Smolder (Dragon Souls) Page 3

  She screamed, long and loud as the ground rushed to meet her, but she jerked to a stop and was flung high again. Her stomach slammed into her throat, and her heart sank to the soles of her feet. The dragon’s tail caught her again, this time inches from the floor.

  He let her go, and she hit the ground none too lightly.

  She kissed it.

  Stumbling up, Marina staggered away, not daring to look back in case it provoked the dragon on to grab her again. After a few faltering steps, she came back to herself. She stopped and spun around.

  The dragon watched her with a cocked head and an amused expression. His neck curved back so his snout tipped down slightly, and his forearms rested in front of him as he reclined regally.

  Stomping back over to him, Marina paused to appreciate his humor. A smile curved her lips. After a moment’s deliberation, she took the extra step and hugged him, sinking into his underbelly.

  “Nice try. I’m more certain than ever you don’t want to hurt e. If you did, you would have swallowed. I’m not going to leave you to die here, so get over it.” Turning on her heel, Marina walked away, but threw over her shoulder, “Stay. I’ll be back, dragon.”

  Marina made short work of the walk back to the cottage. Bursting through the front door, she yelled at the top of her voice, “Cat!”

  A plump blonde-haired woman came tumbling out of the bedroom, her boyfriend Matthew hot on her heels. His hair was mussed, and his sleepy eyes wild with panic. And he was totally naked.

  Marina recoiled, shielded her eyes as she marched. “Seriously, dude, boxers.”

  Matthew swore and ducked back into the bedroom.

  Cathryn ambled after her, yawing, and looking bewildered. “Rina?” she whimpered, rubbing crusty sleep from her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

  Cathryn had been Marina’s friend for years, the only one who had stood by her when she turned into a sanctimonious bitch for the better part of the previous year when her mother died. Marina had always had a brash and full on personality that had endeared people, but after her recovery, it had turned nasty.

  Cat had persevered and helped her return to her old self, and for that Marina would ever be grateful.

  “I’m going to be camping … tonight,” Marina said and paused, “No, for the rest of this weekend.”

  They had driven down yesterday morning to spend the weekend in this old cottage, bought by her mother. Marina had been surprised. It wasn’t her mother’s glamorous style at all, and it was in the middle of nowhere. Since it was purchased, her mother never came to stay from what Marina could find out. For all her wealth, Almeria had taken considerable pains to secure a vast amount of land around the cottage, and it had intrigued Marina.

  On a whim, she’d packed up to go see it, and Cat had insisted on going with her, dragging Matthew along for the ride.

  Cathryn sat down on the edge of Marina’s bed as she dragged all her clothes out of her duffel bag, and haphazardly sorted through what she would need.

  “Do we have a nail gun?” Marina asked. Cat blinked, looked down at her fingernails, and Marina laughed as she stripped off her clothes to jump in the shower. “No, a nail gun, the kind you use to nail fences together.”

  “Erm, maybe in the shed?”

  “Do we have alcohol?”

  “Matt brought some vodka,” Cat said. “And there was an old bottle of whiskey in one of the cupboards.”

  Marina nodded in satisfaction, and walked into what looked like a cupboard, but was actually an individual shower stall. She left the door open, so she could hear Cat.

  “Rina, you want to tell me what’s going on?”

  “I met someone,” Marina replied.

  Lathering her self up with soap, Marina made sure to give herself a vigorous scrubbing down. She closed her eyes as she went under the lukewarm spray, and let it wet her short hair. She liked the way the water trickled over her scalp and ran down her neck, parting into streams at her shoulders that dribbled down her chest and back, made puddles at her feet before sliding down the drain.

  She wiggled her toes in the bubbles.

  “What?” Marina yelled since Cat had said something before she went under the water.

  “What’s his name?”

  She paused soap in hand. Marina hadn’t thought of that. Surely, a creature so beautiful and intelligent would have a name. She frowned. How would she ever figure out what it was? She’d have to rename him.

  “I don’t know,” she replied. “He might not have one yet. I’ll think of something.”

  “Um,” Cat began slowly. “Are there going to be other people on this camping trip?”

  Marina frowned. “Fuck no, it’ll be just us.”

  “Language!” Cathryn said crossly. “Do we need to have another talk?”

  Cheeks heating as she remembered Cat’s through scolding about her fondness for cussing, Marina reflexively shook her head even though Cat couldn’t see her, and squirted a generous amount of shampoo into her palm. She scrubbed it into her hair, using her nails to give her scalp a good scratch, humming cheerily.

  Marina loved her short hair. She could wash it and not bother after the fact. She’d tried long hair when she was younger at her mother’s insistence, though the women herself rocked an adorable pixie cut. The older she got the longer and heavier her hair had become. She’d ended up looking like a runaway Kardashian sister. Marina’s new hair was short enough to not be a pain, but long enough to be feminine. And she had the bone structure for it … or so her hairdresser had gleefully said as he chopped her locks off. Cat had cried as each curl fell to the floor, clutching her own blonde tresses as if afraid the hairdresser and his minions would jump her.

  Marina had donated her fallen hair to a cancer charity then gone dancing.

  “I’m not sure about this,” Cat called worriedly. “Can’t you at least tell me where he lives? I thought this was the only cottage for miles.”

  “Sweetie, I don’t know anything about him apart from the fact he fell into my lap and is hurt. So I’m going to fix him up to make sure he doesn’t die then … I don’t know, I’ll work the rest out as I go.”

  Marina brushed her teeth, letting the water pool into her mouth before squirting it out.

  Cranking the faucet so the shower slowed to a drip, she stepped into the steamy room and grabbed a towel from the rail. Drying her head, torso, and legs, she stepped out into the room with it wrapped around her middle.

  Cat was still talking.

  “I’m sorry what?” Marina asked, and picked up a bottle body lotion, smearing it on her shoulders then rubbed her face with both hands.

  “Listen, I get that you’re a free spirit, that you go off on your own a lot, and that nothing seems to worry you, but Rina, I have to put my foot down this time. Last night, I was terrified something had happened to you. Matthew was the only thing stopping me from calling for help. He said “No, babe. Don’t call the police, again, remember that time in Barcelona when they were about to put her on the missing persons list when she stumbled back, drunk with those traveling gypsies.” Cat stood up to pace around the room. “Or that time in Antigua when we had an entire search group convened to start searching the jungle for you and it turned out you hitchhiked around the island with a group of students.” She stopped and stared at me. “So I let him talk me out of going after you, or calling somebody to search for you last night, but god, Rina, couldn’t you have just picked up the phone to give me a call, or sent me a text so I didn’t worry? I’m not a prude. If you want to hook up with random people on the fly, fine, but don’t leave me to worry about you. That’s just mean.”

  Marina blinked, half her body lotioned up, smelling of coca butter, and the other half dry and itchy. “Did you text me?” she asked defensively.

  Cat glowered. She stomped over to Marina’s discarded clothes, picked up her jeans, and pulled her phone out from her back pocket. Frowning at the cracked screen, Cat thrust the phone under Marina’s nose.

 
Thirteen missed calls and eighteen text messages.

  All from Cat and Matthew.

  “You don’t even want to hear what I call you in the voicemails,” Cat said dryly and chucked the phone onto the bed. “What is the point in having a mobile if you don’t use it?”

  Marina shrugged sheepishly. “I find them unnecessary, but I do like having the internet.” Finished applying the lotion, she snapped the cap back on. She slipped into her clothes in silence, feeling guilty.

  She’d forgotten all about Cat. Marina had been so involved with the dragon, all other thoughts had been banished from her mind. Her friend was right, it wasn’t fair. Marina had put her through hell the last year, and she deserved better.

  Looking up, she pulled up the zipper on her jeans and beamed at Cat, eyes apologetic. “If I tell you what I’m doing will you feel better and forgive me?”

  Mollified, Cat crossed her hands under her bosom, looking down her pointy nose at Marina. Her robe slipped off her shoulder and exposed a hot pink bra with sequins, making Marina wonder if Cat was being honest about spending the entire night worrying about her. “Alright. This ought to be good.”

  “When I went for my walk last night the sky was on fire, and a dragon fell right in front of me. I would have come back here, but the dragon made me sleep on his back, and, well, if you saw the size of him you wouldn’t question why I couldn’t just jump off and leave. This morning I saw he’s hurt badly.” Marina’s brows lowered anxiously. “Not by the fall by something else. His sides are split open, as if they’ve been slashed with knives, but I don’t think the stitches in the medical kit are going to cut it,” she added dryly. “Oh, Christ. Cat, he has these beautiful scales, and they’re rock hard. So … I thought I could stitch him up with a nail gun, but I might just pour alcohol over him, push the scales back and hope for the best.”

  Cat’s face fell in the middle of the explanation. She turned her head, eyes wide and still on Marina. “Baby, get me ice and a cup of herbal tea. Rina needs a nap.”

  Marina scrunched her face and pouted. “Cat… .”

  “No. I don’t want to hear it. You need a time out.”

  Marina grabbed her by hand. “Do I ever lie to?”

  “Well–” Cat narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “There have been times when I have been uncertain.”

  “Straight answer. Have I ever lied to you?”

  She sighed and shook her head. “No. You’re many things, Rina. Selfish, self-absorbed, proud, stubborn, but you’re not a liar.”

  Marina nodded, if somewhat slowly as she scowled at the preceding descriptors Cat used. “Then why would I lie now?”

  “I don’t know, but you can’t be asking me to believe you’re going camping with a dragon. A mythical creature.”

  “I know you don’t believe in the same things I do–”

  Cat held up her palm. “This is different to believing in ghosts or bigfoot. If I were to call a doctor, he would advise me to section you. Is that what you want? To wear an open backed night gown and eat green jelly cubes for the rest of your life?”

  The conversation was moot. Letting go of her hand, Marina picked up her duffel. “I’ll be back in two days.”

  She opened the bedroom door, and Matt stumbled into the room. His ear had been pressed to the door, and ice cubes were melting in a tea towel.

  He smiled awkwardly, straightening.

  “Take care of her until I get back,” Marina ordered.

  In the kitchen, she stuffed a few chocolate bars into her duffel then decided to add granola bars, bottles of water, aspirin, and a mini medical kit. She found the whisky and took that too. Her chewing gum was already safely tucked away in the duffel’s side compartment.

  She unwrapped a stick of said gum and folded it into her mouth, scrunching up the wrapper and lobbing it in the bin.

  “Marina.” She turned to the sound of Cat fretting, and caught whatever she’d thrown before it smacked her in the face. “It’s fully charged. Keep it on you at all times, and call me if you get into trouble. I’ll find you.” She looked exasperated. “Just please, be careful.”

  Marina winked at her then left – anxious to get back to her dragon.

  An hour later, her stomach sank. She’d walked back to where she’d left dragon, and he was gone. She unquestionably stood in the right meadow. At the top of the hill was the crater, and she stood by the sooty patch of burnt grass, but no scaly mythical beast.

  Low growls rumbled high above her, the beat of heavy wings, and she looked up incredulously.

  The dragon was flying overhead, his body cocked at a funny angle.

  “Blimey,” she gasped. “How can he still even fly?”

  He wasn’t doing a graceful job of it either. Marina sensed another crash landing, and kept poised on the balls of her feet, ready to jump out the way if necessary.

  The dragon landed hard, mouth pulled back in a pained snarl and his eyes pressed shut. He shuddered and tucked his wings and tail close to his body. The slashes on his sides looked worse, scabbed at the edges, but the middles looked infected. The dragon groaned, an oddly human sound, and rolled until he was on his stomach, looking somewhat like a beaten puppy.

  Walking up to him carefully, slowly, so he could catch her scent, Marina dropped her duffel, her heart thumping horribly, as she thought of what could have happened to him. By the time she was close she was stomping heavily, and spitting fury. The dragon saw her coming – all riled up – and rumbled bad-naturedly, a warning. She ignored him, but did pull back the stomp to a walk and smoothed her furious scowl into a peeved glare.

  When she took in how pitiful he looked, Marina patted him on the snout then smoothed her hand over his skin. Her anger dissipated and left only concern.

  “There now,” she soothed. “You shouldn’t have tried in the first place. What if you fell on the edge of a cliff or something? I wouldn’t be able to get to you without help. I’d have to call the authorities who no doubt would take you from me.” She blinked. “Not that you’re mine or anything. I just think for now it’s better if the world remains ignorant of your presence. You’re safe here. There are no plane routes overhead, and I own most of this land.”

  Marina absentmindedly rubbed the spot between the two curves of his nostrils, thinking of her mother again. The dragon grumbled a bit before his eyes scrunched closed, and he puffed a breathy snort of satisfaction. Nudging his whole head towards her, Marina leaned over him and spread her arms to hold on.

  “It’s alright. We’ll get you fixed up in no time. I was just thinking how strange it was that no planes fly overhead and remembered my mother paid an obscene amount of money to have it that why. I was just wondering why, but all that can wait until later.” Marina pursed her lips. “Now, this next bit is going to hurt, but if you promise not bite any of my limbs off we can do this.”

  Chapter 4

  Koen Raad was curious. The female sprawled on his snout, and was muttering about him biting her head off whilst stroking him gently.

  Not a soul had ever touched him so affectionately and with such ease, not even his mother.

  Watching the woman tending to his wounds, he no longer cursed her presence. He found himself staring at the curve of her back, and the enticing swell of her hip.

  In dragon form, normal human thoughts were fuzzy, indistinct. Koen spent long stretches with claws and fangs thinking only of the baser things in life. He flew passed slumbering volcanoes and rivers of ice. He ate wild boar and slept on secret islands dotted in the lagoon of his home.

  There was little from the human world he saw, heard, or felt when dragon. He became wild, a creature of feeling and instinct.

  Yet he could see her.

  Worse, he could hear her, in his mind. It was maddening. At first, he’d been sad. He had hoped this land would be deserted of any humans when he crossed over, but when he had scented her on the high winds he knew had no choice but to find and kill her. His arrival had hardly been inconspicuous, and his land
ing the worst of his life. In the middle of his hunt, the pain in his side had become unbearable, and the endless flying he had been doing the last week to stay safe had taken its toll on his energy, depleting it to the point of exhaustion, the reason why his wounds had yet to heal.

  When he had prepared himself to disintegrate her, he had heard her babbling to herself in her mind about how beautiful and wonderful he was.

  Her voice and presence in his mind had stopped him cold. His mind had raced, trying to rule out any possibility of her demise not being held against him, thinking if he had forgotten something crucial that would explain her presence here. Then he had become fascinated, because there was only one woman with such eyes that would have such a gift that would be on Earth, and the woman before him was too young to be her.

  The woman’s daughter? The daughter of an Empress.

  A dragon mate.

  Koen had let the fire in his chest die as a tingle of apprehension ran over his scales.

  This was not just any dragon mate, but the daughter of a phoenix. She had to be; there was no other explanation.

  Still, Koen struggled to understand.

  A dragon mate in Earth realm … without the protection of her House … in his presence.

  He wondered if she was a trick, a ploy sent here before he arrived to catch him in yet another trap. Whilst she did not seem overly shocked something like him existed, she was genuinely thrilled to have seen and found him. The idea she existed and the Council knew nothing of her was undeniably strange.

  If she was not sent by them to tempt him then who was she sent by, if anyone?

  As he had searched his mind for an answer, the woman had started cooing at him in her mind.

  She reached to touch him, her tiny hand seeking, her tongue caught between white teeth revealed by her parted, lush mouth. A stubborn look had come over her flushed face, and Koen had been punched in the gut by a raw fist of lust.

  It was all he could do not to shift human and kiss her.

  He had needed to feel her skin and had moved forward eagerly to meet her half way. When she had fallen, his heart had leapt into his throat. Rather than be afraid, she explored him, and went as far to press her lips to his cheek.