Page 10

“If the sky could dream, it would dream of dragons.”

— Llona Andrews

Ben did not sleep a wink.

He didn’t need to. Didn’t want to. Not when he could indulge in every sensation of holding his Mate while she slept. Feeling and hearing her breathe peacefully in his arms. Absorbing her fragrant warmth and softness.

And watch her slowly come awake in the drowsy light of morning.

He’d doffed his pants in the middle of the night, after she’d fallen asleep, so he wouldn’t disturb her. He was nude now, just like her.

But he was naked to her in ways she was not to him.

Not yet.

Her breathing shifted gradually, a deep sigh sifting out of her as her lips curled at the corners in a cat-like smile.

Her dreams seem to be giving her pleasure. He was glad. He shared them with her, using the power of the Dream and Song rings he wore.

Over time, he knew that her dreams grew clearer, losing their fuzzy, misty quality. She still hadn’t seen his face yet in any of the incarnations before his current one.

But she always knew it was him. And she felt him in all his forms when he made love to her in those dreams. Reminding her of the rightness between them even when the darker memories loomed.

One day soon, she would remember. He didn’t want her to focus on the bad things. The pain. He wanted her to choose him and fight for him because of the good things. The joy.

He wanted her to be brave when she was confronted with her self . To believe, once and for all, that she was worthy of love. No matter what happened in the past. No matter all the ways she’d hurt him, as well as others.

He’d do it all over again without changing a thing for just one lifetime of love. He’d wait an eternity to claim it.

Except, right this moment, his body protested his mental determination.

One of the other reasons he hadn’t slept a wink was because he’d been hard and aching all night long. He hadn’t done anything about it because he didn’t want to wake her, but also because he knew his own hand wouldn’t assuage the need.

Not by a long shot.

At last, her wispy straight lashes fluttered open. Light gray eyes looked into his.

He reveled in the way a bright light entered them along with recognition—she was happy to see him.

She ducked her head a little and covered her mouth with her fingers.

“Good morning,” she murmured a little shyly.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he rumbled.

A pretty blush made her cheeks rosy. He noticed the first time he used the endearment that it had that effect on her. Which was why he used it often.

“Why are you hiding your face?” he asked.

“Morning breath,” she confessed sheepishly.

A corner of his mouth quirked with amusement.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

“I wouldn’t want to test it,” she whispered.

“Your breath, on the other hand, smell minty and fresh all the time,” she said. “Is this dragon magic too? The way you can disappear clothes when you transform? Can you conjure whatever fashion you want when you become human again? And clean yourself too in the process?”

Ah. She was ready to ask more questions. For the most part, he was ready to answer them.

“If you smell mint on my breath it’s because I’ve showered and brushed my teeth earlier,” he told her.

“Oh.”

“As to fashion choices,” he went on, “no, I can’t just conjure whatever I want. What I wore when I transformed is what I’ll wear when I shed the Beast.”

She blinked those wolf-like sexy eyes at him, hanging on his every word, the shadowy cast of her lower lashes making their unique shape even more dramatic.

“There are Immortals, however, who have the ability to shift not only their forms but also what they wear,” he informed her.

“My sire, for example, is especially rare in this respect.”

“Your sire?”

“I call him my Uncle Ere. When you meet him,”—when not if, Ben would make sure of it—“you would think he’s younger than me. His immortal form looks to be a young man in his twenties, while I came into my immortality when I was thirty. Besides, some people will always look older or younger no matter their true age.”

She digested this for a few seconds. And then—

“You’re perfect,” she said.

His eyes crinkled.

“No, I’m not. But it certainly helps my ego that you think so.”

She subtly rolled her eyes.

“I’m sure every woman you meet thinks the same. Likely all the men too.”

“I don’t care about what anyone else thinks. Only you,” he said.

She was quiet again for a while, simply looking at him. Taking his measure.

“You must have had many women,” she murmured, her tone slightly begrudging, slightly challenging.

“I’m pretty sure that kiss…isn’t how men typically kiss.”

“It’s how I kiss you ,” he emphasized.

“And if you’re asking me how many women I’ve been intimate with…”

He reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on the soft skin of her cheek before pulling away.

“Only you,” he vowed.

“There’s only ever been you.”

He could read clearly the doubt on her face. She didn’t argue, but she didn’t believe him.

He didn’t try to convince her. She would learn the truth eventually.

“Well…you’re the only man I’ve been this…intimate with too,” she finally murmured.

“I’m glad,” he said.

His swift, growly affirmation made her blush again, making him wonder where else that hot color had spread.

After a while, she asked, getting back to the other topic, “Who do you call Dad then? Or is it different with Immortals?”

“I do have a Dad,” he told her. “His name is Gabriel. My mom is Inanna. Ironically, she’s Ere’s twin sister. It’s a long story, but they are the parents who raised me from boyhood. I also have grandparents on Inanna and Ere’s side. Their names are Tal-Telal and Ishtar Anshar.”

“I love their names,” she said. “Ere means Darkness or Dusk, doesn’t it?”

He inclined his head, impressed with her knowledge despite that he knew she possessed a Doctorate in the study of ancient civilizations.

“And Gabriel is of course the Archangel. His name means Hero of God, among other interpretations. Inanna is…Sumerian in origin?”

He dipped his head again.

“Lady of Heaven,” she recalled. “She was an important goddess in their mythology. And Tal-Telal means…something about strength and warrior.”

“The mightiest,” he concurred.

“And finally, Ishtar Anshar—Heaven’s Brightest Star.”

She sighed.

“What beautiful names. Yours too. Benjamin Larkin D’Angelo. Son of the Right Hand. Warrior Angel.”

“Mmm,” he mused, baring his teeth in a satisfied smile. “I’ve always thought I have a badass name.”

She tilted her head a little, her gaze clear and intense.

“Sometimes when you smile, you look like a little boy. But I can tell that you also have a very old soul.”

No truer words. It gave him hope that she truly saw him. Not merely his outer trappings.

“Are all of your family Immortals?” she asked.

“Yes. I am blessed that I have them beyond the limits of human lifespans. Immortals may still be killed, but we are not susceptible to aging, and therefore, a natural death.”

“Wow,” she breathed in wonder.

It took her a few beats to digest that.

“What must it be like to live forever. Or what feels like forever,” she mused mostly to herself.

“If you don’t know when the end might come, wouldn’t time seem infinite? Would you care about things as much? Would you even let yourself? All living things eventually die, after all. What does it feel like to go on when everything else is gone?”

He took his time answering her. These were not simply curious questions. She possessed a deeply philosophical spirit.

“Because you don’t know when the end might come, and for us, despite our immortality, our end might come at any moment—every day is precious,” he said at length.

“There is much violence and chaos in our world. Because of our long lives and fast healing abilities, hence our eternal youth, we also endure more pain, far beyond the human ken.”

“Oh,” she whispered, eyes wide.

“Tal, my grandfather, had been held prisoner and tortured daily for thousands of years.”

“T-thousands…” she stuttered, looking horrified.

“It’s why he’s scarred and looks brittle despite being an Immortal. But he is the strongest man I know,” he said fiercely.

“You asked whether we care about things. Everyone is different, just like every human is different. There are those who abuse their power with bored carelessness and apathy. But there are also those who feel more deeply, with an unwavering constancy, than any mortal ever could.”

He could see the question in her eyes.

What kind of Immortal are you?

He answered with his direct, honest gaze.

What do you think, Lizzy?

“And I suppose all Immortals are supernaturally beautiful like you?” she asked eventually, taking a less serious tone, looking at him a little slyly, a little shyly.

“You are more beautiful to me than any goddess, Lizzy,” he said by way of reply.

“Pshaw,” she dismissed. “I don’t need flattery. I have eyes.”

He squinted at her, both charmed and a little offended at her self-deprecation.

“If you want to be scientific about it,” he said, “then yes, Immortals tend to be more attractive than humans. Our bodies are always optimally fit, our skin unblemished, and our hair and teeth shiny and new. Youth is usually more attractive to most people. But it depends on the eye of the beholder, don’t you think?”

She stared at him with unblinking eyes, fully absorbed in his words.

“Tal is the only Immortal I know who looks to be in his forties by human standards. He is badly scarred as I mentioned and also blind. His hair is a brittle-looking platinum white. But my grandmother thinks he’s the most magnificent male she’s ever seen. You can always see it in her eyes when she looks upon him.”

She mulled over this and nodded slowly, understanding dawning.

“My parents are the same,” she said. “Mom could have a bad hair day, pillow creases on her face and a grumpy attitude before she has her morning coffee, but Dad always calls her his goddess. They’re so dorky sometimes. But I love it. I love how they’re still so in love.”

He smiled.

“Don’t hide your face, Lizzy,” he entreated, pulling her fingers away from her mouth and pulling her hair back over her shoulders to leave her bare to his appreciative view.

“Not from me.”

“And if your breath is truly unbearable,” he added, “I will be the first to tell you.”

She smiled at him, blushing again.

How he adored her blushes!

“Okay,” she said.

Like two giddy teenagers, they smiled dopey smiles at each other for the longest time.

“So…” she said after a while.

“You’re naked.”

“Mmm,” he rumbled.

“May I…” she hesitated.

Subliminally, he encouraged her to be brave.

“May I see you?” she finally asked.

He stretched his muscles in a back-cracking, feline stretch, and almost laughed out loud when her eyes went enormously round.

“How do you want me?” he practically purred.

She was clearly thinking this through. It took so long, he wondered if she was doing advanced calculus in her head.

It was a simple question. Surely the answer couldn’t be so hard to determine.

“Lie back,” she squeaked out eventually in a thin, breathy voice.

“Hands behind your head,” she added at the end with more confidence.

He grinned beatifically at her.

“As you wish.”

He lay back against the pillows while she scooted to give him room to spread out. He took up almost the entire King-sized bed, splayed like this. After all, he was a large man.

The sheet pooled around his hips, tenting over his undying erection, making her eyes all but bug out of her head at the sight.

She licked her lips several times, and he had to stifle a groan. His cock shuddered and jerked, leaking pre-cum through its swollen slit.

Her eyes zeroed in on the wet spot spreading at the tip, and she swallowed hard.

“May I…touch you?” she rasped, staring at the length and thickness of his need beneath the thin sheet.

It would be torture to feel her hands and lips on him without taking her fully, Ben knew. But he was a glutton for punishment when it came to her.

Always.

“Whatever you want from me, Lizzy, take it,” he growled.

“You never have to ask permission.”

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

It occurred to Lizzy just as she was about to reach out and touch Ben’s gold-dusted chest that she very likely did have morning breath, her hair must be a straggly mess, and her face lined with pillow creases.

It was how she usually woke up in the morning. Ergo, she shouldn’t expect a goddess-like complexion to miraculously appear on her face today.

Furthermore, she was always one to take her showers at night. She loved going to bed clean and nice smelling. But she’d been…too distracted to shower last night (she wouldn’t mind being distracted like that every night, so she wasn’t complaining). And she worried sex sweat wasn’t the aphrodisiac romance novels made it out to be.

If she was going to repay the favor to Ben for the most awesomest birthday present in the history of birthday presents, she felt like she should at least put herself together beforehand.

“Stay right there,” she told him.

“Right here,” he repeated with a growly tone that was both a challenge and a confirmation, flexing his magnificent pecs and tensing his corrugated abs into steel to emphasize the point.

“Just like that,” she croaked, involuntarily licking her lips at the mouth-watering sight he made.

With his biceps bulging, hands beneath his head, most of his golden torso naked upon the pristine white sheets, the coverlet only barely covering his groin, and only because it was caught on his mighty erection, he looked like the sexiest of sex gods lying there. Heck, he might as well have been sex and orgasms incarnate.

She stood there like a deer caught in headlights, half off the bed, half still on, arrested in the motion of getting up, simply taking him in.

One hip was bare, and she could see the tantalizing muscle that sat right on top of the bone there, a perfect V that pointed into a neat nest of hair at the base of his sex. In the shadows between his spread thighs, she could just make out the heavy weights of his scrotum and the undercurve of his muscular buttocks.

Uhn .

The man was a feast for all her womanly senses. And she fully intended to indulge the second she was more presentable.

“Don’t move,” she warned, finally leaving the bed, shaking her finger at him, as if there would be dire consequences for disobedience.

Meanwhile, she backed her way toward the bathroom without turning around. Because—come on—who could turn around from that view?

He didn’t answer this time, but a part of him did move.

His cock flexed against his stomach, raising its mighty head, as if to protest her command, nearly lifting the coverlet entirely off.

As it was, the thin sheet slithered a little more off his groin, revealing more of the unimaginable masculine bounty that was Benjamin Larkin D’Angelo.

She finally backed into the bathroom, forcibly closed the door between them and clunked her forehead against it the moment it was shut.

Get a hold of yourself, Lizzy!

Drooling and panting at a man was not sexy. And it frankly wasn’t her. She was calm, cool and collected.

Wasn’t she?

She turned around and looked into the wall mirror. A slightly-crazed-looking nymphomaniac looked back at her.

Flushed cheeks. Just-had-sex hair sticking to her sweaty skin. Her pupils were still blown, almost eclipsing the gray of her irises. She looked high, for Pete’s sake. And she’d never done drugs in her life. Never gotten drunk. Never had a cigarette.

But she kind of felt like having one now. Because that was the best sex she could ever have imagined to partake in, and it didn’t even involve full-on penetration!

And then she realized that she was actually naked. Not a stitch on. She wasn’t even embarrassed about it; she’d been (still was) entirely focused on Ben in that gigantic, inviting bed. She did notice, though, that her boobs felt heavier, looked fuller. Might even pass for a C-cup if she viewed them from a particular angle.

She looked like an earthy, disheveled, just-got-fucked-by-a-real-MAN-in-all-caps woman .

And she was incandescently happy.

Humming a random medley, she went through her ablutions in record time, using the disposable toothbrush and toothpaste the hotel provided to brush her teeth. She jumped in the shower and basked in the heated, high-pressured blast of the water, singing louder, thinking the spray would cover the warbled sounds she was making.

“What a man, what a man, what a might good man…”

That Salt-N-Pepa classic was one of her mom’s favorites. Serena hummed it whenever she was particularly pleased with David (which was quite often).

And now Lizzy could relate whole-heartedly.

Except…

Ben wasn’t her man.

Not yet.

It had only been two days since they met. Surely, a claim in either direction took longer than forty-eight hours to secure. To be sure of.

Then why did she already feel so sure of him?

Must be her hormones and libido talking, overriding her logic and good sense. She’d never suffered from these irrational feelings before; this was new. She had to remember to slow down. Take her time.

She didn’t want this to be a one-and-done. She wanted to get to know him better. Let him get to know her. If what was between them was real, surely he’d want the same?

She got out of the shower, wrapped herself in a fluffy hotel robe, and hurriedly rubbed her hair dry as best she could.

After all, she was looking forward to getting to know him better. Immediately. Right now.

Starting with his beautiful male body.

But when Lizzy finally opened the bathroom door, Ben was standing in the middle of the room already fully dressed in a form-fitting Henley and relaxed-fit jeans that somehow still managed to mold to his long, muscular legs and glorious posterior.

Lizzy’s stomach dropped with disappointment.

And then, she noticed three piles of dust or ashes on the floor. The balcony door was open, a balmy breeze lifting the gauzy curtains like ghostly hands.

Her eyes darted to Ben’s, seeking an explanation.

“Change of plans,” he said, all business, no sexy teasing to be found in his tone.

“They came looking for you.”

“Who?”

“People who might think you still have the egg. Or people who know who you really are.”

Lizzy frowned quizzically at this.

“What do you mean who I really am? I’m just me.”

He gave one firm shake of his head.

“It’s too much to explain right now. We have to leave. More might come.”

He began gathering things into a backpack, going through the room.

Lizzy was still too consternated and confused to move. She simply stood there in the robe staring at him.

“How do you know they were looking for me?” she asked. “This is your room.”

He didn’t stop to regard her as he packed with speed and efficiency.

“Immortals have keen senses,” he said, “even those who don’t have special Gifts in this area. They would have been able to hear you, as I did, singing in the shower.”

“Oh.”

Well, that was kind of embarrassing.

“And if that wasn’t the first clue,” he continued, “all they had to do was follow your scent. It’s ten times stronger with sex and orgasms.”

“Huh.”

Lizzy wondered if her face imitated a lobster’s right now.

“Get a few necessities from your room,” he instructed, ushering her gently toward the door, since she didn’t seem capable of moving on her own.

“No suitcase, just the clothes and shoes you plan to wear. Maybe a couple extra pairs of underwear.”

“Where are we going?” she managed to ask, allowing him to manhandle her. “I’m supposed to spend the rest of the week here for the conference.”

He stopped at the door, holding her by the biceps, facing her. His brilliant aquamarine eyes drilled intensely into her.

“Trust me, Lizzy,” he said, his tone both commanding and entreating.

“Come with me. It will be an adventure. And…we can get to know each other better in the process.”

She searched his eyes, so clear and bright. She felt like she could see right into his soul. His heart. And they were infinitely beautiful. Just like the rest of him.

“Okay,” she whispered.

“I must be crazy, but I do trust you, Ben.”

Intense satisfaction and pure male pride blazed in his eyes.

“Good,” he said, his deep voice half growl, half purr.

She could hear the dragon in his voice. Now she knew how he managed to get that rumbly lower than bass register into it, as if it was the voice of an ancient beast.

Which she now knew it truly was.

She looked down.

“What made those piles on the floor?”

“Dead vampires,” he said, completely serious.

“For real?”

“I would never lie to you, Lizzy.”

“Wow,” she breathed.

And then she remembered that Ben was the one who presumably fought those vampires and turned them to ashes.

“Are you alright?” she asked, scanning him from head to toe, concerned.

“I’m a badass warrior angel, remember?” he said with a teeth-baring grin. “It takes a lot more than three Dark Ones to bring me down.”

There didn’t seem to be a single scratch on his person, so Lizzy believed him.

“Badass warrior angel dragon ,” she added.

“Just so,” he concurred.

“But what are we setting out to do? Are we just going on the run? How many more of these…Immortals might be after me?”

He took them the few steps to her room next door and somehow had her key handy. She didn’t ask questions. Ben was clearly James-Bond level of competence.

“There are eight more dragon eggs scattered around the world,” he explained. “We are going to find them all and give them the right homes.”

“More dragon eggs…” she echoed, full of wonder.

“Come on, walk and talk,” he urged. “Let’s get your things packed.”

Lizzy’s room was completely undisturbed, as Ben predicted. She quickly changed into a casual outfit of blouse, cropped pants and sneakers, made sure her cross-body bag had all the necessities, phone, credit cards and ID.

The moment she was done, Ben grabbed her around the waist and ushered her out the door. While they took the elevator down to the lobby, Ben seemed hyper vigilant. He looked ready for anything.

He clasped her hand in his when they exited the elevator and walked across the lobby with long strides. Lizzy had to jog a little to keep pace. She looked around them to see if anyone suspicious lurked in the corners.

But she couldn’t spy any Immortals. Or, at least, the inhumanly beautiful people she assumed every Immortal looked like. Before she knew it, they were in a luxurious SUV headed to the airport.

Next to her in the back seat, Ben started talking, but not to her. It seemed as if he was on the phone, but he wasn’t using one.

And then she noticed the band around his wrist. It could have been a stylish watch or bracelet, but a subtle blinking light in it made her realize that it was a communication device.

“How’s the egg?” Ben asked without preamble.

“It’s going to hatch soon,” came Wolfe’s voice loud and clear.

Lizzy’s eyes darted to the back of the head of the car’s driver. Thankfully, there was a transparent divider between the front seat and back. Ben didn’t seem worried that the man could hear him. Maybe the divider made it soundproof back here.

“Rui has been nesting on it for the past twelve hours.”

“Where are you?” Ben asked. “You can’t have made it back home yet.”

“On a remote island,” Wolfe replied. “Don’t worry. We’re safe.”

“Why try to hatch it far away from home? Why not wait?”

“Rui says she has a feeling it would be too late,” Wolfe said. “Honestly, I feel it too. As if it’s been hibernating all this time. But it’s been too long. The heartbeat is faint. If we don’t wake it up now, it might…it might sleep forever.”

Lizzy heard what Wolfe didn’t say— it might die.

Her stomach dropped with worry.

As if Ben’s friends were her close friends too. As if the unborn dragon was a baby they all cared for.

She felt a deep connection to all of them she couldn’t explain with logic.

“Be careful,” Ben warned. “We were attacked.”

“Who?” Wolfe demanded. “What did they want?”

“Dark Ones. Three of them. Don’t know who sent them. Most likely scenario is that they thought Lizzy still had the egg. They came for her,” Ben answered tersely.

“For her or the egg?”

“Maybe both,” Ben said, which made Lizzy wonder again what was so special about her that any of these superhumans would care.

“Why did Kirana give it to her?” Ben asked all of them at large, thinking out loud. “How did she know it was Lizzy’s birthday and why would it matter?”

“It looked like she was expecting the egg to react to Dr. Winters somehow,” Wolfe said.

“Maybe it did, but we couldn’t see,” Ben theorized. “Maybe she activated it with her touch.”

Lizzy looked at her hands. Was it her imagination that her fingertips still felt tingly?

“If the powerful Immortals know or suspect, they could be at the conference for your female,” Wolfe said.

Ben took one of her hands in his then, weaving their fingers together. He looked into her eyes, assessing her reaction to his friend’s off-handed comment.

She shrugged a little, indicating she didn’t mind being referred to as his female.

He smiled wide and quickly, showing his approval, before focusing back on his friend. She liked that he kept holding her hand.

“A likely hypothesis. Which is why I’m taking her away. Can’t sit around waiting for them to come to us. We have to take the initiative ourselves. Find those eggs and bring them home.”

“Don’t do it alone, Ben,” Wolfe said. “Call for the others. Perhaps the eggs will react to them the way this one did to Rui and me.”

“That’s the plan. Keep me posted on your side.”

Wolfe grunted a confirmation, and Ben disconnected the call.

“Now,” Lizzy said, finally speaking up and commanding his full attention, “will you tell me where we’re going?”

But instead of answering her directly, Ben met her gaze and began another call.

“Zai,” he greeted.

There was a deep manly grunt on the other side.

Why did these warriors eschew words, Lizzy wondered. And why was it so damn sexy?

“Need you and Sin to meet me on Nii Jima. How soon can you get there?”

“You’ve got good timing, King,” came the smooth, slightly purring voice.

“Stop calling me that,” Ben snapped without rancor, as if he was used to repeating himself on this point.

“Sin had a hankering for real Chinese food,” the man called Zai continued, ignoring Ben’s order about how not to address him, “so we flew to Shanghai a couple days ago. We can be there by this afternoon.”

“Head for the koga sculptures after nightfall,” Ben instructed. “See you there.”

The line dropped without further ado.

Lizzy had no doubt she would meet Zai and Sin soon.

She squeezed Ben’s hand and he squeezed her back.

Was she crazy for going off into the vast unknown with an almost complete stranger who’d given her the best orgasms of her entire life?

Probably.

Was she a bit abnormal for taking Immortals and dragons completely in stride without stopping to pinch herself and wondering if any of this was real?

Definitely.

But…

All of this felt real. More real than anything else she’d experienced to date. She needed to see this through. Whatever might come.

And she wanted to do it all with this man.

Benjamin Larkin D’Angelo.

And maybe, just maybe, she might deserve to call him hers when their adventures were done.