Knock Down Dragon Out Page 2

  The scent of the traitors was powerful in the air, but he kept his eyes looking for a village or camp of some kind. Further and further from the portal he flew. Still nothing. No sight of any type of a dwelling. No other natives. Just mountains and valleys and trees as far as the eye could see.

  A dark blotch on the ground caught his keen eye.

  A shelter?

  The sun was beginning to set. The cold was getting colder, and the woman in his claws was feeling the bite of the wind much worse than him. Even holding her close to his warm chest wasn’t enough. His innate dragon senses could tell her core temperature was dropping rapidly. Unless he wanted to kill her himself, he needed to find shelter and warm her up quickly.

  Protect, his dragon snarled, curling his claws tighter around the precious cargo clutched to his chest.

  Col circled back to the dark square he’d seen a few minutes ago. He landed nearby in a clearing a short distance away in the safety of the trees. No need to make himself known without checking the perimeter first.

  Tucking his wings tight to his back, he moved through the forest, careful to keep his large body and tail from destroying his surroundings and giving away his position. He tucked his mate safely against his chest with one claw and moved forward carefully on three legs. Having her with him was slowing him down, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave her alone while he scouted the shelter.

  He crept closer, until he’d reached the clearing in front of the shelter. It wasn’t huge, but it was definitely better than trying to camp in the open. The roof was almost completely covered by the white powder. There were drifts that covered halfway up the outside walls, but he could still see the door. It wouldn’t take much for his dragon to dig a way in. No fresh scents were in the area. The trace odors of the natives who’d built it were months old. No one was living here now.

  Col relaxed just a little and walked further into the clearing toward the shelter. It appeared to be made from logs. There was a single window on the front, made of clear glass. A stack of firewood was buried under the cold white powder on one side. He put the woman down close to the stacked wood, where he’d be able to see her as he dug out the front door. Then used his large claws to move the powder away from the doorway of the shelter.

  “W-what the—”

  He swung his big head toward the sound.

  His mate had come to and was staring at him with big wide brown eyes full of fear.

  “Oh my God!” Her voice trembled and shook, fluttering like the smallest of butterflies.

  He liked the rich tone of her voice, even frightened, it soothed his angry mind. For a moment all that existed was her. Everything else faded into the background.

  Col put his big nose closer to her body but froze when she covered her mouth to muffle a scream. He didn’t want to hurt her or frighten her further, but his dragon liked her. Wanted to breathe in her scent. Taste her.

  “Please don’t eat me.” She pressed herself backward into the woodpile, as if willing her body to become one with the logs.

  The words started to coalesce in his mind. His Reylean magick was working hard, putting together a giant puzzle in his mind. She hadn’t spoken enough yet. He needed her to speak more words to help him solidify the language in his mind.

  Her teeth were chattering now. Whether from fear or the cold, it didn’t matter; he needed to get her inside. Get a fire started. Get her warmed.

  He turned back to the door and finished digging away all the cold, wet, white powder. It melted on contact with his warm skin. Once clear, he shifted to his two-legged form and went back to the woman.

  “You’re a person? How can you be a dragon and a person?” She was hugging herself. Her curls stuck out from all angles around the bandage he’d wrapped her head with. Her face was flush with color and her eyes were wide, like that of a deer before being caught. “Please don’t hurt me.”

  “I have no intention of hurting you,” he spoke slowly, trying out the new tongue. It was choppy and flowed strangely from his lips. “The others I hunt. They attacked you.”

  “Wait… So, there’s more than one of you here? More dragons?”

  Hadn’t she seen Jaha and his sister? They’d injured her. Why was she acting as though he was the first dragon she’d seen?

  “I hunt two traitors of the house of Li’Vhram. I’d still be hunting them, but they injured you.” He approached slowly. “You need warmth, shuarra. Let me help you inside.”

  She flinched and shook her head.

  “I will not injure you.” His voice was harder that time, laced with impatience. She might still be afraid of him, but he wasn’t going to stand here in the cold arguing and trying to coax her into trusting him. He bent down, scooped up her flailing body and crossed to the door.

  “Hey! Help!” Her cry pierced not only his ear, but his heart as well.

  He was trying to help her. He would never hurt a woman…well, except Jaha’s sister. Col intended to hurt Sefa. But her death would be quick, unlike the plans he had to pull Jaha apart one limb at a time.

  “I am helping you,” He kept his voice level. She was like a wounded animal, unpredictable and dangerous to herself. “You are injured. Stop struggling.” She needed to calm. Fighting him was only going to make her more stressed and her head injury bleed more. Her heart was racing again, and he could smell the fresh blood seeping from her wound. “Stop.” he said again, meeting her frightened gaze with the same fierce one he used on the warriors in training beneath him in his father’s guard.

  She stilled in his arms and the cries turned into muffled whimpers.

  Better.

  Yanking hard, he pulled out the padlock from the door and moved inside the shelter. Light filtered in from several windows. The walls and ceiling were all bare wood but sealed against the wind. There was a bed in the back and another door. A couch sat directly to his left and to his right was a stone fireplace, which pleased him.

  He needed to get a fire started immediately.

  Further back to the right was a small table and a few cabinets. Perhaps they’d hold basic supplies, if not; he’d hunt and feed his shuarra. Once she was taken care of, he’d resume the hunt for the traitors. They wouldn’t be far. They wanted him dead as much as he desired to end them.

  “Where are we? Do you live out here?” she asked, her voice quieter and more controlled this time. “Who are you?”

  “I don’t know where we are.” Col looked down at her in confusion. “Why don’t you know?” This was her world. She should have a general idea of where she was. “Where is the closest town?”

  She shook her head. “My head hurts so bad.” Tears welled in her eyes again. “I can’t even remember my name. Everything just hurts.”

  “Just rest. It will come back to you.” He laid her on the bed and pulled the extra blanket up to cover her. “I will get wood for the fire and warm this place up. Are you going to run?”

  “Out into the freezing snow? In the middle of nowhere, when I don’t know where I am or who I am?” She gave him a brave halfway chuckle and he felt his heart give a small leap of hope that she would not remain terrified of him. “I may have amnesia, but I’m not stupid. As long as you promise you’re not here to eat me.”

  “I do not eat people.” Even though Reyleans often fought in animal form, enemies were never consumed on purpose. In the heat of the battle anything could happen, especially with dragons. Most of the other animals weren’t big enough to just swallow a person.

  “Good to know.”

  “Snow? Is that the name you call the white powder?” He changed the subject and focused on the unknown word she’d used to describe the landscape. Most of the language was obvious, but there were elements about the world he wouldn’t understand without an explanation.

  She cocked her head and stared at him from beneath the blanket. “You don’t know what snow is?”

  “There is none on my world.”

  “It’s frozen water. Falls in the winter like
rain.” She took a deep breath, calming her racing heart beat further. He was impressed at her self-control. “I don’t think dragons are real. I’m probably just hallucinating you and this cabin and…everything.”

  “You are safe with me. I will not let the traitors near you again.” He backed up a few steps. “I will return.”

  “Wait.” Her voice teetered on breaking, like a large tree limb under the force of a thousand pounds just before it snapped. “Who are you?”

  “I am Col of the House of Li’Vhram.”

  “And the other people…the dragons you’re chasing…they hurt me? Hurt your family?”

  He nodded, impressed that even with a head injury she was attempting to put things together around her. She was strong.

  Mine. Claim.

  Col mentally shoved his dragon’s voice down and held back his snarl of anger. His dragon would obey. This woman might be Fate’s choice for him as a mate, but there was no time for claiming.

  He’d made his vow. Justice would be served for his family and only the blood of Jaha and Sefa would satisfy that vow. “I must get wood for the fire. Stay still.”

  He turned on his heel and slipped out the front door before she could ask another question, or his dragon pushed more. Being in the woman’s presence was difficult. Her soul called to him and the more he looked at her, the worse it became. The harder it got to push down his dragon.

  Everything inside him wanted to touch her. Hold her again. He wanted to bury his face in her hair and fill his lungs with her scent so that he would never forget it.

  No.

  He stalked down the front of the shelter, his boots crunching in the thick inches of snow. The woodpile was covered in it. All the logs were wet from the snow. Frozen water.

  Col quickly made a small stack of firewood a short distance from the house, shifted to his dragon form and breathed a quick flash fire over the logs. The snow on the ground around the small stack melted instantly. Steam hissed, and the logs crackled, but within a minute they were dry, and the outsides turned black as ash. They would burn well now.

  He shifted back to his human form, scooped up the logs, slightly charred and still red hot in places. The fire didn’t bother him though. His skin was impervious to flame or heat of any kind. A nice addition to the strength of his tribe that kept dragons from turning their fire on each other in a fight. Completely useless. It wouldn’t even burn off clothes. Their magick protected any covering they were wearing like armor.

  He opened the door to the cabin. The bed was empty. The woman was gone.

  Col threw the logs at the hearth, and then crossed the cabin to the bed. Her scent was strong and led…he turned to the door in the back. His shoulders sagged with unwanted relief. She was behind the door. He could hear her moving around, then the sound of running water.

  He opened the door and peered inside.

  She stood with her back to him at a white stone bowl that had water running from a silver mouth.

  Fascinated, he stepped inside the small room. To his left was a glass box in the corner.

  She met his gaze in the mirror hanging on the wall over the water bowl.

  His mate had a cloth in her hand and was dabbing at the wound on the back of her neck.

  Help.

  He agreed. She shouldn’t have to clean herself up when he was here to take care of her.

  “Let me.” He took the wet cloth from her hand before she could object. Col ran it under the ice-cold water coming from the silver mouth, and then pushed aside a few of her silky brown curls so he could see the cut on the back of her head.

  It wasn’t deep, but whatever her head had struck nicked a blood vessel. Head wounds were always messy.

  His mouth went dry. His cock went hard. His every sense tuned to her.

  Her hair was so soft on his fingers. Her scent filled his lungs. He fought himself to keep from leaning down and rubbing his cheek against her curls. She was injured. She wasn’t even herself. She didn’t remember her name or anything about why she was out in the wilderness by herself.

  “Thanks.” The word was hesitant, but not fearful.

  Col nodded and wiped at the crusted blood, cleaning it from her hair and neck. The wound looked good. The bleeding had stopped and was closing up nicely already. “It was not deep, but it was enough to damage your memory. You hit something very hard.”

  She chuckled a little. “Nothing like waking up in the wilderness with nothing but a sexy, wild dragon man who insists on taking care of you. I feel like I’m in some sort of fantasy flick.”

  “A flick?”

  “A movie. A story with pictures that you watch on a screen.”

  He nodded but wondered why they would watch stories instead of just telling them at gatherings.

  The other word—sexy—he didn’t have a meaning for that either. It sounded like a positive description. Her tone had been positive. Just the fact that she was letting him touch her without completely losing her mind was progress in and of itself. No screaming or weeping. He’d take it.

  “You are clean.” He reluctantly set the cloth down on the side of the bowl. The last thing he wanted to do was quit touching her.

  She took it, rinsed it and then hung it again on the side. Then turned to him and stared, like she was waiting for him to do something.

  Col stepped closer. His hands went into her hair, stroking through the silky curls. He rubbed a thumb over the angular line of her cheek. Her skin was so soft. He just couldn’t stop himself.

  She stood frozen in place. Her eyes widened, but she didn’t object. Didn’t run. Didn’t scream and yell and tell him to stop. She should’ve.

  It would’ve been easier to tell his dragon no if she fought him. Instead, after a moment she leaned her head into the palm of his hand.

  “Thank you for not leaving me out there alone. I know I kinda went off on you and freaked out. I’m still not sure that I’m not hallucinating the whole thing. Maybe I’m still laying out there somewhere in the snow, unconscious and you’re just my dying fantasy.”

  Her voice was low and husky with unrealized desire, but Col could hear it. His dragon could hear it. Magick surged between them and the glow of her soul called to his so strongly; for a moment he could think of nothing else.

  “The way you look at me is like a fantasy. So intense and hungry. It’s like the second you saw me, you fell in love with me. Which is crazy. Also, why I think you’re just a fantasy in my mind. Plus, dragons aren’t real. And, I have no memory of who I am.”

  “You are not dying. Dragons are real in my world. And I do want you, but you are ill and need to rest.” Col dropped his hand away from her face but froze when she put a palm flat on his chest.

  She anchored him in place.

  His feet wouldn’t respond to the commands his brain was giving. Get away. Stop her.

  Mine. Mate. His dragon insisted. Claim.

  “What if I said I wanted you?” Her tone was soft but daring. Her fingers trailed down his bare chest, leaving burning trails of desire in their wake.

  His entire body came to life. His skin rippled as his dragon tried to press to the surface.

  Col breathed deeply and caught his mate by the wrist. “You don’t know what you’re asking for, shuarra.” His dragon purred within his chest, pleased that the man had let himself call her his mate again. Col, was less so. He couldn’t have her yet, not until he’d carried out justice for his family. “You are injured. You should rest.” He made a slight move backward, but she stepped closer, pressing her body against his.

  He still held her wrist out to the side of their bodies, but now he could feel all of her against him. Even through the puffy covering shielding her upper body, he could feel the softness of her breasts. Her hips hit just below his and her belly pressed in agonizingly against his hard cock.

  “What’s that word mean? Shuarra?” She lifted her chin. Her hungry gaze met his without abandon.

  The soul call between them was so strong. Str
onger than he’d realized at first.

  “Mate.” His tone was heavy with desire for the woman in front of him.

  His justice would have to wait.

  3

  Col slipped his arms around his mate’s body and pulled her closer, away from the white wash bowl. He slanted his mouth over hers and claimed it, thrusting his tongue deep and tasting her sweet flavor. The kiss wasn’t rough and angry, more like demanding. He was staking a claim.

  She was his. Would be his.

  He imagined how it would be to kiss his mate like this every day for the rest of his life. His hands moved to her hips, pulling her closer, pushing his body into hers. She was so soft. So welcoming.

  He released her hips for a second, but only long enough to work the fastenings on her covering. Col opened it and pushed it down from her shoulders until it fell to the hard, bare floor. Then he pulled her against him again, her breasts soft and firm against his chest beneath her remaining clothing. So perfect. Only, he wanted to see more of her skin. More of the glow that called to his soul. Wanted to kiss and taste her entire body.

  There was no hesitation in her kiss. Her mouth moved against his, tangling and tasting his mouth as he had with hers.

  Col nipped at her lips, then moved to the soft exposed skin of her neck. Not now, but soon he would mark her as his own. No other male would come near her if she bore his bite mark—his scent would forever be mixed with hers.

  Yes. His dragon agreed.

  She moaned into his mouth and blood rushed to his cock. No way had she missed the way his hard erection was pressed into the soft roundness of her belly. The sounds she made. The soft mewls and cries as he nipped and kissed his way down her neck to where her shirt began.

  Thoughts of ripping it off crossed his mind, but instead he grabbed the bottom and tugged it up and off. She’d need her clothes when they left this shelter.

  His shuarra gasped and shivered. The cold air made her beautiful sandy colored skin tighten. Bumps rose along her arms and torso, and around the strange bit of fabric that she wore to encase her breasts.