole and then look around for something to use as a saw. I find a long, thin piece of metal as wide as my finger and grab it. It won't work as a lockpick or a saw, but I jimmy it in between my ankle and my cuff and push against the two, hoping to somehow stretch the metal. It's a long shot, but it's what I've got. My ankle's bleeding and the cuff gets slippery, but I keep going. There's no option to stop. I have to get out of here.

I have to get back to Amy.

As I work, I can't stop thinking about the dragon. The guy. Whatever. I had no idea they were human...or could pose as human. I try to think-have I seen anyone in Fort Dallas with golden hair, golden skin, and golden eyes? I don't think so. But if the dragons have a human side, maybe we can communicate with them and ask them not to attack the city.

Then again, why do I want to save the city? Those a.s.sholes left me for dead. A friend sold me out. The guards didn't help me. The mayor thought I was a piece of s.h.i.+t criminal. No one's on my side. I rub my ankle, smearing blood everywhere. To be fair, the captain hadn't been happy to leave me up here.

To be fair, it was also his idea. He'd still offered me up like a sacrificial lamb. So screw him.

A sharp stab of pain moves up my leg, and I pull the piece of metal free, gazing at my handiwork. I think I'm doing the opposite of helping, because now my ankle is swelling. Well, c.r.a.p. I toss the metal aside and sigh, staring out at the wasteland of what used to be an office building. There won't be any knives or saws here. If I'm lucky, I'll find a stapler. And then what? Threaten to staple the dragon to death if he comes back? Frustrated, I thump down onto my b.u.t.t and stare out at the trashed ruins. The dragon's gone, but I'm still screwed. I can't get free, and no one's left me a canteen of water or a bite to eat.

They didn't expect me to survive.

I think about Amy and Sasha. They'd have been waiting for me to bring home a score, because we were broke and there were no food supplies left. We had no one to turn to to help out, either. In Fort Dallas, there are only a few ways to feed a family if you don't have a male protector that can work in the militia. You can scavenge, which is against the law, or you can wh.o.r.e, which is, ironically, not against the law. Sasha has a 'friend' in the militia who she trades favors with, even though she hates him. It keeps her from having to trade favors with a lot of friends, though, so she puts up with it. I've spared Amy from the worst. With her bad leg, she can't scavenge. She barely leaves the broken-down school bus hull we call our 'house.' She'll wait for me to come back...and then what? Go to the soldiers herself? See if Sasha knows of another friend that needs favors?

The thought leaves a sick taste in my mouth. My little sister with her bad leg, forced to approach one of the d.i.c.kish militia... I grab the piece of metal again and jam it back into my cuff with renewed vigor, ignoring the discomfort.

I have to get out of here.

The thick, heavy beat of wings breaks into my frantic thoughts, and I freeze. My hair whips around my head as I look up, scanning the sky nervously. Is this my 'friend' with the gold eyes, or is this a new dragon? A red dragon, drawn by the remaining banner?

A flash of gold wing at the fringe of my vision makes my breath come a little easier. Okay. Probably the same guy again, which means he's friendly...unless he's decided he's hungry. I watch in vague dread as he circles lower in the sky, then descends. The building shakes as he perches on the edge, wings flapping hard before he draws them against his body. The d.a.m.n dragon's as big as a city bus-two, maybe. Is it the same one as before? I scan it, looking for hints, and am relieved when I see the faint scar running along his cheek.

The dragon scans the top of the ruined building, and then the eyes lock on me. Dark pupils fix on my face, and as I watch, they flick from black to the deep amber gold. I s.h.i.+ver, my throat dry, and give my b.l.o.o.d.y cuff another yank.

He opens his mouth, gaze locked on me.

I flinch backward. Here it comes.

Something thumps to the ground. The dragon whiffs out a breath, as if irritated.

Er, okay. I cautiously open one eye.

There's a dead creature in front of the dragon. It's a goat, the neck snapped at an awkward angle. A chill creeps up my spine. Poor goat. Is this what's going to happen to me? Is this a warning? I move behind the skinny pole, as if it'll hide me.

The dragon just stares at me with those gold-on-gold eyes. Then he noses the dead goat toward me, pus.h.i.+ng it with his long snout. He nudges it, then lifts his head and watches me. Waiting.

Is it...trying to feed me?

Surely not.

I blink at the dragon. Then down at the goat. Then back at the dragon.

He makes another noise deep in his throat, as if trying to get my attention. Then, he picks the goat up gently in his sharp teeth and drops it a few feet closer to me.

It's a present.

Yippee.

A hysterical laugh bubbles up in my throat. What am I supposed to do with that? I twist my ankle in the cuff again, desperate. I just want to get away.