Page 15

ELEVEN

MAC

Unleashing my dragon around Drax may have been a bad idea.

Even with the beast back under wraps, I can feel the smugness rolling off of him in spades.

Like the stupid, fire-breathing lizard is expecting me to go ahead and agree with him about how right it felt to have Drax’s fingers caressing my scales as he climbed onto my back, how perfect he smelled to my sensitive dragon nose, how real our bond felt with all my human thoughts on the backburner.

I shake my head to clear the memory of looking at the demon fully through my dragon eyes and focus on the task at hand.

Rune’s cabin. The stone structure can’t be more than a single small room, and the sagging roof looks like it’s being kept up through sheer force of will…

or, more likely, magic. But something tells me gravity will win this one eventually, whether Rune likes it or not.

The electric scent of magic hangs in the air, along with the faint odor of piss, so I’m guessing that single room inside doesn’t include a toilet.

I wrinkle my nose and start for the door, but before I can get more than a couple of steps, Drax grabs my arm.

“Wait, what’s the plan?” he asks quietly. I’m not sure if there’s a whisper quiet enough to keep Rune from hearing us if he is inside. Aside from the wind, the mountainside is completely silent.

I shrug. “Knock on the door and ask him to give us the cursed amulet?”

Drax gives me a flat, unimpressed look. “I think you are very smart and good at stealing things, but perhaps planning and strategy aren’t your greatest strengths?”

“Wow, that’s cold.” I laugh. “The next time you’re going to come for me that hard, send a car.”

He cocks his head and furrows his brow with confusion.

I wave dismissively. “It’s an expression. Forget it. What do you think we should do?”

He turns his attention back to the cabin and stares at it for a second before he releases his grip on my arm.

“It doesn’t matter. Rune isn’t here.”

“He’s not?” I rub the back of my neck. “Well, shit. I guess we should head to Japan then?”

Drax shakes his head. “Let’s check his home first. There might be useful information inside, about where he is or the best way to barter with him for that amulet.”

A spark of awe ignites in my chest. “That’s really smart.”

His lips twitch with a smile. “I’ve been doing this a long time.”

I want to ask how long. What kinds of things has he done for Auri?

Is there anything he regrets? Is he happy?

The desire to peel back his layers and get to know more about him startles me.

I’m going to go ahead and chalk that up to my dragon still being too close to the surface.

I force the urge to pepper Drax with questions back into the depths of my mind and focus on the house again.

“Alright, let’s check it out. Maybe he has valuables we can steal and then trade back to him in exchange for the amulet.”

“Now you’re thinking.” Drax smiles, letting go of my arm as we both start towards the cabin. “That’s why Auri recruited you. Remember that and trust your instincts.”

I stumble over my steps. Recruited me? It didn’t occur to me that Auri was there on that street right when I needed an escape on purpose .

How long was he watching me before that?

How much does he know about me? I shiver, but I don’t have long to contemplate the uncomfortable reality of Drax’s words before he reaches the cabin door and wrenches it open unceremoniously.

I scramble after him, sneezing at the musty smell that spills out from inside as I reach the doorway.

The floorboards creak under my feet as I step inside, and the magic tickling my nose takes on a more sour note. Bile rises in my throat, and images of Belinda’s barely alive skeleton fill my mind.

“He was here recently, with the locket.” Drax confirms what my nose tells me.

The cabin is as small as I expected, with just enough room for a small kitchen, a single bed against the wall, and an empty spot on the floor where he’s drawn a chalk circle, I’m assuming for some kind of ritual.

Once I manage to clear the rancid scent from my nose, I can smell smoke and charred wood.

I march over to the stove and put my hand on it.

“Still warm. He can’t have left more than a few hours ago,” I announce. “Do you think Alenor warned him?”

Drax shakes his head. “Even with the time it took to circle in the air and spot the cabin, it hasn’t been long enough for Rune to have gotten out of here without us knowing about it.”

“Right. So let’s toss this place and see what we can find.”

He grunts in agreement, and we get to work digging through Rune’s pitiful belongings.

He calls this a hoard? My dragon scoffs at the idea.

There isn’t much to find except dried herbs and animal bones.

I reach under his bed and my fingers brush something that feels like it might be a book.

I slide it out and grip the cover to open it, but it doesn’t budge.

“That’s weird,” I mutter, tugging on it a little harder, working my nails into the small gap between the cover and the pages. An electric zap bites at my fingers, making me yelp and drop the book.

“What’s wrong?” Drax hurries over to me, eyeing the book suspiciously.

“That book just zapped me.” I nudge it with my foot and glare at it.

He grips my wrist and brings my hand to his face, his nostrils flaring as he sniffs my fingers. His eyes darken immediately, and a growl vibrates between his teeth.

“It had a curse on it. Don’t worry, it’s only a small one.”

“A small curse?” I try to tug my hand away, but Drax tightens his grip. “What the hell is a small curse? Am I going to shrivel up like Belinda? Is my dick going to fall off?”

“No, only your fingers,” he says calmly.

“My fingers?” I yelp again.

For supposedly being my mate, Drax seems offensively cavalier about the idea of my fingers falling off.

“I said ‘don’t worry,’ pretty dragon. I can fix it.”

“How are you gooooo…” My demand turns into a moan, and I stumble forward, bracing my free hand against his sturdy chest while he wraps that insanely skilled tongue of his around my tingling fingers.

My cock swells. I try to claw back the pulse of lust before it can reach the bond, but it’s impossible, like trying to stop the wind.

Drax rumbles a pleased sound around my fingers, and the numb tingling feeling vanishes.

I at least manage to swallow the whimper that tightens in my throat as he uncurls his tongue from around my fingers.

He strides over to the open door and opens his mouth, letting out a puff of noxious green smoke that rises into the air and quickly disappears into the dark sky.

“All better,” he announces.

I flex my damp fingers a few times just to check that they’re working, and then I nod.

“Thank you.” I clear my throat and look at the book on the floor. “It’s pretty much the only thing that has the potential to be valuable in this whole place. So, I guess we should take it with us?” I bend down to pick it up, and Drax’s strong arms wrap around my waist, hauling me back.

“Do you have a death wish, dragon?”

“It only cursed me when I tried to open it,” I argue, and he rolls his eyes.

“I’d rather not risk it.” He grabs the pillow off the bed and shakes it out of the flannel pillowcase, then he uses the case to pick up the book so he doesn’t have to touch it directly. “Why don’t we take this back to the compound, then go see if we can track Rune down in Japan tomorrow?”

I nod in agreement, and reach for Drax’s free hand without thinking, twining my fingers through his so he can take us home.

DRAX

I can feel the faint buzz of magic even through the fabric of the pillowcase.

It vibrates harder when we reach the underworld, but nothing concerning.

If Rune went to the trouble of cursing it, there might be something valuable inside.

I’ll give it to Atlas in the morning so he can try his luck with it.

Gargoyles are immune to mage magic, so even if he can’t manage to open it, it won’t curse him if he tries.

Mac feels jittery through our bond, but he puts on a show of yawning and steps towards his bedroom.

“I’m pretty beat, so I think I’m just going to…” He points over his shoulder to his door but doesn’t dart inside immediately. He lingers for several seconds, his eyes boring into mine, something needy and intoxicating hanging between us and warming its way through our mating bond.

My cock hardens as the scent of his lust reaches my nose, and I take a step forward.

“Good night,” he says in a hurry, snapping out of whatever had him rooted in place and darting inside his bedroom, closing the door forcefully behind himself.

My mate is very strange, but I think I like that about him. He isn’t predictable. I don’t understand him, and there’s something refreshing about that. Something exciting about it.

I can feel him breathing a small sigh of relief now that there’s a door between us.

I take a step back, guilt twisting in my gut.

I must still be doing this all wrong. My shoulders sag and I go into my own bedroom.

I slink over to my bed and crawl under the covers, inhaling deeply in the hope of finding some stray, lingering hint of Mac’s scent from the night he slept in here almost a week ago.

It’s useless though. I would give my horns to have my bed smell like my mate again.

Hades, I would give my horns for one small hint about how to make him see that our bond isn’t an accident or a mistake.

A little tug at the center of my chest captures my interest, and then our bond floods with a rush of heat.

Longing, neediness, an ache deep in my gut that draws a whimper from my throat.

“Mate,” I whisper, sitting up instantly. He needs me.

I reach between my legs to palm my hardening cock, and I strain to listen for Mac on the other side of the wall.

A soft gasp has me scrambling onto my knees to press my ear to the wall.

The plaster feels cool against my cheek, my hard cock bumping against my headboard as I hold my breath so I can hear him without my own harsh rasps getting in the way.

Another tug at our bond, and electricity floods my body as if Mac’s hand was on my cock instead of his own.

I swallow a groan and melt a little more against the wall, wishing I could pass right through it and land in my mate’s bed.

My claws dig into the drywall unintentionally, crumbling the plaster under my nails.

Mac’s bed creaks quietly and his breathing gets louder.

And then, something even sweeter than his moans…

“ Drax ,” Mac whines my name.

I snake my tongue along the smooth wall, imagining I can taste Mac’s skin instead of the dull flavor of stale paint. My hips jerk involuntarily, dragging my cock against the smooth, carved wood of my headboard.

“Drax,” he pants again.

Does he need me? Should I go to him? My muscles tremble and I grit my teeth against a needy groan.

My mate.

My mate.

My mate.

Mac moans louder and our bond explodes with pulsing waves of pleasure.

Without a hand on my cock, he pulls me along with him into the oblivion of an orgasm, my cum painting the headboard and splattering against the wall, my teeth nearly cracking with the effort of staying silent, and my heart racing with the restraint it takes not to claw the wall to dust just to be with my mate and taste his release again.

I sag against, gulping down breaths, and a smile twists my lips.

He was thinking of me…