Forever Rowan (6 page)

Bloody hell, man you have really gotten yourself in a fuckin’ pickle,
he thought as he made his way around the room. The lights were on a dimmer and Aidan raised his eyes to the ceiling. Of course they were covered by something clear, and he bet it wasn’t made of glass.

Stone wasn’t stupid. He wouldn’t leave anything that could be used for a weapon lying around. There was no other furniture in the room, but a pile of extra clothing was folded neatly on the floor.

Her scent floated in the air. Rowan was back. There were two doorways, one led to Rowan and the other was a bathroom. Aidan made his way to the second opening and looked inside. No mirror, only a sink, toilet and small shower stall, no curtain, no privacy.

What did he really expect? He was a prisoner of a psychotic fanatic, not staying in a five-star resort.

He left the bathroom. Only one more room to go. Aidan’s heart rate picked up speed, the hammering in his chest becoming harder at the mere thought of seeing Rowan again.

He’d never believe she was on her father’s side or that she’d set out to seduce him. Dragons were fairly good at reading people’s emotions through facial expression and body language, a gift each member of the clan was born with. Instinctively they could distinguish the smallest movement of the body, the slightest inflection in the voice. Many dragons were ambassadors to just about every county in the world. Despite their tempers, or maybe even because of them, dragonkind had learned to control their beasts and become great diplomats as a result.

Aidan knew he possessed none of his race’s greater qualities. What he did have had been torn out of him the day Fiona was taken from his arms by hunters, never to be seen again.

He held onto the anger of that day, held it tightly to him. He never forgot and he’d vowed to find those who had taken her and kill them.

Shaking his head, he stalked toward the door that led to Rowan. Now was not the time for a trip down memory lane.

The light in the room was dim. He recognized her shape on a sofa placed against the wall. He turned the dimmer up, wanting to see her face. He’d be able to tell if she held any guilt or deception.

She was turned away from him, her body huddled as close to the couch as she could get. Her breathing was slow and even. She was sleeping. He wasn’t sure if she’d been drugged as he’d been, and decided to leave her in peace. He could still smell the blood from her earlier wounds, but didn’t wake her. He fought the need to take her in his arms and pushed it aside.

She wore only a thin cotton robe and he grew hard as he imagined her naked underneath. He clenched his fists to keep from sliding a hand between her thighs and touching what was his. The bonding released a never-ending supply of pheromones. The need to fuck his wife over and over again would be impossible to fight for any length of time.

Instead he concentrated on the rest of the room. Like in the bedroom, there was a camera up high on the wall. There were two gigantic pillows in the middle of the room which he supposed were meant to be used as chairs.

The door to the room was the same kind as the one in his cell. This one had a slot much like the ones you see in jail and lying at the bottom was a bag. The aroma of cold chicken wafted out from it.

He sat down next to the door and ripped the bag open. Yep, cold chicken along with two Styrofoam bowls, one containing potatoes and the other broccoli. Accompanying the food were two large cups filled with water. He drank his in two swallows. At least they could fill them up in the sink when needed. It could have been raw steak for all he cared, now that he was free to move about his appetite had returned. He ate with relish and moaned slightly as his stomach filled with food. He left half of the contents in the bag for Rowan when she woke.

After filling his belly, Aidan stayed where he was, watching the rise and fall of Rowan’s back. He knew there was true evil in the world. Hell, it had touched his life once, he should have expected that he’d run headlong into it again. He was torn, part of him resentful he hadn’t listened to his initial instincts and stayed the hell away from here. If he’d been thinking straight, he would have suggested rescuing Rowan from somewhere other than Stone’s personal compound. But rationality had been the furthest thing from everyone’s mind when Jenna talked about getting her sisters free of their father. And she’d been right. He may have wanted to bitch that he’d been dragged into this situation kicking and screaming, but he knew better.

In a fucked-up way, he was glad he’d made the choice to come here. Rowan... he never would have met her had he backed down. He now had an inkling of why Nic had become so quickly devoted to Jenna. There was, indeed, something special about the Stone sisters. In Rowan he was witnessing true courage and selflessness, qualities he’d sworn humans couldn’t possibly possess in such quantities. The woman lying on the sofa was smashing all the bigoted beliefs he’d ever clung to in order to justify his asshole behavior toward them.

After what seemed like hours, Rowan had still not woken. He needed to talk with her and patience wasn’t his strong suit.

He crawled to her, kneeling beside the couch. Laying his hand on her, he squeezed her shoulder and gently shook. She sat straight up, a scream of bloody terror ripping through the room. Her eyes were wild as she looked around quickly. Her robe fell off of her shoulder as she finally focused on his face.

“What the hell?” Aidan fell back as he saw long bloody marks down the back of her shoulder. She quickly pulled up the sleeve and gathered the robe high around her throat. He reached for her, but she bounded off the couch and ran into the bedroom.

He went after her and when he entered the room she was huddled down next to the mattress. Her shoulders shaking and soft sounds escaped her lips. He didn’t understand the words but they sounded like a prayer.

Fuckin’ bloody hell, what did they do to her this fucking time?
He was on the verge of asking her when she looked up at him. Her face brought him to his knees. This was not the same woman whom only hours before kissed the hell out of him.

Her warrior spirit, the one that made her aura a brilliant scarlet, was gone from her face. She looked haunted and beaten. The pale skin and trembling shoulders terrified him. He reached for her and she flinched hard, backing into the wall, trying to make herself into a tight ball. She was like a wounded animal backed into a corner, making herself as small as possible.

“Rowan please,” he cooed, “I won’t hurt you. I promise.”

She shook her head in denial. “You want to kill me. Kill me because of him.”

“No, no.” He made his voice soft and gentle. “You are sister to Jenna. I made a promise to Jenna to find you. Do you think I’m capable of hurting you now?”

Rowan’s arms came around her legs, and she began rocking back and forth. “He can’t be stopped, he can’t be stopped...I didn’t know what he had planned.” Fat tears rolled down her cheeks, ripping his heart. When he moved to get a little closer she put her hands out, warding him away.

“Don’t...please.” She continued to rock. He felt so fucking useless.

“Shhhh...shhhhh my
muimin
. Don’t.” He reached forward to graze her cheek with the tip of his finger. “I’ll only sit here with you, hold your hand. I promise, nothing more.” His hand slipped over hers, which were still holding tightly to her knees. She began to relax and allowed him to take one of her hands in his.

For hours he sat with her, holding her hand, rubbing his thumb along her wrist, trying to soothe her through touch alone. She refused to meet his eyes, but he didn’t care, her soft moans and silent tears were fading.

He wanted to kill, his head was splitting in two with the need to change and seek vengeance for Rowan. No one should ever have to endure what she had, on behalf of her sisters, on behalf of himself. How could a man ever thank a woman such as her? Would he have ever been able to endure what Rowan had endured?

When he felt her calm down, knew her breathing had regulated, he squeezed her hand lightly.

“Rowan, I want you to lie on the bed. Get on your stomach and let me look.” He stood, holding out his hands. She grasped his fingers and he pulled her from the hard floor.

He helped her to lay across the bed, leaving her for only a moment as he grabbed a t-shirt from the pile of clothes and tossed it over the camera, managing to cover the lens.

He returned and knelt on the floor. “Untie your robe so I can see your injuries.”

“I can’t ...I’m hideous...”she cried, her face buried in one of the pillows.

“Nonsense. You are beautiful, Rowan. If not, my dragon would have never recognized you as his match. Please, Rowan.”

She moved her hands beneath her and reluctantly loosened the belt. Aidan reached for the neckline and slowly peeled back the robe down her back.

Not sure if he really believed what he was seeing, he walked over and turned the lights on brighter.

He choked back a cry as he looked at her back. From her shoulders to the bottom of her spine were scars. In the cell yesterday the light had been dim, hiding the worst of the marks, but now he was able to see just how much damage she’d received in her lifetime.

Some of the scars were small and pale, others thick and pink. Like the rings on a tree, he was able to determine newer wounds from the oldest. Her skin was mottled and what should have been perfectly smooth bare skin looked more like a road map.

Blood was dried on her flesh. Obviously she had taken another beating earlier. His hands shook as he took the rest of the robe off of her. The scars rode down every inch of skin, from the backs of her thighs, along her calves and all the way to her ankles.

His stomach lurched and bile burned his throat. Not from the way she looked, but from the knowledge of all the pain she’d experienced in her young life.

Careful not to touch her fresh wounds, he placed his strong fingers around one ankle, slowly sliding it up her leg. He touched every scar, big and small. He felt every bump and ridge that was now a part of her.

Rowan flinched as his continued to stroke her broken body. He made an attempt to soothe her, keeping her quiet by humming.

Dragons were able to calm others through touch and voice. He hadn’t done so with anyone except his little sister, and then only when she’d had bad dreams. It was so long ago, he’d thought he’d lost the ability, but now it came back to him as naturally as breathing, and it was working on Rowan. He kept touching her, petting her and lightly kneading tense muscles. He kept the deep tenor of his voice, humming an ancient song meant to quiet a frightened child until she was lulled into a dream-like state.

Standing, he walked to the camera mounted on the wall and yanked the shirt down.

“I am going to kill you.” He said slowly to the silent lens. He knew they were being watched. He wanted Stone to know he was going to come after him, somehow, some way. He would destroy those who’d taken from his family, his friends and now his wife. He tossed the shirt back over the lens.

Striding to the bathroom, he ripped off his shirt and tore it into long strips, which he ran under warm water. Wringing them out, he returned to the bed.

Gently, he washed each and every lash mark along her back, and as he wiped the blood off his mouth watered. He wanted to kiss each and every place he cleaned but fought the urge. This wasn’t the time to satisfy
his
wants. She deserved to be tended and he was grateful to be the one to do it.

The wounds weren’t bleeding any more, and by the depth of the cuts she’d been whipped enough to hurt, but not enough to cause serious damage. At least not the kind of damage her body had already sustained.

He couldn’t get the image of the terror in her honey-colored eyes out of his mind, and he swore that even if it took the rest of his life he’d insure she’d never have that look on her face again.

Rowan woke lying on her back. The warmth pressed close to her made her feel safe. Opening her eyes she found Aidan at her side, one arm thrown across her belly. She was naked under the covers, and from the heat of his skin sinking into hers, so was he.

She should have been mortified, but she wasn’t. It felt right to be lying naked with this man. The light was low but she could still see his broad chest, hairless and deeply muscled. Her fingers itched to reach out and run over his flat stomach.

His large hand across her tummy was warm and strong. Fingers spread wide, they spanned over her, sending little shock waves through her and into more intimate parts.

She felt totally at peace for the first time in her life. Even their hideous situation didn’t seem quite as bad when she was held by this man.

She frowned slightly. Who was she kidding?

Her father was going to kill them both. With the chip imbedded in Aidan’s neck there was no way he could change into his dragon form. He didn’t have the kind of strength they would need without the change.

She prayed Jenna’s man was okay, and that they would attempt another rescue. She wasn’t hopeful, though. Her father had moved them to a deeper part of the compound, three stories below his home. The guards would be doubled and tripled against any incoming threat. William Stone had enough money and connections that his fortress was guarded better than the White House.

The hand on her stomach moved, drawing small lazy circles around her belly button.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “I’m not sure how you did it, but I feel a lot better.”

She chanced a look at him and was rewarded with a smile. His eyes crinkled at the corners and she knew it was a genuine smile, just for her.

“You’re welcome, Rowan.” He pushed himself up on his side, propping his head in his hand. “What the hell has he done to you?”

Rowan squeezed her shoulder blades together involuntarily. She shrugged awkwardly before answering. “Father likes to have total control. I wasn’t about to allow Jenna to take the punishment. She is too fragile. Erin, well she’s too traumatized. She found our mother after she was murdered. It only made sense that I take it for them.”