Fury of Shadows: Dragonfury Series: SCOTLAND #2 Page 7

  The thought left a bad taste in his mouth.

  Elise belonged to him. Which meant he must get her moving. No way would he introduce her to his warriors while wrapped in naught more than a sheer excuse for a sheet.

  Gathering the thin cotton in one hand, he wrapped it over her legs and nudged her with his chin. Tendrils of her hair brushed against his skin. The scent of vanilla and crushed almonds rose. Hmm, yum—she smelled delicious, like fresh baked cookies and the creamer he put in his coffee every day. Humming in pleasure, he did it again, rubbing the strands along his jaw, over his mouth and—

  She grumbled at him. His mouth curved. So pretty. Beyond precious. A sleepy female not ready to get up for the day.

  He would’ve liked to appease her. Cuddling her all evening seemed like an excellent idea. Shite, holding her was no hardship, but as Cyprus heard a thump above his head, he knew Levin’s feet had just hit the floor. Somewhere up on the third floor of the house, Kruger was no doubt doing the same. And Wallaig? He fine-tuned his sonar, picking up trace energy, tracking the unique signal his first in command dropped like napalm in his wake and…ah, right there. Camped out in the kitchen, no doubt laid out on the floor guarding the rear entrance.

  “Elise?”

  “Hmm?” She tipped her head back. Out of focus, bloodshot eyes met his. She blinked, wet lashes forming perfect triangles against her skin.

  “Fair warning, lass. We’re moving.”

  She frowned.

  Cyprus didn’t wait for the objection he saw spark in her eyes to develop. Only an idiot waited to be scolded, so instead of asking, he gathered her up and pushed to his feet. Cradled in his arms, she squeaked in alarm. He almost smiled, but stopped at that last second. Laughing at her wouldn’t win him any points, and an angry female would be harder to deal with, never mind hold. And goddess, he wanted to continue holding her. She felt like heaven against him: soft and curvy, warm and pleasing, sheer perfection as he skirted the end of the couch and headed for the large archway. “Hold on tae me, talmina.”

  “Put me down, Cyprus. I can walk.”

  “Not yet. You can try in an hour or two. Until then, you keep your weight on your good leg.” Treating her to a no-nonsense look, he jostled her a wee bit. “Agreed?”

  Chewing on her bottom lip, no doubt trying to decide whether to listen, she wiggled her toes and bent her knee. Her mouth tightened, broadcasting her pain. His gut clenched, then relaxed again when she slid her arm around his neck. “Guess I’m not all better yet, eh?”

  “It takes time.”

  “Not a whole lot. I mean, it’s amazing I feel as well as I do, considering…” The strain in her voice strung him tight. Inhaling deep, she exhaled slow and, smoothing the sheet, rubbed the top of her injured thigh. Once…twice…a third stroke before she abandoned the soothing motion and looked up at him. “How did you do it?”

  “What—heal you?” Looking both ways, he stepped into the main hallway.

  “Yeah.” A shadow entered her eyes, dimming the blue. “There was a lot of blood. I remember thinking my kidney was probably gone. I think…” She paused. He watched her throat work and felt his own tighten. “I’m pretty sure I should be dead.”

  “I would never have allowed that tae happen,” he said, his chest hurting at the thought. “You were mine the moment I spoke tae you inside the church, Elise.”

  “Another mystery.” She shook her head, no doubt trying to puzzle out mind-speak…and the connection she now shared with him. “I have so many questions.”

  “Good. I will answer them all, but first…” Footfalls softened by a runner, he walked down a narrow corridor. Five doors. Cyprus nudged each one open with naught more than a thought, looking for the bathroom on the main level of the house. He knew it was here. Old houses followed predictable patterns, the floor plans easy to guess and…the last door on the right yielded results. Shoving the wood panel with his bare foot, he crossed the threshold. Big room with a large shower. Black and white tiles. Fully renovated. Perfect for his purposes. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

  “God, yes. I could use a shower.” The eagerness in her voice cleared the heaviness from his heart. She pointed to the bathmat in front of the glass door. “If you put me down over there and turn on the water, I’ll just—”

  He chuckled. A nice try, but no chance she would be getting her way. Or he would be leaving her to bathe alone. “I’ll not be putting you down, lass.”

  Her grip on his neck tightened. “What?”

  No need to answer. Elise would learn what he planned soon enough.

  Releasing her legs, he allowed her feet to touch the floor. She wobbled. He steadied her, making sure she balanced on her good leg before tugging on the sheet. The cotton slipped off her shoulders, exposing the graceful curve of her back.

  She made a frantic grab for the covering. “Hey!”

  He pulled again.

  A death grip on the sheet, she shook her head.

  “I’ve seen every inch of you already, Elise. I stroked you while you slept, enjoyed the softness of your skin, the fine curve of your hips and the taste of your energy. Jesus, lass. You’re gorgeous.”

  Hot color stole into her cheeks. She opened her mouth, closed it again.

  His lips curved. He knew he shouldn’t be enjoying her embarrassment, but well…hey. Might as well admit it. He liked her modesty along with the slow rise of her blush. “Let go, Elise. Let me look at you. Allow me the pleasure of bathing with you.”

  Color still high, blue eyes as big as saucers, she stared at him. He tugged the sheet again. Her grip loosened. A second later, she allowed it to fall, and he hummed in approval. Bloody hell. He wanted to lick her all over, staring with the trim, blond curls between her thighs.

  His dragon growled, liking the plan.

  Cyprus shut it down. Elise needed gentle reassurance, not an intense brute plagued by lusty thoughts. At least, not right now. Today wasn’t the time for laying her down and loving her hard. Mayhap later, after he’d taken her a few times—after he owned all her trust—she might enjoy a bit of rough bed play, but not tonight.

  Trailing his fingertips over her collar bone, he cupped her shoulder, turned her around and…goddess help him. Her arse was as gorgeous as the rest of her, round and pert, just the right size for his hands. Pushing the length of her hair over one shoulder, he stoked along her spine. His hand slid over her lower back, testing the skin, checking her kidney, looking for any problems. A wee bit red yet, but the spot she’d been sliced open looked good. One hundred percent healed.

  Brushing over her hip, he flattened his palm against her belly. She sucked in a startled breath. He whispered in her ear. “Such a good lass, letting me touch as I like.”

  “Cyprus—”

  “You’re beautiful, Elise. Like a fairy princess come tae life, so sweet and curvy. Perfect beneath my hands.”

  The rigidity of her spine softened. “I’m not perfect.”

  He cupped her cheek. Caressing her softly, he brushed over her bottom lip. “You are tae me.”

  Tears filled her eyes.

  Dipping his head, he kissed her gently. Such a sensitive lass, not at all accustomed to compliments. He would change that—tell her every damn day she was beautiful if only to see the wonder he saw blooming on her face right now. Unable to resist, he nipped her lip. Elise gasped. He soothed the wee sting with his tongue, licking at her mouth as he unleashed magic and cranked the tap facets. The pipes jerked before the water came on, falling from the shower head in a steady stream. Cyprus tested it with his mind. Too cold. He adjusted the temperature, warming each droplet, ensuring Elise’s comfort before opening the door.

  One arm curled around her, he nudged her forward. “In you go, lass.”

  “I can wash myself,” she said, voice soft, without an ounce of conviction.

  “Why bother when you’ve got me tae do it?”

  Kissing her one more time, he lifted her over the threshold and stepped in behind her. W
arm water hit her in a fine spray and splashed onto him. Reveling in the slippery slide of her, he tipped her head back and wet her hair. She relaxed, leaning against him, allowing him to help her balance on one foot.

  He murmured his appreciation. The beginnings of trust. A good start, one that would carry him through the rest of evening and into hard truths in need of telling.

  A conversation was in order. He must reveal all and tell her about his kind. About energy-fuse, and the fact he’d mated her without asking for permission first. About Grizgunn too. The bastard had more than just hurt her. He’d ingested her energy, absorbing the unique signal Elise wore like a second skin. Now, she couldn’t return home and hope to stay safe.

  His enemies would track her the second she left his protection. As a high-energy female, his mate would be coveted by Dragonkind males the world over, and Grizgunn wasn’t stupid. He wouldn’t pass up a second attempt to take her. Which meant Elise’s safety now relied on her proximity to him.

  Unfair? No question. But real life didn’t play by the rules.

  He could only shield her so far. The life she knew was over. Goodbye human world, hello Dragonkind. The thought gave him pause. Worry poked at him. Cyprus pursed his lips and picked up the soap, wondering how best to tell Elise about her change in status, ’cause sure as shite, the second he revealed the truth, he knew his female would balk. And he’d be in for the fight of his life to keep her with him.

  Twelve

  Dressed in comfortable sweats, Elise sat alone at the dining room table, one thought circling like vultures over a dead body. She couldn’t go home…ever.

  Not if she wanted to stay alive.

  Amantha was going to kill her.

  Pain and regret tumbled through her as she thought of her best friend. She’d been there through thick and thin, a constant source of laughter and support. God, she was going to miss her snarky attitude. Her warped sense of humor and big-hearted generosity too. Throat gone tight, Elise set her elbow on the table and her chin in her palm. Maybe she could find a way to contact Amantha. Let her know that she was all right, not lying dead in a ditch somewhere. Her friend deserved to know. She didn’t want her to worry, and Amantha would boil over without news. Pace herself silly, eat too many sweets waiting for Elise to get in touch.

  Maybe she should mention it to Cyprus. A phone call wouldn’t hurt, would it?

  Elise chewed on the question, wondering what he would say…and if she’d be safe doing anything in the human world.

  Cyprus didn’t pull any punches. Or make any bones about how dangerous Edinburgh would be for her now. He’d been honest to the point of bluntness, explaining about Grizgunn and the asshole’s ability to track her if she left the safety Cyprus and his pack provided.

  Talk about a fist to the solar plexus. An hour had passed since the big reveal: talk of energy feedings and magical talents, the ability to shift between human and dragon form…her importance as a high-energy female in the Dragonkind world.

  The concept shook her foundation, yet made her feel special too. Worthy. Deserving of attention. Important to someone. Truly seen for the first time in years. It was as though she’d been waiting her entire life for someone to lift the veil and hand her the information.

  Which was weird. Not at all the right reaction.

  She should be running, screaming, freaking out in major ways. All she’d managed so far was an upset stomach. Elise frowned at the paisley table cloth. Ugly swirling pattern. Gaudy color combination. Zero panic in sight. Just a terrible case of indigestion as reality sank in, then reached out to nudge her. Again. For what seemed like the millionth time since Cyprus lifted her out of the shower, dried her off, and dressed her with nothing but a thought.

  Swallowing the awful taste in her mouth, Elise smoothed her hand over the sleeve of her dark orange sweatshirt. It was insane. Barely believable at all. He’d conjured clothes for her out of thin air. With nothing more than the wave of his hand.

  Magic, he said.

  A whole lot of crazy town, she thought (very quietly) to herself.

  No sense voicing her opinion and insulting him. After all Cyprus had done for her—holding her throughout the day, healing her injuries, letting her cry all over him—upsetting him somehow seemed rude. Like the worse sort of affront. Elise huffed. Not the Canadian way at all. Her countrymen would be appalled and—

  Her imbecilic train of thought proved it. She’d clearly lost her mind. Or what little remained of it, worrying more about hurting Cyprus’s feelings than finding a way home.

  “Talmina.”

  Jumping in her chair, her head snapped toward the door.

  Two plates in hand, Cyprus stood beneath the archway, so tall the top of his head brushed the lintel, so broad his shoulders blocked her view into the kitchen. Pale purple eyes met hers. “You’re stewing again.”

  “Can you blame me?” she asked, her gaze drifting over him. A frisson of excitement shivered through her. Man, get a load of him. He did something serious for her. She loved looking at him. Wanted to be back in the shower with her hands on him again. A sinking sensation pooled in her belly, vibrating between her hipbones. Pressing her thighs together, Elise cleared her throat, fighting to keep herself on task and her mind out of the gutter. “I just learned I’m food for Dragonkind.”

  “Not Dragonkind, just me.” His mouth curved as he walked toward her. Desire in his eyes, he looked her over, making her want and crave without laying a hand on her. “And what a pretty feast you make.”

  “Okay, that’s not helpful.” She squirmed in her seat. “I’m supposed to be thinking here, figuring things out, not—”

  “Lusting? Imagining the hot slide of my tongue over your skin?”

  “That’s…you…good grief.” Heat rocketed through her, blooming in unwise places. She scowled at him. “Do you have an off button?”

  “Nay. Not when it comes tae you.” Grinning like an evil sex god, he set a plate down in front of her. Placing the other dish to her left, he planted his hand on the tabletop and leaned over her.

  Unable to stop herself, Elise tipped her chin up. Her lips parted.

  With a growl, he accepted the invitation and, fisting his fingers in her hair, invaded her mouth. He took it deep, stroking her with his tongue, delivering his taste, giving her a contact high along with the pleasure. Her heart throbbed. Blood rushed in her ears, making her lightheaded. When she moaned, he drew away, gentling his grip, treating her to soft kisses instead of deep possession.

  Breathing hard, his mouth a hair’s breadth from hers, he hummed. “Fuck, you’re delicious. You make me forget myself.”

  “More,” she whispered, addicted to his taste. “Kiss me again.”

  Cyprus shook his head and, releasing her hair, retreated. “Eat, lass. We’ll get to the sex soon enough.”

  Sex. Sex with Cyprus.

  The thought shivered through her. Libidinous greed followed, running circles around her. Going to bed with him wouldn’t be polite. It would be down and dirty, hot and sweaty, so intense he would no doubt blow her mind. But wow, what a way to go. Elise nearly groaned as her imagination spun in dangerous directions. Round and round, one lust-fueled revolution churned into another, making desire rise so hard she couldn’t sit still, forcing her to admit…

  She wanted him…badly. So much she ached in tender places.

  Taking a seat, Cyprus tapped the edge of her plate with his fork. The clink made her blink. Elise forced her mind to refocus. After a second, her senses came back on line. The scent of grilled meat wafted into her airspace. Right. Food. He wanted her to eat something.

  Shifting in her chair, Elise stared at her plate. A steak, whole olives stuffed with almonds, and a small mound of corn. Looked good. Picking up her fork, she stabbed an olive. Halfway to her mouth, the sound of footfalls made her pause. She glanced toward the door. Three huge men walked beneath the archway and into the dining room. She froze, watching the group prowl like predators around the table. Plates
hit the hideous paisley cloth with a clang. Chairs scraped over the wooden floor.

  A large hand slid over her nape.

  She jumped in her seat.

  “Easy,” Cyprus murmured, his grip on her tightening. He pulled her closer. His mouth brushed her ear, helping to relieve some of her tension. “Elise, meet my warriors—Wallaig, Levin and Kruger.”

  She paid attention, nodding as Cyprus pointed at each one with his knife.

  Black-haired and green-eyed, Kruger tipped his chin.

  “Greetings, female,” Levin murmured, tiger gold gaze leveled on her. “Welcome.”

  “Thank you,” she said, shuffling closer to Cyprus before she turned toward the third man and…lost her ability to breathe. A ginger with gorgeous red hair and a cold expression on his face. Unsmiling. Intense. A badass, and if she were to guess, mean as hell too. But what arrested her attention more than the lethal vibe he projected was his eyes. Cloudy white irises, damaged pupils, one hundred percent blind. Not that she would mention it to the brutal looking warrior. Somehow, she didn’t think pointing out his deformity would go over well. Swallowing her fear, she murmured in greeting. “Good to meet you all.”

  The ginger-haired man growled.

  Cyprus shifted in his chair. “Wallaig—fuck off. Stop scaring my female.”

  One corner of Wallaig’s mouth turned up. “Yer a spoilsport, lad. No fun at all.”

  “Pay him no mind, Elise, he’s an arsehole,” Cyprus said, amusement in his voice. “And donnae worry about offending him either. Wallaig might be blind, but he sees just fine.”

  Elise stared at Cyprus a second before curiosity got the best of her. She returned her attention to his warrior. “Seriously? How is that possible?”

  “She’s a brave one, Cy, I’ll grant ye that.” With a sigh, pretending her question annoyed him, Wallaig pulled a chair out and sat down on the other side of the table, directly across from her. “’Tis simple enough, lass. Cyprus explained the energy exchange to you, aye?”

  Popping the olive in her mouth, she chewed. “Yes.”