Kiss of Destiny (3 page)

But Aura recognized that shimmer. He
was
a shape shifter, just like her. She resolutely kept her gaze fixed upon him, wanting to witness the change. Just before his feet touched the ground, he became a handsome and athletic young man.

The same one she’d envisioned, of course.

The change was seamless and quick, accomplished in the blink of an eye and with the same elegance he showed in flight. Aura smiled at his prowess. The way he smiled back at her gave Aura ideas.

The flames that burned between them gave her more ideas.

They simultaneously took a step to close the distance between them, then smiled at each other that their thoughts were as one. The light between them lit to palest yellow. Aura could feel perspiration on the back of her neck and feel her desire for him redoubling with every heartbeat. She wanted to run her hands over him and rub herself against him, she wanted to kiss him and taste him and feel this heat build to a crescendo...

He lifted his hand to her chin. Aura gasped at the brilliance of the spark that lit from the point of contact. Its heat surged through her body, melting her reservations and weakening her knees.

“I am your servant,” he murmured, his voice low and deep. His gaze searched hers and she smiled a welcome. She looked at his mouth in time to see the corner lift, then he bent forward and kissed her.

He kissed with surety, firmly but gently, a man who knew what he wanted and wasn’t afraid to ask for it, a man who could be turned aside with a fingertip. He wanted her to want him, too, and that realization dissolved the last of Aura’s resistance.

She was lost in his kiss and didn’t want to be found.

* * *

She was perfect.

The firestorm was perfect.

Thad didn’t even know his mate’s name and he didn’t care. The firestorm was right. The Great Wyvern had found the perfect woman for him, and he was going to satisfy the firestorm. Even his first glimpse of her had been enticing. She’d stood on the hilltop waiting for him, her white tunic blowing slightly. He’d been able see her slim curves through the sheer fabric. Her hair was a rich brown and cascaded in loose curls to her hips. It blew behind her, as well. Her lips were rosy and her eyes dark, her lashes thick. She was smooth and feminine and luscious.

Thad wanted her as he’d never wanted a woman before.

He saw her look at him and realized she wasn’t surprised when he shifted shape. He thrilled that there would be no secrets between them, then touched her chin and felt the heat of desire race through his body. When he touched his lips to hers, it seemed to Thad that the firestorm exploded. He saw white light and was aware only of the feel of her soft lips beneath his own. He smelled that sweet perfume and knew he’d be able to find her anywhere.

She gave a little gasp of surprise and he swallowed the sound, gathering her in his arms as he deepened his kiss. In one way, he wanted to make the satisfaction of the firestorm last as long as possible; in another, he couldn’t stand it. He wanted her and he wanted her now. He felt her hand on his shoulder, and her fingers slide up his neck to tangle in his hair. Her kiss was sweet and intoxicating, and he loved how she opened her mouth to him, inviting him closer. The touch of her tongue made him catch his breath. He liked that she was honest about her desire.

Their thoughts were as one, as they would be from this day forward. He had one arm around her waist and let the other hand slide over her cheek, to her nape, then down her back. He cupped her breast, convinced it was the most perfect size and shape, then broke their kiss. He bent to take her taut nipple in his mouth, and she moaned.

“I don’t even know your name,” she whispered, her fingers winding into his hair.

“It doesn’t matter,” Thad said, lifting the front of her tunic to bare her breast to his gaze. He flicked a glance at her and smiled. “We have to satisfy the firestorm, first.”

“The firestorm,” she echoed, then caught her breath when he flicked his tongue over her nipple. He caressed her breast even as he closed his mouth over the tight peak, suckling and licking as she arched back in his embrace. He felt her fingers lock into his hair and felt her heart racing.

His own heart matched its pace to hers, a sensation that made Thad dizzy. He was snared in a glowing orb of light, a slave to sensation and pleasure, wanting only to savor his mate and please her completely.

She tugged his hair. “What’s the firestorm?”

“This!” Thad straightened and caught her shoulders in his grasp. He watched the flames grow and spread from his hands, their golden light burnishing her skin. Of course, she would be the finest treasure in his hoard. His mate. His love. His partner. “This heat, this fire, this blaze! It’s all the firestorm.”

“And it goes away?” She pursed her lips, pouting a little, even as her eyes sparkled.

Thad smiled. “When we create a son, the sparks will die.”

“A son?”

“That’s what the firestorm’s about.”

Her eyes flashed then, but Thad didn’t think it was with passion. She stepped out of his embrace, putting distance between them.

“No,” she said with such force that he wondered who she was trying to convince. “There can’t be a son.”

“When we satisfy the firestorm, there will be.” Thad had no opportunity to present his plan, because she simply disappeared. He saw a shimmer of silver and felt a breath of wind, and then he was alone on a high mountain peak. The land fell away before him, and the clouds below had cleared enough that he could see fields and a coastline far below.

But there were no caves or trees. There was no place his mate could hide.

Thad turned in place, confused. Where had she gone? How had she vanished into thin air? Why had she gone?

He held up his hand, but the firestorm had died to a faint glimmer emanating from the tip of one finger. He held his hand before himself, turning, but the light didn’t brighten no matter which way he was facing. Thad felt a ripple of panic. How would he find her again? How would he fulfill their destiny together?

Why had she left?

Then he took a deep breath and smelled her perfume. A triumphant sense of his own power rolled through him and Thad used it to shift his shape. In dragon form, he took flight and soared over the mountain, seeking the trail of perfume.

When he found it, he found the spark of the firestorm, too. The light brightened as the scent grew stronger. Encouraged, Thad flew in pursuit of his mate, knowing it was fate that she would bear his son.

All he had to do was convince her of that.

* * *

There was a spring in a glade, high on Mount Olympus, shielded from the view of the gods by a hovering mist. The glade was protected from the curiosity of mortals by location: it nestled within a circle of jagged peaks filled with dangerous precipices and was prone to bursts of wind. The mist was perpetual between the peaks and an abundance of alpine flowers grew on the slopes. The spring flowed constantly from a crack in the rocks and flowed into a pool with a surface as smooth as a mirror.

The nymphs gathered here, lingering as their responsibilities and whims demanded. The glade was subjected to fleeting breezes, periods of light rain, fog and rainbows, as the nymphs came and went in their alternate forms. It wasn’t the Garden of the Hesperides, but it was much closer. Aura, in the form of a breeze, blew toward the glade with purpose.

She wanted to be with her own kind.

She wanted to know if anyone else had ever experienced a firestorm. Could she make love to this dragon shifter without conceiving his son? Aura was desperate to know. His kiss had done nothing to minimize her desire—in fact, she felt that she was filled with an even more consuming lust. If she hadn’t left him, she would have been entangled with him already.

To Aura’s relief, Nephele was in the glade. Nephele was as fair in coloring as the clouds she could become and knew so much more of the world than Aura. Nephele trailed her hand in the water as she listened to the gossip of the other nymphs, characteristically quiet and attentive.

One of the Anthousai was there, easily identified by the strong scent of hyacinth flowers. Aura didn’t know this one’s name but she was dark-haired and pretty like all her sisters. The flower nymphs looked more or less the same to Aura, and she found none of them to be very clever. They were sweet, though, and forgave much.

Arethusa was standing before the spring, her words sparkling as they fell. She was a naiad, a nymph of the fresh waters, and the fact that she hovered on the cusp of change was a sign of her excitement.

Aura blew near to their circle and changed shape, even as Arethusa exclaimed. “She was one of us, but not immortal.” Droplets fell from the nymph in her agitation. “She called herself an Earthdaughter.” The other nymphs tried the word, then Nephele nodded to Aura. “She could make the earth heave and start an earthquake.”

The nymphs exchanged glances. “Like a goddess!”

Nephele snapped her fingers. “I’ve heard of women like this. They’re similar to us, but are mortal. They tend to stay in human form and live in human society. There was one I blew past a while ago on a mountaintop. She called herself a Waterdaughter and could change into a shimmering pillar of water.”

“But that’s what you can do,” the flower nymph declared. “Change into water.”

Arethusa shook her head. “We’re bound to a specific source. I can only come to you because the water flows from here to my well. It’s not the same as being able to wander around like a mortal and change shape whenever you want.”

“As a Waterdaughter, you could pursue a man, instead of waiting for him to come back,” the flower nymph said with a sigh.

“Or anything else,’ Arethusa said. She sat down, her expression revealing that she had more to tell. “Here’s the remarkable thing.” She looked between the nymphs, verifying that she had their attention, then dropped her voice to a whisper. “A man came after
her
.”

“Did she entrance him and seduce him?” the flower nymph asked.

“She was already pregnant with his son.”

“Impossible,” Aura said with resolve. “They never come back once we’re pregnant.”

“This one did!” Arethusa was triumphant. “He didn’t just come back: he sought her out.” The nymphs exchanged glances. Aura knew she wasn’t the only one who had never heard of such a thing.

“But you said you saw her in the Underworld,” Nephele protested quietly. “You mean he was dead, too?”

“No, he was mortal and alive, but he came after her.” Arethusa nodded. “He fought Cerberus and pursued her into the Underworld.”

“He willingly entered the realm of the dead,” Aura murmured, amazed. She wasn’t sure whether to believe Arethusa or not. Men, in her experience, weren’t self-sacrificing at all.

But if one was, he’d be exactly the kind of man she wanted. Aura admired those who didn’t always consider themselves first.

“Then he really did want to be with her,” the flower nymph said. “How romantic!”

“How could you know this?” Nephele asked.

“Orphne told me that she saw it all.”

“Because she was in the River Acheron,” Aura contributed.

Arethusa nodded again. “She said he fought Cerberus and was losing, but this Earthdaughter sang the hellhound to sleep, to save him. They argued at the gates and she went into the Underworld, but he
followed
her.”

This story showed unusual dedication on the part of the man. Aura had problems believing it was true. After all, he had had his pleasure of the Earthdaughter, and Aura knew better than to expect a man to linger after that.

“Did he come out again?” the flower nymph asked. “Or was he lured to his death?” She seemed to take a salacious glee in the possibility.

“They came out together. That’s what I saw.”

“Your waters flow far and deep, Arethusa,” Nephele said with a smile.

“Not far enough that I could hide from Alpheus,” the nymph said bitterly. “If justice had been served, I would still be paying homage to my lady Artemis, but my choice to remain chaste was irrelevant to him.”

“Chastity is over-rated,” the flower nymph said slyly. “We keep our youth and vigor by claiming men.” She smiled. “As many as possible.”

“You said it was romantic that he came back,” Nephele pointed out.

“Because it would make a repeat conquest easier,” the flower nymph declared with a toss of her hair. “Much easier than enchanting him and keeping him captive.” She pouted a little. “Don’t they say that absence makes the heart grow fonder? Something about seeing a captive all the time makes me want him less.”

“Because you remember your conquests so clearly,” Nephele said with false sweetness. Nymphs were of two varieties: those who adored sex and couldn’t get enough of it, and those who chose to remain chaste. Of the first variety, the flower nymphs were notorious for being insatiable.

Nephele was one of the few nymphs who tried to keep her desires in balance without being chaste. Aura had always admired her for that and tried to strike a similar balance. She enjoyed sex enough that she wanted it to remain a special act.

She shivered in recollection of the dragon shifter’s kiss. What would it be like to be with him?