Captive Dragon (6 page)

Don’t worry, I’ll catch you.

She tightened her grip on him and yelped surprise. He shuddered beneath her. Could she share a mind link like his people? If so, they had to be mates.

Muzzle straightened in interest, he tried again.

Can you hear me, Chloe?

“Yes,” she breathed, amazement in her voice. “You’re beautiful.”

Uncontrollable happiness blazed through him, and he fought the urges to preen for her. His body wanted to dance, bow, and shift colors. With a flick of his head, he surged forward, honing in on the direction of his house until to his chagrin, his belly began to swell, a primitive, undeniable response of a stallion who’d found his mate.

He ignored it. Waves parted around them as he guided Chloe above the wake and kept a tight hold on her, careful not to bruise her skin with his armored plated hide while he gripped her from shin to thigh. But in all the time he’d lost himself in her, falling ever harder for her intelligence, beauty, and humor, he’d momentarily forgotten the marine biologist.

“Is that a brood pouch?” she asked, her hand resting on the side of his protruding belly.

He shackled the urge to draw up short in anger and reminded himself she didn’t know.

I don’t like that term. It reminds me of how we’re treated, as nothing more than property to bear and care for the young. As a male, we’re coddled, gifted to females as trophies, and given no consequence. I escaped that, the same as women of years gone by escaped the arranged marriage. Here, I’m free. I’m not a brood-stallion.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Reef. I didn’t mean to offend you.” Her voice was distressed, difficult to hear over the tumult of the roiling water.

The thought of her being upset alarmed him. His muzzle twitched in agitation, but he plowed forward. Ahead, the gleaming glass structure of his sanctuary stood high on the hill above a cove.

He couldn’t take her there and leave her to hunt the she-dragon. Not while she was upset with him. Calming, he made himself try to see it in from her perspective, a curious and intelligent woman.

Most males just call it their cradle.

“Really? That’s kind of sweet.” She hugged his neck.

I’m different from men you know. If I’d stayed, I would have been given to a woman as a husband. I wouldn’t have had a choice but to bend to her wishes. My life would have been nothing but bearing her children. Does it bother you, that as a seadragon, I would’ve been the one to carry the young?

“No. Not at all. It’s natural.” Her answer was strong, without doubt.

As a human, I believe I’m the same that way as any other man.

Before she could reply, he surged ahead toward his beach only a few paces ahead.

Unaccountably disconcerted, their discussion of his seadragon body reminded him of why he’d escaped his arranged mating. Would he miss giving birth to little ones if he stayed with Chloe? He shifted form, catching her about the waist and releasing her once she found her footing, but the questions remained.

Could he be mate with a human, knowing he’d never carry their young? Had this happened before? Males had come ashore throughout time, and he was certain they’d had relationships with women. Had they impregnated their females? His cock swelled, and he watched her delicious bottom when she crawled ashore. Maybe he had his answer.

“Where are we?” she asked, oblivious to his carnal attention.

“At my home, on my private beach.” He caught her to him, his length pressed into the small of her back.

“Oh.” She leaned against him.

Another shadow crossed the sun and trailed along the ground.

Too late, he realized his error. That was not a cloud.

His armored plating rose. They were in danger. He shoved Chloe behind him and spun toward the she-dragon looming at his back.

“Deena.”

Teeth bared, the she-dragon snarled at him and lunged toward Chloe. Deena had at least a foot in height and fifty pounds over Chloe. They went down in a cloud of sand.

Reef bellowed with fury like he’d never known before.

A thick, meaty hand snaked around Chloe’s neck, cutting off her air. Panic enveloped her—more than when this beast had nearly drowned her only hours earlier.

She clutched and grabbed at the clammy fingers squeezing until her eyes nearly bulged. Unable to get a grip, she slapped at the woman’s trunk of an arm.

Terror blinded her. Then she was hoisted up and thrown.

Relief and sweet air filled her lungs for a brief respite before she landed. The needed air whooshed out of her, and she struggled again.

Uncertain how long she was prone with the ringing in her ears obliterating everything but the need for survival, she gradually became aware of scuffling and grunting. Sickening sounds of flesh being pounded. Terror of a new kind invaded her mind.

“Reef!” She scrambled from the ground.

Beautiful Reef was no more. Snarling, angry beast with strange plating covering his arms, torso, and the edges of his face fought with a grappling dragon larger than him, also covered in plating. They swiped at each other, digging sharp gouges with the ridges of plating on their arms. She couldn’t get near to help without getting sliced to ribbons. She stooped to the ground, grabbed a rock, and waited for her chance.

Her lover struggled. Muscles bulging, he snarled curses at his opponent. Raised ridges on the underside of his arms and backs of his legs protruded with spikes and a long sharp coronet protruded scant inches above his jet black hair.

Reef used these as weapons, cutting and slashing until blood coated them both.

“She’s mine” he snarled.

The woman responded in a language Chloe couldn’t understand. The she-dragon dove, swiping Reef’s legs from beneath him and throwing him to the ground.

He grunted and his face contorted with contempt as he stared at the she-dragon standing over him. “I’ve mated her. You’re too late.”

In a sudden stillness, the other dragon stepped away and stared at Chloe.

She had green eyes. Her features were hidden beneath the tough scales and plates. There had to be a woman beneath all that armor. With a deep roar, like a cross between a lion and an eagle, the she-dragon swatted through the air. A sting slapped across Chloe’s face and she fell to her knees.

Reef growled, dove at the she-dragon, and pummeled her with his fists. Through her watery vision, she watched in amazement as he battled the woman back into the water with furious strikes, over and over. The she-dragon fell to her knees in the surf and hung her head.

Then, she slid into the water in a blur of shifting and was gone.

Chloe lifted the forgotten rock and flung it in the water amid the churning wake. After long moments, she realized Reef held her, running his hands soothingly over her back as she bent over, head in hands, mumbling to herself.

She stiffened.

What was he? She’d been momentarily dazzled by his amazing beauty, a perfectly formed and chiseled man.

But he was no man. Terror made her cold. She yanked away from him and ran up the beach, yelling past her scratchy throat. “Help! Help me! Can anybody hear me?”

“Chloe?” Despair laced the word. He was not that great an actor. She’d hurt him with the rebuff and her fear. She stopped, sliding in the warm sand.

Her stomach bottomed.

She took large gulps of air to calm herself. She needed to think rationally. As soon as the terror fled, she realized what she’d done. There was no reason to run from Reef.

Wanting to comfort and reassure him, she lost all composure. She couldn’t fear the man who’d saved her life twice in one day. She’d willingly made love to him with amazing results on a deserted isle. Finally admitting it to herself, she’d fallen for him the first time she’d seen him a few weeks after she’d met him, when he’d taken a moment from his protests and helped a little girl clean her scraped knee. Her confusion and dread lifted.

The entire day had taken its toll, and she trembled from the effort to remain upright. But the turbulence had fled. She ran into his arms, heedless of the remains of battle and his own injuries. She held him tight and vowed to find a way to keep him.

He was hers.

***

“Let’s get inside and cleaned up,” Reef murmured into Chloe’s hair.

Thankful he could afford the private beach so that none could see the carnage, or his unclothed mate, he lifted Chloe into his arms and climbed the path to his house, a modern style of glass and steel. He’d chosen it for the privacy and the views of the Bay, but the seclusion and safety was perfect now.

The other seadragons would be in the lagoon area—away from his own quarters.

Never tiring of her delectable weight, he didn’t put her down until he’d made his way into the open air shower in his bedroom, a large expanse that covered the entire top floor of the house. Once the water was adjusted to a steamy temperature, he escorted her under the spray.

Eyes closed she stood under the messaging flow while he made short work of cleaning himself. Fast, yet thorough. The injuries from the she-dragon were already healing. He didn’t want her to see any reminders of what had happened. She’d been disturbed, and he’d do anything to take that memory from her.

Once done, he soaped his hands and couldn’t help staring. Water sluiced off her nipples, and runnels formed down her belly and between her legs. With care, he washed her—memorizing every curve, every dip, and every sensitive spot. Her was enjoyment clear and exemplified everything she was, straightforward and good, through and through.

When he was done, he picked her up again and gently laid her on his mattress. Her pale skin gleamed on his dark green sheets.

“You look delicious in my bed, but I think you’d look even better in the morning. Every morning.”

Chloe stilled. Her big brown eyes stared up at him. He settled in the vee of her legs, warmth and desire coating his body.

“We’re too different.” She hadn’t mistaken his meaning nor did she pretend ignorance. She’d known exactly what he asked.

“Not really. We both want what’s best for the sea life we protect.”

“But you’re putting research dollars at risk, putting my job at risk.” She glared at him. Her lips hardened in a thin line so unlike the pliant softness of seconds before.

Guilt and shock slammed him, hard. He’d honestly not considered the consequences.

“I have you to thank, you know.” He kept his voice cool.

“What do you mean?” Her tone and expression filled with outrage.

“All the picketing and escalating publicity stunts were brought to a halt once I understood. You’re not capturing them to humiliate them. You’re helping the injured. The displaced. Like me. You aren’t caging me. You’re rescuing me.”

She smiled with tears in her eyes.

“I want to change the focus of MLLO.” He shifted, to get closer to her. “I do believe it’s a crime to lock away poor innocent creatures. I think you know why I feel that way, now, don’t you? But I have one last stunt to pull off.”

“Yes, I understand why you’d feel that way.” Her expression softened.

“In part, I’ve always used my connection with them was a cover, my way of protecting the other seadragons who live on land.”

She cupped his cheek and stroked her hands along his tense shoulders. “Protect them from she-dragons?”

“Yes. I don’t understand why they try to take us back. We aren’t compliant, easy mates. Once we’ve escaped, why not move on to other males?”

“But she’s gone.” She frowned, no doubt questioning her own statement.

He brushed his lips across hers, seeking his own comfort as much to give it.

“She’s gone. I’ve mated to you. It’s not something I can ever take back. She’s too late, and she knows it. Stay with me.”

“I think I’d like to try being with you.” She lay soft and pliant beneath him, accepting of him, perhaps welcoming his differences. Everything about her was perfect for him.

“I know we’ll make it work,” he whispered and gazed directly into her eyes to show her how important this was to him. Moisture glistened in her depths, a smile burgeoned, and his heart swelled.

Unable to help himself, he slid into her, his length hot and hard, her body wet and willing with his first touch.

“I’ll stay.” She moaned and thrust her hips up to meet him.

“You’ll never regret it.”

He made sure she didn’t.

Captive Dragon

Wild Seas—One

Ella Drake

Published by Ella Drake.

“Captive Dragon” Copyright © 2014 by Ella Drake.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

Manufactured in the United States of America

Cover Copyright © 2014 by Ella Drake.

First electronic edition March 2014

This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

by Ella Drake

Stretched on the beach while the sun dried his plated skin, Patroclus waited to suffocate. Without his mare, he was nothing. Without her guidance, he longed for his death.

The surf rolled over her body, and grief clouded his vision. Cressida lay unmoving with her snout covered in gritty sand, and her tail curled, entwined with Agamemnon. Even in the last seconds of her life, she’d chosen her new stallion over Patroclus. Now with his mate and her new favorite dead, he waited, without fear, to join them.

Further up the bank, he’d landed completely out of the water. Perhaps if Cressida lived, he’d find the strength to thrash, struggle, inch his way back into Sandy Bay. He’d failed her today as much as he’d failed her over the past year, but though Agamemnon had bred more successfully with her, the older stallion had saved neither of them today, nor the young he’d shared with Cressida.

The young.

Patroclus jerked his tail straight toward the water, but his tail found damp, packed sand. Trembling shot through his body with unassailable panic.

Suffocating.

He couldn’t die now. He had to save the colt. After many attempts, he’d finally managed to breed with Cressida, but she’d still turned from him. He’d been too late to keep her to himself, and she’d found another. He couldn’t be too late to save their colt.

The air cramped his gills while he struggled uselessly. In random circles, his tail whipped and thrashed but found no water. His torso would collapse before he made it back. The unthinkable became his desperate hope.

He’d have to shift to breathe. He had to breathe to survive. He had to survive to carry his colt. He’d never shifted on dry land before—usually he started the process while in the lagoon and he hadn’t done so since Cressida had claimed him. With no thought other than saving his child, he reached inside himself. In all his eighteen years, he’d never had the courage to walk on two legs in a human settled area, but now he would do so.

Deep inside, he prodded that sleeping part of himself, and it awoke. With a warm, stretching sensation, a hot wind swept through him as if a ball of fire started in the pit of his stomach and expanded.

Pain ripped through him, but when he tried to curl into a ball, he could not. Strange appendages weighed him down. Like a punch to his chest, he gulped down air. He coughed and spit sand out of his mouth. Loud thunder rang in his ears, and he found relief in the sound of his lungs pushing and pulling air to keep him alive.

Before he could open his eyes to the bright sun, a startled voice came to him over the crash of the waves.

“Do you need help? Are you okay?” a stranger, a female, asked.

Like all seadragons from the Kallial clan, Patroclus understood languages well, but though her concern touched him, fear washed over him. Cold shocked his body into fine tremors, and he curled on his side.

His protruding stomach got in the way, and he lay there while confusion over this seldom used shape and situation paralyzed him. Loud sounds assaulted him, unused to the sharpness of surface acoustics.

“You’re not okay.” The human female spoke from much closer. A scent permeated his senses, but unfamiliar with the sensation, he couldn’t place it. He’d never forget it. It overpowered all previous fears and tremors with a thoroughness that calmed him. More so when she spoke again.

“My name is Lilly. I’ll be right back. I wouldn’t leave you, but I need to get help. There’s a house at the top of the hill. I’m going there to call an ambulance.”

A soft brush of movement over the top of his head set him to trembling again, but he stilled. Patroclus relaxed on the ground and let the sun warm him while he waited. Lilly might be human, but the man who owned the house at the top of the hill was not.

***

Available summer 2014

http://www.elladrake.com