Page 8 of Not an Assistant (Tales of the Dreggageggon #4)

The Pull

A cheron

She hasn’t run, and that alone should calm the beast pacing inside me. But it doesn’t do a damn thing to his shitty disposition. If anything, it makes my dragon more alert. More possessive, aggressive, agitated.

She’s upstairs in my bed. Wrapped in my sheets. Leaving her scent all over my territory and she smells like mine. I offered her a room of her own but gave her the master bedroom. I will sleep on the couch in my office until she accepts what I already know, that we belong together.

I watch her on the internal security feed, a silent voyeur. She doesn’t know the camera in the corner of the suite is there. Or maybe she does and doesn’t care. She moves slowly, hesitantly, like someone navigating a trap she can’t quite see.

She hasn’t touched the food I had brought up.

She hasn’t changed out of the clothes I peeled off her the afternoon before.

And she hasn’t slept. She just sits at the edge of the bed with her knees drawn to her chest, staring out the window like the city below holds all the answers she’s too afraid to ask.

And still, she hasn’t run. Not that it would do her any good, because I’d only go after her.

My dragon settles briefly at that thought. Not in satisfaction, but in certainty. We know what she is to us. The bond has begun, however reluctantly on her end. And now, I need to be patient even if my dragon is clawing inside me to get out and to her.

Clearly, patience has never been a strength for either of us. I have always gotten whatever I want, whenever I want.

I step away from the monitor, pacing the length of my study. The fireplace crackles in the hearth, the scent of pinewood smoke curling through the room, but even that can’t mask the lingering hint of Zahara in the air.

She’s still burning through me.

I pull a crystal tumbler from the bar and pour a few fingers of single malt. I swirl it, but I don’t drink. I think of the way she flinched when I said mate. The way her voice cracked when she said she didn’t choose this or me.

Something in her past is broken. Someone hurt her or left her unprotected in a world that eats omegas alive. And I hate that I don’t know who it was or what happened to my mate.

I built an empire on information. Nothing moves in this city without my knowledge. I can destroy a man’s entire legacy with a single call.

But Zahara is a ghost. Her records are wiped of any information that may lead me to the answers I need. Her history has been altered and every time I dig, all I hit are walls. Which means someone powerful didn’t want her found or someone wanted her hidden.

I don’t like mysteries. They make my brain itch and I need to solve them. Fast.

And Zahara is the most dangerous mystery I’ve ever encountered.

****

H ours pass before I go upstairs. Not because I’m avoiding her, but because I need her to feel the illusion of space. Of choice. Even if we both know she has none. When I reach the suite, I pause just outside the door. Her scent is stronger now. Softer and less defiant.

I knock once. “Zahara.” There’s a rustle of movement, followed by silence. “I brought you some food. I know you haven’t eaten.”

Still nothing. My dragon grumbles in the back of my mind and I know he is frustrated by her lack of communication. I slowly push open the door.

She’s in the same spot, her eyes rimmed with red, and her jaw is clenched like she’s holding back a scream.

“You’re watching me,” she accuses quietly.

“Yes.” I answer honestly. I will never lie to her even if it is for my own benefit.

“You don’t even try to deny it.” Her brow rises as she frowns at me in confusion.

“I will never lie to you,” I say echoing my thoughts. “Anything true and lasting can’t be built on dishonesty.”

Her eyes flash with something—surprise, anger, or maybe even fear, I can’t tell.

“Why? Why am I here? Why do you insist that I am your mate when we both know there is no such thing?”

“Because I need to protect you, I need to protect what is mine.” He takes a deep breath. “As for the part about mates, haven’t you heard? All over the realm, fated mates and female dragons are finding their awakening.”

Her lips press into a line. “You’re crazy.”

“It’s the truth and you know it,” I reply with a smirk. “You are my fated mate.”

She rises slowly, crossing her arms over her chest. Her voice is steel. “I don’t want to be your prisoner.”

“You’re not. You can leave whenever you like.”

“Can I? Because it sure as shit feels like you want to keep me locked up in here.”

“That’s true but only because I don’t know how else to keep you safe. But you aren’t a prisoner, though you should probably know I’ll follow wherever you go. And I won’t be gentle about bringing you back. This is where you belong.”

Her breath catches. I step forward, placing the tray of food on the table.

“I know you’re scared, and I know this bond is overwhelming. But I won’t hurt you, Zahara.”

“Why me?” she whispers. “Why not someone else?”

“Because the universe chose you. Because my dragon would rather die than lose your scent. Because I would burn this entire world to the ground just to hear you say my name again while you fall apart under me.”

She shivers. And I know she feels it too. She lowers her gaze, the smallest gesture of submission I’ve seen from her yet. But it’s real. Honest. And it’s enough for now.

I sit beside her, close enough to touch, but I don’t. She flinches slightly when I reach out and adjust the tray. The scent of her unease still lingers, but beneath it is something far more dangerous—surrender.

“Eat,” I say softly. “Rest. I’ll be nearby if you need me.”

I rise from my spot and turn to leave.

“Wait.” The word is a soft broken whisper. I stop dead in my tracks. Her voice trembles when she speaks again. “Will it always feel like this?”

I turn slowly. “Like what?”

“Like I’m drowning in you. Like I can’t breathe without touching you.”

I cross to her in two strides, gently cupping her jaw. Her skin is warm and impossibly soft beneath my fingers.

“Yes.” Her eyes flutter closed. “But eventually,” I add, brushing a kiss over her forehead, “you’ll stop trying to fight the current. And when you do, it’ll feel like flying.”

She doesn’t speak but she leans into the contact just enough that I feel it. That whisper of want. Of trust. I leave before I break my promise and take her again.

Downstairs, I pour out the drink I didn’t touch earlier. I need to keep a clear head around Zaraha until our bond is complete before I do something stupid. I stare into the flames and plan.

I plan to make her happy. I plan for whatever it takes to keep her. Because she’s not just some random omega who walked into my building and my life. She’s my omega. My fated mate. My entire fucking world.

And no one will ever take her from me.