Fireblood Dragon: Fire In His Blood Part 6

Pleasure flashes over his face, and I could swear the man practically purrs in response. He creeps a bit closer. "Clau-dah Kael," he says in a low, rich voice, and moves closer yet again.

I scoot backward and flinch when I run into a wall. Trapped like a rat. d.a.m.n it. He moves closer, and I close my eyes, hoping he's just gonna give me a friendly dragon-hug of some kind.

I feel the warmth of his naked body press against my own. He's scorching hot, this dragon. Not surprising given that he breathes fire, but feeling it against me is startling. "Clau-dah," he murmurs in that low, rumbling voice, then leans in and sniffs my hair, practically nuzzling me.

I remain utterly still, not sure what to do.

His claws drag through my tangled hair, and as I open my eyes, I see that he's got a fascinated look on his face. His eyes are gold, so I relax. His touch is gentle enough, and his eyes are calm. Maybe he doesn't realize he's scaring the p.i.s.s out of me. That people don't get in each other's personal s.p.a.ce like this. He's a dragon. Maybe they do things differently.

Up close to him like this, he seems way more human. He looks like he's about my age, his face unlined. The spicy scent of him is pleasant, and the form looming over mine looks human enough. His golden skin isn't scaly, but more dappled. It's curiously appealing, and I kind of want to touch him to see what it feels like, but I'm pretty sure he'd take that as an invitation to do more.

Kael drags a handful of my hair to his nose and inhales sharply, his nostrils flaring. "Clau-dah," he growls, and rubs his face against my neck.

That...sounds like things just went a step too far. And when he lifts his head, I see his eyes have gone black again.

"You're scaring me," I whisper.

When I speak, his attention goes back to my mouth. His claws brush over my lips, fascinated. I'm relieved that his touch is gentle enough. Maybe I need to say more.

"Scary," I say, not entirely sure how to convey this. I decide to s.h.i.+ver and huddle, exaggerating the movements. I cringe like a puppy and then point at him. "Kael scary." And I s.h.i.+ver again for good measure. It's not hard to do considering his eyes are black as he rubs my hair against his cheek.

But once I point at him, understanding dawns on his face. He blinks at me, and the black leaches out of his eyes, returning to gold. "Clau-dah...no?"

Oh, thank G.o.d. He understands. "No," I agree, and put a hand on his chest to push him away.

"No?" He bites out the word.

Fear pools in my belly, but I need to make him understand. "No." My voice is a little wobbly. "Scary."

"Clau-dah no," Kael echoes, his voice flat with anger. He slams away from me so fast that I have to stifle my squeal of fright. He storms away, raging across the room, and then stops, his back to me. As I watch, he clenches his clawed fists. His big shoulders heave, as if he's trying to contain himself. The low snarl starts in his throat again, and he throws his head back, giving way to a full-blooded roar of fury so loud it shakes gla.s.s out of the windowpanes.

I collapse where I stand, drawing tight into a little ball of fear. I wrap my arms around my head protectively, and tears of fright leak down my cheeks. I'm so scared I can't move.

I've made him mad.

He holds my fate in the palm of his barely human hand and I've made him mad.

Bad move, Claudia.

KAEL.

Clau-dah.

She has a name. My mate has a name. I repeat it to myself, over and over again, and it helps keep the darkness at bay.

Clau-dah. Clau-dah.

I reach out to her mind, to connect with her as I do other drakoni. There is nothing there, only silence.

I close my eyes, fighting off the rage that burns through me. It is a helpless rage, a rage with no focus. I know it-like poison in my mind, it destroys all thought and leaves me nothing but a snarling beast. I cannot be that way around Clau-dah, because she is already scared of me. I must woo her, court her with caresses and gifts of good food. I cannot let the madness cloud my mind.

My reason for existing crouches nearby, trembling. For her, I must be strong.

So I say her name again, chanting it in my mind. Clau-dah. Clau-dah. If she cannot hear me, she will when I claim her as my mate.

I glance over at her. I can smell the fear coming off of her in sheets, overriding my own musky scent of arousal. I want to touch her again. Touch her silky soft hair, her pale skin. See her strange green eyes light up with pleasure. I want her to welcome my touch instead of flinching away.

Clau-dah is not like other dragon-mates. The females of my kind are aggressive. If they wish to be courted by a male, they flare red and attack him to determine if he's worthy to mate. After many long, drawn-out battles, if the male conquers the female, he will win mating privileges. The mental bond will be formed, and they will make a strong hunting pair, no matter in two-legged form or four. Some drakoni prefer the two-legged form because it allows for clearer thinking.

At least, I think that is how it was. My memories are a jumble, no longer coherent in this strange new land where everything triggers madness. I cannot tell my dreams from reality. Not anymore.

I hate it here, hate everything about it. The strange, ugly metal buildings, the stench of the skies. The two-legged ones that swarm over everything and attack with pellets of fire. I hate all of it, and the urge to destroy and conquer writhes like a snake in my gut. Even now, just thinking about it makes me alert with the hunger to attack, to switch back to four-legged battle form and wreak havoc.

Except...my female is right here.

I turn to look at her again. Soft. Vulnerable. Fragile. Her hands swipe at her cheeks and the curious wetness there. Her hair is a glossy tangle around her head, the beautiful mating red that my kind loves so very much. Her big green eyes gaze at me with defiance, even as she inches backward.

It makes me smile. She is trying to be brave.

I do not blame her for her fear. It is the rage. It has consumed me just like it has consumed all of my people, ever since the heavens opened up and pulled us through to this strange, awful place. Knowing she is here feels like an anchor to sanity. With a mate, the rage will dissipate. When I mate her, our minds will link, and the s.h.i.+ning star of her in the black void of my thoughts will keep me sane forever.

I hunger for that, almost as much as I hunger for her. I reach down to stroke my aching c.o.c.k, thinking of Clau-dah under me. The sensation is incredible, and I growl low in my throat. I've been in battle form too long, and this is a pleasure only for the two-legged form. It has been far too long since I touched a female, and I ache to make Clau-dah mine, to feel her small hand upon me like this.

Clau-dah gives a small, m.u.f.fled noise of alarm.

I immediately drop my hand from my c.o.c.k. I want to tell her that she is safe. That I will never touch her while she is frightened of me. That she is my mate, and I wish nothing more than to care for her and protect her from this harsh, awful world I have been exiled to.

But I cannot speak to her, not yet. Her words are strange ones, and we have no mind-link yet. We will not until we mate. Until then, I must be patient and speak the few words of her language that I know. "Clau-dah, no," I rea.s.sure her. "No." I will not touch you until you hunger for me as much as I hunger for you.

She doesn't understand what I am saying to her. Her expression is still full of defiance masking her fear. She was frightened of my gift of fresh meat, too. Clau-dah was so frightened she did not take her battle form. Perhaps the humans here do not have one. That could explain why they die so easily and frighten all the time. If I had no battle form, I would look at life very differently, as well.

But...perhaps that is why they are not crazed with madness and my people are.

It does not matter. I will win Clau-dah by feeding her. She will realize when I feed her that she is my mate, and then she will relax.

I stalk toward the dead animal and examine it. Less than a mouthful in my battle form, but plenty to eat for any two-legged creature. It looks tasty enough. I lean over and use my claws to slit the belly wide open and expose the tender organs.

Clau-dah makes a noise that does not sound like appreciation.

Perhaps she thinks I will not share the tenderest parts with her? She can have all of them. Sliding my hand into the viscera, I pull out the liver and hold it out to my mate, still wet with warm blood.

Her green eyes go wide and she makes a face, then shakes her head. "No!"

No? There is that word again. I frown. Does she not realize that a mate offers his woman the choicest bits of a kill? Does she not realize this is for eating? I take a bite out of the dripping organ, enjoying the salty gush of it into my mouth, and then hold it out to her again.

She gasps, pressing a hand to her lips.

Still no? Is she not hungry? Confused by her reaction, I take another bite of the delicious liver, watching her. Does she not want her gift because it is from me? Or does she not understand that it is a gift? Do the two-legs here in this ugly place not feed their mates? Care for them?

Or...is she refusing because she already has a mate?

I growl low at the thought, furious. Clau-dah is mine. I will battle for her. Whoever her mate is, he is not worthy of her. Just the thought of another male touching my chosen mate makes my wings flare, and I am thrust back into my battle form immediately.

No one can have her.

In the corner, Clau-dah squeaks with distress.

This makes me even more furious. No matter what I do, my mate is terrified. She will never approach my gift of food now. I am further away from winning her confidence than ever before. Black rage clouds my eyes, and my breath quickens with fury.

Darknesshungerkillangerfrustrationragedarkdarkdarkragehungerfrenzyragedarknessviolencekilldestroy Clau-dah, I remind myself. I think of her green eyes. Her cloud of red hair.

Slowly, the burning anger fades from my mind. I must be calm. I must not give up. Not if I wish to claim my mate. Using my claws, I rip a haunch off of the kill and approach my mate. I drop it in front of her as an offering, and wait.

8.

CLAUDIA.

I eye the b.l.o.o.d.y goat leg that's been plopped in front of me with revulsion. The dragon's hovering nearby, his gaze intent on me. I don't know what's more startling that he just flashed back into dragon form in the blink of an eye or that he's offering me a carca.s.s.

It's clear he wants me to eat it. I figured as much the moment he tore a big, gushy bite out of the liver and then offered it to me, blood running down his chin.

But as hungry as I am, I'm not a fan of raw meat.

Meat's a rarity most times now. In the After, it's much wiser to keep a cow alive for milk, or chickens for eggs, instead of meat. Not that I get eggs or milk, either. There are a few farms on the edges of Fort Dallas, but the herds are small so they can be easily protected when the dragons rain down fire, and meat is at a premium...unless it's rat or squirrel. I've eaten my fair share of those in the last few years.

Goat is something new. And really, it's big and juicy and I can eat my fill. I haven't eaten a real meal in days, and maybe that's why I'm considering that big hunk of raw meat.

It's good that he's trying to feed me, I think. That means he doesn't want to eat me. It'd take a long time to fatten me enough to make more than a mouthful for a dragon. My fear ebbs a little. f.u.c.k me, yes. Eat me, no.

Even that, I'm wondering about.

It's clear he's attracted to me-thanks to the fact that he has no pants-but he stops every time I say no. That makes him better than, oh, most of the men in Fort Dallas. I slowly uncurl from my protective crouch and eye the dragon that hovers nearby, waiting. He watches me like a hawk, but his eyes are gold-on-gold. That's a good sign.

He leans in and noses the animal leg toward me.

Definitely wants to feed me.

Why me, though? Why me out of all the humans that have been killed by dragons after all this time? What makes me special? What's so different that he's not immediately killing me but wants to feed me instead?

I'm hungry, too. Really hungry. Before my arrest, we'd been out of money and out of food. I'd sold what I could to buy food for Amy, but in the end, I'd only been able to buy a few stale protein bars from a trader in exchange for the last of the fuel for our small lantern. I'd given them to Amy and scavenged a few meals of my own by doing odd jobs for Fort Dallas's only bar. I'd had offers from b.l.o.w.j.o.b Becky to join her group of wh.o.r.es, since that's the only place a girl can get steady employment. I'd declined at the time, but after a few days of hunger, it was starting to look like an option.

Then, of course, I'd gotten arrested.

In all reality, jail wasn't so bad. They fed me more often than I fed myself-once a day. If I hadn't been so worried about Amy, I'd have probably enjoyed those bowls of oatmeal more. Thinking about them now makes me hungry.

I'm always hungry.

He nudges the goat leg in front of me again, and I decide we need to chat before I go 'raw' and try to eat this b.l.o.o.d.y thing. "Kael," I say softly. "Can we talk?"

The dragon's ears p.r.i.c.k, and his enormous head zooms in so close that I gasp and fall backward, startled. He only waits, though, big golden pupils alert.

I point at the goat leg. "I'll eat that, but not raw."

He studies me, then studies the goat leg. Then he looks back to me, waiting.

All right, we're getting nowhere fast. "I wish you'd change back," I mutter to myself. For some reason, it feels easier to have a conversation with him when his eyeball's not the size of a tire and staring right into my face. "This thing's raw, and it's got goat hide on it. I need it cooked."

No response. The great eyes blink, waiting.

Okay. This isn't working. I chew on my lip, thinking, then try another tactic. I glance over at the dragon to make sure he's not going to spring on me and then reach for the goat leg and tug it toward me.

He doesn't move. All he does is watch me, gaze intent.

All right, then. I examine the goat leg as I pull it toward me. There's a tattered piece of skin-hide-hanging off where he ripped it from the goat's body. I swallow hard. I'm not a total priss. I've seen-and eaten-kills from the Scavenge Lands. I've watched people dress them. I've caught squirrels and taken them in to sell to the stew-makers, because eating it myself means throwing away money. I've watched them skin the things and prep them for meals. I've just...never had to skin my own meat. Never had the opportunity.

I guess now is one great big opportunity. Or something. All right. I wipe my hands and glance around, looking for something to use as a knife. There are shards of broken gla.s.s not too far away, and I move to go grab one.

The dragon's immediately there at my side, pus.h.i.+ng in front of the doors to the stairwell. Black flares in his gaze.

"Calm down, big guy," I tell him, and dare to pat his nose. "I'm just getting some carving materials, okay? I learned my lesson. I'm not going anywhere."

At the sound of my soothing voice, the eyes flare gold again and he rubs against my hand, as if wanting me to touch him more. Yeah, we're not that close yet. I give him another perfunctory pat, and then with slow, exaggerated motions, pick up a hand-sized piece of gla.s.s. I glance over at him to see if he's going to react to the fact that I've picked up a weapon, but Kael seems calm. I consider the makes.h.i.+ft blade in my hand. It's extremely sharp on one edge, and I'm standing very close to Kael, his head down. I could stab one of those tire-sized eyeb.a.l.l.s and...

And then what? Run away after wounding him? Run where? The stairwell is completely busted. Like it or not, this dragon's my only way off the building. I guess it's a good thing he wants to be friends.

He nudges the leg toward me again and then noses me.

It's like he truly just wants to take care of me. Okay, this is officially weird. They'd told me to tame the dragon, and I'd thought it was the craziest thing I'd ever heard of. Except now...I'm not so sure. Kael's not acting like the other dragons. Do dragons like humans, one on one? Is that the key? If we get close enough to one of the big, murdering brutes and get one alone, we can become buddies?