His Dragon Warrior Read online

  From the right side of my bed came a small sound, and I instinctively jolted into action, rolling toward the other side to get away, my mouth open with a yell already on my lips. Whomever it was struck fast. The bed dipped. One hand slapped over my mouth while a strong arm wrapped around my waist. My elbowing and struggling had no effect on whomever it was as I was dragged more or less upright and to the edge of the bed. The alpha had me walk until I was forced to stand on my feet with my back flush against a hard, strong body, far larger than my own.

  Fear clawed at me, but the bizarre sensation I’d been struggling with in my chest warmed happily. Pleasant heat spread through my limbs. The feelings inside me seemed to snag and snatch at the alpha holding me in a delightful way, connecting us with a burst of shared pleasure that shivered between our bodies and had my stomach sparking with more warmth. My body was deeply confused about my situation. I was terrified and excited. Moaning, I halfheartedly gave a kick behind myself at the shin of my captor.

  Was I so in need of company that even a thief in the night seemed good enough? Clearly, I was right all along, and I needed to leave this place. My heart raced as I furiously considered how to get myself out of this. I squirmed. The alpha’s hold didn’t loosen, but he slid his arm down to cage me more firmly against his body.

  “Stop.” The bass of Bishop’s familiar voice didn’t put me at ease, on the contrary, my muscles tightened, and my stomach swooped pleasantly. Sweet good night, he was in my room. I’d thought about those muscles and that scarred, manly face more times than I could count over the past two weeks, and now he was here again, like a figment of my imagination brought to life by my fervent dreaming.

  Perhaps I’d gone insane. That would explain a lot.

  “Evan,” he whispered into my ear on a warm gust of air that was real enough. “I’m going to let go, but I can’t have you making a racket. Do you understand?”

  Carefully, I nodded. He did as he said he would, and I was almost disappointed when he kept his word and freed me. I spun around and craned my neck to look up into his serious face. My stomach was a raging fire, and I clutched a hand to it. My heart hammered. His jaw ticked and he clenched his fists at his side.

  “What are you doing here?”

  He frowned. “Do you want to leave the stronghold?”

  Barely able to think with the way my body was rioting near him, I nodded.

  He let out a long sigh and his lips tilted, barely noticeable, but there was almost a smile on his face now. “I saw you before, sneaking out, and followed. I’m not sorry I foiled you then because you were in danger, but I regretted taking away your right to follow your own feet, as it were. I realized then you were fleeing under Vince’s radar, but I had to return you that night.”

  “Radar?” Confused, I cocked my head to the side, and he blinked at me, but my mind was also busy frantically pulling apart everything else he’d said. How could he possibly know so much about me when the people who saw me every day didn’t seem to understand?

  Bishop snorted. “You were evading his attention. Good bit of stealth on your part. I came back to help you.” His eyes glittered in the low light, dark and dangerous, and my heart surged. All at once, I felt like I was trapped in a Shakespearean farce. Surely, Uncle Vince was about to burst in here any moment and force us into a macabre end. Bishop wasn’t here for me, he just couldn’t be. No one wanted me enough to risk the wrath of the Redcaps.

  “You don’t think I’m being irresponsible in leaving?”

  Bishop stretched his neck and studied the ceiling for a moment before he glanced back down into my face. His gaze locked with mine and I shivered.

  “Maybe you were not being smart, but every dragon has the right to steer his own destiny. Or they should, at least. Our honor and will are two of the few things we truly own.”

  He seemed so serious as he leaned toward me and dragged in a deep breath. I struggled not to do the same. It was considered dreadfully impolite, but my god, he smelled good.

  “It’s nice that you’re offering to help me, but how on earth are we going to leave? This place was built to keep people out.” I glanced at the window that was barely big enough for me to slip through if I sucked in my gut. He’d never be able to leave that way. “How did you—”

  “But it’s not made to keep people in.” He reached out a hand as if he wanted to touch me and then rested it on the hilt of a sword on a belt at his hip. My breath stilled. I hadn’t noticed that before, too enraptured with his smell and his heat in my personal space to pay attention to my own safety, I suppose. Again, I hated that I was proving my uncle’s most dire predictions correct by being easily distracted.

  Clearing my throat, I tugged my braid around and toyed with the end for a moment while I attempted to collect myself. “What do you propose?”

  “We’ll go the same way I came.”

  “Cryptic of you.” Worry ate at me, but excitement stirred in my gut and I smiled at him. His breath caught, and my face flushed warm.

  Could he really do what he was saying? Part of me was thrilled he’d come back, but he hadn’t said he was here for anything like the lusty tryst I’d spied on in the gallery several weeks ago—simply to assuage his guilt. I jolted. What had made me think of tawdry encounters in the first place? I shrugged. “All right.”

  “I’ll wait while you gather your things.”

  My head spun as I took the same pack I’d used last time, leather and made by my aunties to tote around art supplies without spilling them all over the place. It hurt my heart to leave my paints and pencils and notebooks, but I needed a few clothes and other things more, and besides, surely I could find a way to procure more later. Obviously, I wouldn’t live the rest of my life with nothing.

  “That’s all you’re taking?” Bishop asked when I shouldered my bag. His gaze wandered to the items I’d dumped out and left behind on my bed. I took the time to fish my folding knife from under my pillow and pocket it and grabbed my bow from where I had it leaning in the corner.

  “Leave it. Won’t do you much good where we’re going.” He eyed me, curiosity plain on his face.

  “Where could we be going that a bow wouldn’t be useful?”

  His gaze narrowed, as if he thought I was making a joke at his expense, but then his expression cleared. “Have you ever left this place? Even once?”

  “No.”

  He grunted and his jaw went hard… well, harder. “Trust me. Leave it.”

  Huffing, I did as he asked, but my stomach crinkled in on itself. I wanted a weapon after what happened last time with that other alpha. Perhaps we had to travel lightly for a reason he wasn’t explaining. Alphas were all the same that way, so close-lipped about the important things that you practically had to pry information from them. They did a lot of jawing, and not a lot of sense-making. He opened the door for me, and we left my room. A pang ran through me, but I ignored it. I refused to be sad about going.

  Bishop crept his way through the darkened stone corridors of the stronghold as if it were he who had lived here his entire life, not me, and sure-footed, he kept to the darkest spots. He made his way to the stone gallery. The windows here were larger and let in the moonlight. The silver beams cut across his face and made him handsome in scary ways that begged me to keep looking. He caught my eye, and I shook my head at him.

  “There’s no way out of here. Only one door in, and we just came through it.”

  “Oh, really?” He didn’t smile, but his face softened before he tilted his head and glanced over his shoulder. He pressed me closer to the wall with one hand and stood still for a tense moment, but he eased off after a couple of minutes. When he dropped his touch from me, I ached to have it back and shivered. He shuffled closer, and I waited for him to put an arm around me, strained for it even, but he didn’t.

  “Yes. I should know about this drafty old place. I’ve lived here my whole life.”

  Bishop tapped my nose in the most frustrating way that had me swiping at
his hand, but he was already gone. He strolled to a tapestry at the end of the hall and moved it aside.

  “There’s nothing there.”

  He motioned me forward, and I rolled my eyes, but did as he asked and went to his side. He took out a large, wicked-looking blade that he kept on his belt and jammed it into a crack in the corner of the wall.

  “You’re going to ruin your knife,” I commented blandly.

  He grunted and strained, and I was truly afraid for his blade, but I gasped as the wall moved slightly away to the left. He sheathed the blade again and got his fingers into the crack he’d made. His huge biceps bulged under the long black shirt he wore, as he put muscle into his efforts. The wall slid open and a small entryway became obvious.

  “I’m only opening it enough to squeeze through because I’m not sure I’ll be able to close it on the other side.”

  “What in the nine circles of hell?” I murmured. “How did you know about this? I didn’t know this.” I stared at him, anxious tendrils of fear sneaking into my stomach as I turned my attention to the yawning darkness beyond.

  “All dragon-built castles have a way out from the top floor that isn’t the main staircase. It was just a matter of finding the entrance on the other side. I don’t think it’s been used since the place was built.” His low voice shivered over me.

  “Well, this is just great. No one ever tells me anything around here. Does everyone know? What if I had needed to know about it?” I shoved at him as if it was his fault, and he grunted and turned to glare. I couldn’t bring myself to care, though. A slow-moving rage, one I had been long denying, heated my cheeks in new ways and had my head feeling like it would burst.

  “Now you know.”

  “Lovely.”

  “No more talking,” he said, and gestured me through. I went first, carefully feeling my way down a few steps. I pressed myself against the wall to make room for him in the passage. Dust covered the railing that I gripped. He tried to close the door behind us, but soon gave up.

  “Don’t move.”

  “Yeah, there’s no light at all, I can’t see. I was planning on waiting for you and your dragon sight.” I held out my hand blindly toward him. “I need more light than this, even though I’m more sensitive than a pure human. Now what?”

  He took something out of his pocket and a blinding slice of light flooded the corridor. I stared downward along a steep set of stares. The narrow brick he held in his hand radiated light from the end in the most fantastic fashion. I snatched it from him and looked it all over. There was a bright front that moved when my fingers slid over it.

  “What is this?”

  “A cellphone.”

  “Marvelous. Does it do anything besides make light?”

  He snatched it back. “Many things.”

  “Is it magic?”

  “Machine,” he responded gruffly, but he sounded angry, so I followed him quietly down the stairs with my bag bouncing against my side. He pocketed his treasure when we reached the bottom and snatched my hand with his. Tingles swarmed me as his warm skin enveloped my fingers. We exited a door into what smelled like a tunnel, damp and earthen. He let me go and leaned over to do something near the wall, and bright lights flared on overhead. I gaped at the globes of glass that seemed illuminated from the insides without the typical smoke scent of lamps that should tinge the air.

  “What is going on?”

  He didn’t say anything, only walked comfortably forward under the brilliant light, as if he hadn’t just performed a miracle. Uneasily, I followed beside him. Eventually the floor seemed to slope up and we came to a set of rust-splotched red metal doors. He shoved them open and we emerged into a flat grassy spot, a type of meadow that seemed man-made.

  “This was too easy,” he said under his breath. I didn’t think he meant for me to hear him.

  “I couldn’t have done it alone, so it wasn’t easy to me.” Bishop lifted an eyebrow in my direction and put a hand on my back.

  “Move quickly.” He pushed me forward faster toward a yellow box of metal with tires like a wagon I had once… made of rubber, if I recalled the material correctly. He took me to the piece of equipment and opened the door.

  “What is this?”

  “It’s my Jeep. Most people call these vehicles cars or trucks. There are different kinds. We travel in it. Nothing about this transition will be easy if you’re serious right now.”

  I blinked at him, and he sighed.

  “You want me to get in?”

  “Yes. Faster is better, unless you want to go back to Vince.”

  “No, thanks.” I climbed inside and sat gingerly on the seat, which was comfortable. He closed the door after me. The interior smelled strange, but clean, and a lot like leather. He got in on the other side and dropped the cellphone he’d used to make light onto my lap. He used a key on his metal machine and it roared to life, sounding very much like a dragon. I grinned. Lights lit up in front of us with various numbers, and it all seemed very technical.

  “This is a machine! Like from a Jules Verne novel.”

  “Where did you read one of those?” he asked and glanced behind us. He flipped something beside the wheel in front of him, and lights blazed on in ahead of us, lighting up the trees and a small road. He took his light machine—the cellphone—out of his pocket and looked at something on it before he dumped it into a small holder between our seats.

  “My aunties have a secret stash of books.” I grinned at him as the machine continued to grumble like it was hungry then I picked up the cellphone. The bright window lit up as soon as I moved it.

  “What is the purpose of this if it isn’t only light?”

  “That little thing represents just about everything you’re going to have to catch up on to be part of the twenty-first century.”

  What in the world? I blinked at him and gasped, my mind in a freefall. “Excuse me? Did you say twenty-first?”

  He grinned, and my heart lurched. The happy expression changed his face entirely, making it less rugged and far more enticing, which was bad, because I’d already been dreaming about him while I touched myself.

  “Last I checked, anyway. You’re in for a shock.”

  “Too late,” I muttered, “I’m already dumbfounded.”

  He laughed and did something with a stick between our seats. “You may want to use the seatbelt.”

  “The what?”

  The machine lurched forward, and I grabbed at the seat under me. His hearty laughter was a tune I could get used to hearing.

  5

  Bishop

  In spite of what I’d said to Evan, this mission to spring him from Redcap country did seem far too easy. Vince’s defenses were terrible, and I wasn’t sure how he’d kept the Cloud Dragons out, let along anyone else. His major advantage was that no one had known about Evan before we’d visited with Carlisle, and he’d relied on that fact too heavily to keep his prize, Evan, safe.

  “Oh, I’m not sure about all this,” Evan said as we went over a particularly deep rut. His hand flew to the dash and he jolted all over the place in his seat.

  “Buckle.”

  “What?”

  I pointed at the shoulder strap where it hung unused on his right, and he turned that way, tugging on it. There was a mighty struggle while he tried to drag the strap down, but he didn’t have the angle just right and it got stuck. He tugged and huffed. “Maybe I should go back. I’m already not sure what I’m doing.”

  He seemed to be muttering to himself, but I answered him anyway. “Do you want to go back?”

  He sent me a sharp, scared glare. “No, but…” He studied my phone that he still had gripped firmly in his hand, and then gingerly handed it back to me. I shoved it into my pocket while he finally wrestled the seatbelt free to buckle himself. He brushed a hand over the dash and cast me a look out of the corner of his eye. “This is not what I expected. Not by a longshot.”

  “Stop this.” Hearing him debate leaving me for his home had my
throat feeling narrow, like I was trying to cite in a kill on the other side of a great distance. I refused to think about why his attitude bothered me so much. “You made a decision over two weeks ago. You wanted to go then. You left willingly with me this time. You were ready for an adventure.”

  “I was. You’re right.” He didn’t sound like he believed me, though.

  “No more second-guessing yourself. You wanted to go. I made it happen. The end.”

  He cringed from me toward his door, and I was getting ready to maybe think about apologizing, he was an omega, and a divine one at that, after all, but then he simply said, “You’re right.”

  Evan’s skin was so pale that I could see it pink up in the dim light from the dashboard. He cleared his throat and turned more of his attention toward me. I cursed and ignored him when I nearly bounced us into a tree on the narrow trail. He was going to get us killed simply by existing. Was that his fault or mine? He was too entrancing.

  “You know, not many people talk to me that way.” He sniffed and stared out his window.

  “Not surprised there. Your uncle and all his minions think the sun shines directly out of your ass.”

  He made a small irritable sound that was more amusing than annoying. “Where are we going in your machine? Do you get many comments on it? Did you build it yourself? It’s quite clever…” The tone of his voice was admiring, but I didn’t have an expression to go with it since I was carefully avoiding looking at him. I could probably take us to my house through a bunch of back roads, lie to him, let him think I was amazing and brilliant, and then take his body over and over again while he held me in high esteem. I could hide from the world with him. The fact that the idea even crossed my mind sent dread through me. That wasn’t right. I didn’t normally think that way, but I wanted him more than I’d ever wanted anyone else I’d come across. My heart raced. No, I couldn’t do that to him. I couldn’t become his new jailer, even if having him all to myself was so good I could practically taste that sweetness of his that filled the air.