Page 27

Chapter 27

T alon

I lean against the doorframe, watching as Hargen makes his way slowly into Lila’s room. His movements are stiff, one hand hovering near his abdomen where the bullet tore through him just days ago. Pride keeps his spine straight despite the pain I know he must still feel. Two days of recovery shouldn’t have him walking at all, but stubbornness is a powerful force.

Lila’s face brightens when she sees him, relief softening the sharp edges exhaustion has carved into her features.

“You shouldn’t be up. I would have come to you,” she scolds, but the worry in her voice betrays her.

“I’ve spent enough time horizontal,” Hargen replies, easing himself onto the edge of her bed. “Thought I’d see how my miracle worker is doing.”

Her fingers curl around his, a smile warming her face. “Miracle worker? Hardly. Just an old blood ritual my mother taught me.”

“One that saved my life at nearly the cost of yours.” His voice drops lower, tension underlining each word. “You shouldn’t have risked it, Lila. After everything you endured to get free…”

“Don’t start.” Her smile fades. “I made my choice. I’d make it again.”

Something twists in my gut as I watch them. The intimacy they share scrapes against something inside me. Years of connection, of secret moments hidden from Syndicate surveillance. And something more. Whatever passed between them during that ritual with the Shard.

My dragon stirs restlessly beneath my skin. I have no right to this jealousy burning in my blood. No claim on her. I don’t know her, despite the weeks spent watching her, planning her extraction, risking everything to get her out.

And yet the memory of those sweet moments of her… I had one tiny taste of her, and since then, it’s been all I can think of.

I straighten as Zoe appears beside me, her expression tight.

“Viktor’s waiting,” she murmurs. “He wants to see her. Now.”

“She needs rest,” I reply, keeping my voice low.

“Not my call. Not yours either.” She glances past me to where Lila and Hargen sit in quiet conversation. “Interesting dynamic, isn’t it? The witch and her handler.”

“He protected her,” I say, surprised by my own defensiveness. “As much as he could.”

“And you protected them both.” Zoe’s eyes narrow slightly. “At considerable risk to yourself.”

Before I can respond, footsteps approach from the corridor. Viktor appears, his presence dominating the room. He stands in the shadowy hallway for a moment, centuries of survival making him assess every situation before committing. The light catches half his face, illuminating dark, weathered skin that appears ageless despite the centuries he’s lived.

“Talon.” He inclines his head slightly. “How’s she doing?”

“Recovering. Still weak, but getting stronger.” I give him the update, though my dragon bristles at having him in the room where she’s slept. “The Shard is secure in the vault, as requested.”

“And her handler?” Viktor’s gaze shifts to Hargen.

“Healing well. The ritual she performed accelerated his recovery significantly.”

Viktor absorbs this, his expression revealing nothing. “I need to speak with her. Alone.”

I step aside, though every instinct screams against it. Viktor glides past me into the room, his presence drawing immediate attention. Hargen looks up, tension stiffening his spine.

“Ms. Ross.” Viktor’s voice carries quiet authority. “I’m pleased to see you awake.”

Lila’s eyes flick to me, then back to Viktor. Her fingers tighten around Hargen’s before she releases him. “I assume you’re Viktor.”

“I am.” He moves closer, studying her with the intensity that has made even ancient dragons uneasy. “Founder of the Aurora Collective. The organization that facilitated your extraction.”

“And now wants something in return,” she finishes, her chin lifting slightly.

I hide a smile. Even weakened, Lila maintains her edge.

Viktor’s lips quirk. “Direct. I appreciate that.” He glances at Hargen. “Perhaps we could speak privately?”

Hargen hesitates, looking to Lila. She nods almost imperceptibly, and he rises, moving stiffly toward the door. As he passes me, our eyes meet. Something unspoken passes between us; not quite alliance, not quite rivalry. An acknowledgment, maybe. Of shared purpose. Of her importance to us both.

“I’ll check on you later,” he tells Lila before leaving.

Reluctantly, I start to follow him out, but Lila’s voice stops me.

“Talon. Stay.”

I turn, surprised. I would have thought Hargen would have been the one she wanted to stay. Zoe raises an eyebrow before departing, closing the door behind her.

Viktor takes the chair Hargen vacated, his focus entirely on Lila. “I understand you performed a blood ritual with the Shard to save your handler.”

“Yes.” Her voice remains steady despite her exhaustion.

“A risk, given your condition.”

“A choice,” she corrects.

“Indeed.” Viktor steeples his fingers. “You have an unusual connection to the Shard. Our researchers have been examining it since your arrival. They’ve had no luck activating it.”

“It responds to Rossewyn blood,” Lila explains. “Always has. My bloodline has been connected to the Heartstone for centuries.”

“Yet we’ve worked with witches before. None have demonstrated your level of control.” Viktor leans forward.

“Of course they haven’t. They’re not Rossewyn.” Lila’s chin lifts higher.

Viktor nods. I’m sure this is not news to him. The Rossewyn legend is no secret. But I imagine he was hoping there’d be another way that didn’t tie him to the woman in front of him.

“The Aurora Collective needs your abilities, Lila,” he says. “Your connection to the Shard could be instrumental in our cause.”

Lila’s eyes narrow. “And what cause is that, exactly?”

“Balance. A world where dragons can exist without hiding, without the constant threat of exposure or extinction.” Viktor’s voice intensifies. “The old orders are crumbling. Dragons revealed. A phoenix rising. Your daughter at the center of it all, bonded to a Craven. We need your strength, your abilities, to ensure the right side prevails.”

“The right side being yours,” Lila observes dryly.

“The side that doesn’t involve Syndicate control,” Viktor counters. “The side that won’t use your daughter as they used you.”

Color rises in Lila’s cheeks. “You don’t need to tell me what the Syndicate is capable of. I lived it.”

“Then you understand why joining us is crucial.” Viktor’s tone hardens, becoming less request, more command. “With your help, we can counter the Syndicate’s plans, protect your daughter, secure a better future for all magical beings.”

I step forward before I can stop myself, dragon instincts flaring at the pressure in his voice. “She’s barely recovered, Viktor. This isn’t the time.”

Viktor’s head snaps toward me, surprise flickering across his features.

“Stand down, Talon,” he says, voice sharp. “This discussion is necessary.”

“Not like this.” My voice drops lower, rougher, dragon bleeding into my tone. I feel the change in my eyes, the glow that betrays my nature. “She deserves time. Space to think.”

“Talon.” Viktor’s warning is clear, displeasure radiating from him at my display.

“He’s right,” Lila interjects, her gaze steady on Viktor. “I appreciate your honesty about what you want from me. But I won’t be pushed into another cage, no matter how pretty the bars.”

Viktor studies her, reassessing. “Not a cage. An alliance.”

“On my terms,” she says firmly. “I’ll make my own decisions about how and when to use what I know, what I can do.”

The air in the room changes, pressure building like the moment before a storm breaks. On the bedside table, a glass of water vibrates slightly, liquid trembling. A swirl of crimson ripples through it. Viktor’s eye narrows as he looks from Lila to the glass and back.

“Interesting,” he murmurs. “Your connection to the Shard appears to extend beyond physical contact.”

Lila looks startled for a moment before nodding. I suspect she didn’t know she was capable of this either, but she hides it well.

“Of course it does,” she says smoothly. “We’re bound by history. By blood.”

“Remarkable,” Viktor breathes, rising from his chair. “You have to use this power for our cause. You have no choice! Don’t you see, you—”

“I will always have choice. Always!” Her voice rises sharply, an edge to it that makes something tighten in my chest.

I cross to her side without thinking, my hand finding hers.

“Of course you will,” I say fiercely, shooting a dark glare at Viktor. “Nobody will ever take that away from you again.”

Her fingers curl around mine, drawing strength I gladly give. Her touch sends heat skittering beneath my skin, dragon instincts responding in ways I can’t fully control.

Viktor watches this exchange with sharp interest. “It seems we have much to discuss,” he says. “But perhaps you’re right, Talon. Rest first. We’ll continue this conversation when you’re stronger, Lila.”

She inclines her head slightly, acknowledgment but not agreement. “Tomorrow, then.”

Viktor’s mouth tightens, but he nods. “Tomorrow.” He moves toward the door, pausing to glance back at us. “The world is changing, Lila. Faster than any of us anticipated. I hope you’ll consider what role you want to play in that change.”

After he leaves, silence fills the room. Lila’s hand remains in mine, her pulse quick against my fingers. I should release her, give her space, but my body refuses to obey. The dragon in me wants her closer, not farther away.

“He’s intense,” she says finally.

“Five centuries will do that to a person.” I try for lightness, but my voice comes out rough.

Her eyes find mine, searching. “You stood up for me. Against your leader.”

“Viktor’s not my leader,” I correct. “He founded Aurora, yes. But we follow principles, not people.”

“And what principles are those?”

“Balance. Coexistence. A world where dragons find their place without domination or subjugation.” The words sound hollow, rehearsed. They are, in a way. The same words I’ve repeated for years.

“Pretty words,” she observes. “But what do they mean for my daughter? For me?”

“Protection,” I say without hesitation. “From the Syndicate. From anyone who would use you.”

Her mouth curves slightly. “And what does Aurora want to use me for?”

The question catches me off guard, truth forcing its way past careful evasions.

“Nothing,” I admit. “Viktor has his agenda: the Shard, the Heartstone, the shift in power dynamics. But me? I just wanted you out. Safe.”

Color rises in her cheeks. “Why?”

The dragon stirs beneath my skin, responding to her nearness, her scent, the pulse of power that surrounds her even in weakness. I should lie. Should maintain professional distance. Should remember my role as Aurora operative, not… whatever this is becoming.

“I don’t know,” I say instead, honesty rough in my chest. “But I couldn’t leave you there. Couldn’t let them hurt you anymore.”

Her fingers tighten around mine, eyes never leaving my face. The air between us charges with tension that has nothing to do with the Shard’s distant presence.

“Talon,” she whispers, and my name in her mouth sounds like permission. Like invitation.

I lean forward, drawn by forces I can’t fight anymore. Her free hand rises to my face, fingertips tracing the line of my jaw. The touch sparks a tingle down my spine, dragon instincts surging. My eyes close briefly, savoring the contact, the connection.

When I open them again, Lila has shifted forward, closing the distance between us. Her lips meet mine, tentative at first, then with growing confidence as I respond. The kiss deepens, her isolation burning away in the heat between us. Her mouth is soft, eager, tasting faintly of the mint tea Zoe brought earlier.

I pull back slightly, fighting for control as the dragon pushes dangerously close to the surface.

“We should slow down,” I murmur against her lips. “You’re still recovering.”

“I don’t want to slow down,” she breathes, reaching for the buttons of my shirt. “I’ve been locked away, Talon. Treated like a thing, not a person. I want to feel alive. I want to feel everything.”

Her fingers work at my buttons, impatient, tugging the fabric apart with surprising strength for someone so recently weakened. I let her, watching her face as she reveals my chest inch by inch. Her breath catches as she pushes the shirt from my shoulders, eyes darkening to liquid mercury at the sight of me.

“You’re beautiful,” she whispers, hands exploring the contours of muscle, the planes of my chest, the curve where neck meets shoulder. Her touch trails fire across my skin, awakening nerve endings I’d forgotten existed.

She leans forward, lips pressing against my collarbone, tongue tasting salt and skin. I groan, control slipping further as her teeth graze sensitive flesh. Her hands find my belt, fumbling with the buckle, eager enough that her fingers tremble.

“Let me,” I say, covering her hands with mine. “No rush.”

“Yes, rush,” she counters, eyes meeting mine with unmasked hunger. “I’ve waited long enough.”

Her words tear at something inside me, releasing hunger I’ve kept carefully leashed. My hands slide into her hair, cradling her head as I kiss her again. Deeper now, raw with need too long denied. She makes a small sound in her throat—pleasure, surprise, want—that inflames me further.

I reach for the loose shirt she’s been wearing since she got here, unbuttoning it with more patience than she showed mine. Each inch of revealed skin captivates me—pale against the white sheets, bearing subtle scars from years of torture. Her collarbone, delicate and sharp. The gentle slope of her breasts. The tiny beauty mark at the base of her throat.

“Lovely,” I breathe, pushing the fabric from her shoulders. Her breasts are small, perfect, nipples hardening in the cool air and under my hungry gaze. I cover one with my palm, reveling in her sharp intake of breath, the way her back arches into the touch.

My mouth replaces my hand, tongue circling, tasting, drawing a moan from deep in her throat. Salt and sweetness, the subtle flavor of her skin intoxicating to dragon senses heightened by desire. I trace the curve beneath her breast with my tongue, learning the geography of her body, mapping places that make her breath catch, that draw those small, perfect sounds from her throat.

“More,” she demands, fingers tangling in my hair, her other hand moving to the waistband of my jeans. “I need to see all of you.”

I stand, letting her unfasten my jeans, helping her push them down my legs along with my boxers. Her eyes widen slightly at the sight of my cock, hard and ready for her. She reaches for it without hesitation, fingers wrapping around its length, drawing a rough sound from my throat.

“My turn,” I say, breathless at her touch. I help her out of the loose drawstring pants she wears, revealing long legs, the curve of her hips, the dark curls between her thighs. My dragon roars approval at the sight of her fully revealed, nothing left to imagination or shadow.

I kneel beside the bed, hands sliding up her calves, her thighs, feeling muscle and bone beneath soft skin. Her legs part for me, invitation and demand in the movement. I trace the inside of her thigh with my tongue, tasting her, breathing in her scent, my dragon senses overwhelmed with her desire, her readiness.

My fingers find her wet, ready, the seam of her pussy parting easily. She gasps as I explore, learning what makes her hips buck, what draws more of those sounds I’m quickly becoming addicted to. I circle her clit with my thumb, her body responding with a shiver that runs through her entire frame.

“It’s been so long,” she whispers, voice breaking as pleasure builds. “Oh, God! Oh… God! Talon, I don’t… I can’t…” She grasps my shoulder, grip almost painful.

“Come for me, Lila,” I urge, mouth replacing fingers, tongue tasting her deeply. “Let yourself feel.”

She comes with a sharp cry, body arching, fingers digging into my shoulders hard enough to bruise. The sight of her undone, pleasure transforming her features, nearly pushes me over the edge. The dragon surges, scales rippling beneath my skin, eyes burning amber.

Before I can pull back, regain control, Lila’s tugging me upward, onto the bed, her body still trembling with aftershocks.

“Inside me,” she gasps. “Now, Talon. Please.”

I position myself between her thighs, the head of my cock pressing against her entrance, restraint hanging by a thread. She wraps her legs around my waist, heels digging into my lower back, urging me forward, taking the decision from my hands.

I push into her slowly, feeling her stretch around me, her heat enveloping me inch by aching inch. Her fingers dig into my back, urging me deeper, faster. I comply, unable to deny her anything in this moment.

Our bodies find rhythm, ancient as the dragon blood in my veins. Each thrust draws sounds from her that feed something primitive in me, something possessive and fierce. My mouth finds her neck, teeth grazing sensitive skin.

“Mine,” I growl without meaning to, dragon instincts bleeding into human voice.

“Yes,” she gasps, either not noticing or not caring about the possessiveness in my tone. “Yes, Talon.”

The word pushes me closer to the edge, hips driving harder, deeper. Her legs tighten around me, ankles crossed at the small of my back, taking me impossibly deep. I slide a hand between us, fingers finding her clit, wanting—needing—to feel her come around me.

She shatters with a cry that might be my name, her body clenching rhythmically around my cock, pulling me in. Making me part of her. The sensation triggers my own release, pleasure crashing through me in waves as I empty myself inside her, my body going rigid with the force of it.

In that moment of blinding pleasure, my control slips completely. My teeth find the junction of her neck and shoulder, biting down—not hard enough to break skin, but enough to leave a mark. To claim.

The dragon in me roars satisfaction, even as alarm bells sound in the human part of my brain. Marking? Already?

What the fuck am I doing?

I pull back, apology forming on my lips, but the look on Lila’s face stops me. Not pain or fear, but wonder. Her fingers rise to the mark, touching it gently.

“What was that?” she asks, voice husky from pleasure and surprise.

Before I can answer, the door bursts open. Zoe stands there, her usual composure fractured by urgency. Her eyes take in our state—tangled together, sweat cooling on our skin—with a flash of surprise that quickly returns to professionalism.

“Syndicate forces spotted near the north ridge,” she reports without preamble. “Three scout teams, heavily armed.”

Ice replaces the warmth in my veins. I ease away from Lila, who quickly pulls the blanket over herself, the afterglow of pleasure draining from her face.

“How close?” I ask, reaching for my discarded clothes.

“Too close.” Zoe’s voice is tight. “We need to move. Now.”

“Understood,” I say, tossing Lila’s clothes to her. “Give us two minutes.”

Zoe nods once, already turning away, hand moving to the comms unit at her ear.

I pull on my jeans, watching as Lila dresses with the speed of someone who’s learned to seize moments when they come. Her face has paled, pleasure replaced by the familiar wariness of a captive who knows the cage is never far behind.

“They’ve found us,” she says. Not a question.

I give a terse nod. “How did they do it so damned fast?” I mutter.

“Is it me?” she says, her voice softening with uncertainty. “Do you think they’re tracking me?”

The implications unsettle me. Freedom never lasts long. Not in this world. Not with what’s coming.

“Doesn’t matter how they did it,” I say firmly, helping her to her feet. “They won’t take you again.”

Her eyes meet mine, haunted by the bone-deep certainty that the Syndicate never gives up what it considers its property.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” she says softly.

I pull her against me, inhaling her scent, remembering the tremors of pleasure in her limbs. The fading mark on her neck stares back at me, accusing and promising all at once.

What the hell is going on with me?

“That’s the only kind worth making,” I tell her, and lead her toward whatever comes next.