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Chapter 9

Declan

A fter a time, it wasn’t Augustine’s fault that Declan wasn’t speaking. At first, it had been a form of resistance. The less he engaged, the more likely Augustine would give up on this mad idea that Declan was any sort of partner.

Now, Declan simply didn’t have the energy to talk, much less plot his escape. The closest thing he’d come to plotting was watching How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days , which had been... decidedly unhelpful.

Listless, he was reclining on one of the chaise lounges in the large main room when Augustine returned. He was staring at the ceiling, what with its ornate plaster molding and the glittering chandelier overhead. Why was everything here so damn pretty? Pretty trinkets, pretty furniture, pretty dragon.

Such a pretty dragon, actually. Handsome and large, with a square jaw and silver hair and piercing eyes. Lips that tempted. Hands so gentle.

“Declan?”

His lashes fluttered. His eyes refocused. Finally, Declan realized they weren’t alone. The man beside Augustine was handsome in a clean cut, wholesome kind of way. He had blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and the kind of physique born of religious gym attendance.

With a frown, he summoned what was left of his strength to sit up. “Who’s this?”

The stranger’s smile brightened, but Augustine was as surly and serious as ever. “I have brought you sustenance.”

“I’m Louis,” the guy announced with a sparkling white smile.

Declan only glanced his way for a moment. Then, his eyes went right back to Augustine, standing there so stiffly. Under Declan’s appraisal, he crossed his arms.

“You said you hired sex workers to meet your needs. Here is Louis.” He jerked his chin at the man, and he looked furious and uncomfortable, but resigned, as if this were his only choice. “I would not have you starve.”

“You could let me go,” Declan suggested.

A tiny flash of surprise crossed Louis’s face, but he mastered it quickly.

“Make use of Louis,” Augustine said. “Then we will talk.”

Augustine stood there, stiff as a statue, while Louis sauntered his way over to Declan’s lounge. He sat on the end of it and reached out to touch Declan’s knee.

“It’s nice to meet you . . . ?”

“Declan.”

“Declan,” Louis repeated with a smile. His hand inched higher on Declan’s leg, creeping toward the inside of his thigh. “What are you in the mood for, Declan?”

Declan glanced up at Augustine, who was still standing there, his face hard and controlled. The moment Declan caught his eye, Augustine stiffened and turned away.

He was going to leave, to let Declan have this. And?—

And Declan didn’t want it. He didn’t want to bear the weight of Augustine’s hurt and disappointment in him. He was an incubus. That was disappointing enough without adding the insult of watching his own “mate” fuck another man in his own home.

Declan inhaled sharply and sat back, dislodging Louis’s hand with a wiggle. It was hard. He was so fucking hungry, but... this was not all Augustine’s fault. He was misguided. And, well, there weren’t many dragons left in the world. Declan didn’t want to be responsible for hurting one of the last.

“Nothing. I’m not in the mood for anything,” he said. Then, he raised his voice. “Take him away, Augustine.”

Hell, maybe on the way, the dragon would see sense. He’d realize he had a better shot with Louis as his mate than an incubus. The human was eager enough to please, and Augustine had so much to offer.

The dragon froze on his way out.

“I’m serious. I don’t want him,” Declan insisted.

Louis had started to frown, his cheeks pinched in.

And Declan was too hungry, too needy, for niceties anymore. “Get out,” he hissed.

The human scrambled back at the sight of Declan’s flashing red eyes. Augustine was there to gather him up and show him out. And the second they were gone, Declan melted into the chair and shut his eyes against the sting of disappointment.

Soon, Augustine returned. Declan heard him before he saw him, his footsteps echoing heavily in the cavern.

“There is nothing I can do to please you.” Augustine’s words were laced with bitterness. Declan swallowed it down, let it settle like rocks.

He squirmed back, using the chair to prop himself up when his body was too tired to manage it. His heart heavy, he searched Augustine’s face, taking in his heavy scowl and the lines of his disappointment. That was an expression Declan was all too familiar with. Wryly, he smiled.

“For half a century, I have tried to be a good demon. I’ve tried to feed in a way that caused little harm.”

Augustine scoffed. “Would you have harmed that young man then? Is that why you sent him away?”

One of Declan’s shoulders rose in a half shrug, and he dipped his head. “I would have hurt you ,” he whispered.

With a huff, Augustine dropped onto the far end of the lounge. “Why would you care about that?”

Declan’s lashes fluttered. That—that was a fair question.

He shouldn’t have cared. Augustine had taken him against his will.

But he’d also been kind and generous, patient even when Declan tried his temper. He simply didn’t understand Declan; that didn’t mean he was cruel.

“I just do.”

For a moment, the dragon sat there, his body slumped over his legs, his elbows braced on his knees. He stared at his hands, wringing his fingers together while a muscle in his jaw worked, turning the edge of it white.

If Declan could have just a taste, that might be enough to quench his longing. But there was no forever for him. No mate. Not like this dragon thought there should be.

“I have tried,” Augustine growled, staring down at his knees. “I have. But there is nothing. And not for one single moment would you consider that anyone might know something other than what you believe. That I might know my mate better than you do.”

Declan’s teeth clenched, but he was in no mood to argue. No mood, until Augustine reached for his belt buckle, and Declan jolted upright.

“What are you doing?”

“You need to eat,” Augustine said. “And I won’t touch you. If you truly want me to stop?—”

He may have finished that phrase, but if he did, Declan didn’t hear it. All his attention was focused on the soft click , click , click of Augustine unzipping his pants.

Declan’s tongue flashed out to lick his lips. His hungry gaze dropped to Augustine’s strong, square hands, his clever fingers that spread his fly and pushed the elastic band of his boxers down to ease his cock free.

Even flaccid, it was long and thick and oh so tempting. Declan’s throat clicked as he swallowed, but Augustine did not look his way. He stared ahead and licked a stripe up the center of his palm.

The way he stroked himself was almost perfunctory. Rapt, Declan watched as his dick hardened and swelled in his grip. The tip flushed, as red and tempting as a strawberry lollipop. When Declan’s teeth pushed into his bottom lip, his sharp little fangs stung his flesh. He barely noticed.

He just wanted .

Squirming in his seat, he edged forward, reaching for Augustine. He could feel his pleasure thrumming in the air, like a rope tied between Augustine’s warming body and Declan’s heart, sinking right into him with mouthwatering pleasure.

He reached for Augustine, but the dragon only hissed. He moved toward the end of the lounge, and Declan froze.

“It goes both ways,” Augustine ground out, his voice strained. His hand barely paused, flexing around his glistening tip. “If I may not touch you, you may not touch me.”

A whine trembled in Declan’s throat, but it stayed trapped behind lips pressed tight together. He stared, full of nothing but want. This—it would be fine. He could have this one thing.

Only Augustine said he could not, and Declan—Declan was in no state to talk sensibly about just how much he wanted to taste Augustine’s cock, tilt back his head and let the dragon shove inside until the whole world shrank to the two of them. Right then, he could imagine giving himself over. Would it really be so bad, to be a dragon’s mate?

It took effort to hold himself back against the chaise’s far side. His fingers dug into the upholstery, his claws rending the fabric beneath him as his body throbbed. He wanted to touch, to be touched.

Instead, he forced himself to watch as Augustine’s breaths quickened. There were red spots high on his cheeks. His hand moved faster.

With a grunt, he came, spending over his hand and the bunched fabric of his boxers. Declan whimpered and sucked in a breath, tasting the sex in the air, the smell of brimstone heat that rolled off the dragon.

Unable to help himself, Declan rolled forward on his knees. His lips crashed into Augustine’s, and he drank down the dragon’s energy in desperate gulps.

More. He needed more. He needed?—

Augustine jerked away. He shoved his spent dick back beneath his boxers and stood, already pulling a handkerchief out to wipe his hands clean.

Declan sat back on his heels and stared. His lips were swollen from that desperate kiss. It’d only lasted a few seconds. It hadn’t been enough.

“August?” he whispered to the dragon’s back.

Augustine had dropped his head. He didn’t even flinch at the sound of Declan’s voice. And then, he was walking away, leaving Declan there, sated and starving at once. Lost and confused, because he might want that dragon, despite everything.

Only, he knew he wasn’t right for him. Not the right sort of creature. Certainly not the right sort of mate.

So Declan let him walk away, and he didn’t call for him again.