Dragon's Melody (2 page)

Chapter Two

W
ithin this trinket is your future, my son. But with all things of true value, you must earn it. This treasure’s toll is threefold. Only love, loyalty, and truth will allow you to gain the prize.

Skye caught the current of the jet stream, stretched his wings wide, and let the wind carry him across the bay toward the lights of the city. He considered stopping. Finding a partner among the willing women below, but it would only take an hour to make it to the mountain ranges beyond, and the solitude he wished for. The emotional impressions of the throngs of humans in the city were a constant buzz in this modern time he’d awoken to and he hadn’t yet learned how to tune it all out. The only real alternative was avoidance. So he flew on.

Finally the buzz of civilization faded to a dull murmur, along with it the incessant emotional pull of every human being. The needling whispers of his own thoughts were all that was left. His dead mother’s wishes weighed heavily on his mind. Her wishes for his own future needled at him to the point he had to shove them aside in favor of other concerns, no less irritating, but just as pressing. He had a decision to make, and it wasn’t a very easy one.

Several weeks earlier his mother’s favorite bonded servant had been mated by another dragon, without Skye’s knowledge. Without even the courtesy of a call. The insult wasn’t something he could just let go. His honor required retribution of some kind, yet he wasn’t particularly close to the man. But his mother had loved Trevor, which was probably the biggest reason she hadn’t mated him. He had been a comfort for her near the end of her life, and she had treasured him enough to avoid dooming him with her mark. He would have died with her if she’d done so.

Skye didn’t wish death for the man. In fact, he was somewhat glad Trevor had found a pair of dragons from the current generation who would treasure him as much as his mother had, and who would guarantee him the long, healthy life his mother had wished for him. Yet the insult couldn’t be ignored, particularly since they were flouting dragon law by doing so. Two dragons mating a single human was against one of the few old laws still standing. Even though the Council encouraged multiple mates, they still wished for each dragon to spread their seed among more than one human. To have two dragons—one a dragon princess—tied to a single human defeated the purpose, their need to procreate. That the pair who had mated Trevor had been given sanction by the Council ate at Skye.

Traditionally, he should challenge one of the other dragons to a duel in the customary manner until the more worthy dragon prevailed. Of course that would mean he’d have to submit to the other dragon unless he actually intended to mate Trevor, which he didn’t. And submission wasn’t his style. Even if the act itself would ultimately be a pleasurable experience, the very idea of the power shift he would have to endure left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Dragon traditions were changing, and for that he was grateful. The Dragon Council had less of a heavy hand where their laws were concerned, finally giving up and letting the Royal Dragon Court take over jurisdiction of the race. Their laws were evolving to align more closely with modern human laws and customs.

Of course, their nature prevented them from completely giving up certain dragon customs, but so far the Court’s revisions made sense to him. The best one was that he had more flexibility to choose a mate, if and when he decided to. He’d never imagined he’d be able to choose a dragon for a mate. But since he was only close to one other dragon, who was male, it was unlikely he’d go that route. Not when they couldn’t share a human woman as a mate. If he chose a human woman, he just hoped she would be willing to settle down away from the city.

The security lights around the mountain compound he owned came into view in the distance. He beat his wings harder and soared around in a wide, sweeping circle, ensuring there were no unwelcome visitors before descending to a third-floor balcony. The few wild animals he sensed around vacated quickly, picking up whatever scent it was he put off that made them run and hide. Too bad humans didn’t have the same instincts, he thought ruefully. But then he supposed he needed them. He would even admit to enjoying them on some level, at least in very small doses.

A small dose would be good tonight, as a matter of fact. His energy was waning after a week of going without. He shifted and made his way through the French doors into his bedroom, then into the closet. Many of the others preferred to conjure their own clothing, but he preferred not to waste his energy when he could collect the finest tailored garments and wear expensive fabrics against his skin. Simple comfort was better for what he had planned for tonight. The local bars didn’t appreciate patrons who flaunted their wealth, even though the money was what attracted the most likely candidates for his needs.

A half hour drive later he was seated on a bar stool, ordering Irish whisky. The pretty bartender poured it and gave him a flirty smile, leaning forward just enough to flaunt her breasts.

“Anything you like,” she said, then winked and sauntered away again.

Women certainly hadn’t changed much in five centuries. They were still attracted to the idea of wealth. Perhaps he should be seeking out a permanent mate among his bonded human servants. Their priorities were generally different due to the faint magical connection they had with the dragons they served. He just preferred avoiding ties to the women he fucked, and it was likely his mother had already coupled with all the humans who served him now.

“Tequila, neat,” a light voice said beside him.

The aura that met his senses vibrated softly with the woman’s nerves. It was a common enough reaction in the ones who were the most attracted to him.

The pretty bartender poured the drink, giving the woman a dark stare before she walked away to serve another customer.

“Come here often?” the woman said.

Skye glanced at her. “No. My first time, actually.”

“First time to Yosemite? I love the wilderness. It’s so peaceful. My name is Gwen.”

“Peace was exactly what I was after,” he said, smiling at her and extending his hand. “I’m Skye. It’s nice to meet you, Gwen.”

Gwen was a short-haired brunette, dressed casually in snug clothes that hugged lovely curves. When her palm slipped against his, her aura calmed and brightened.

“Skye. That’s a very unique name. Were your parents hippies?”

Skye smiled. “No. Irish.”

“Really? You don’t have an accent.” She sounded a little disappointed.

“I catch less attention if I suppress it. But I’m happy to let it out a bit for such a pretty lass.” He put a little extra emphasis on the lilt. Gwen gave him a dazzling smile and her aura brightened tenfold. The accent always did it.

“So, are you staying nearby?” she asked.

“Just passing through, actually. I enjoy the solitude of driving these roads at night. I just stopped to stretch my legs and unwind before driving on.”

“Hmm, I can understand that. I came to watch the sunrise from the Half Dome. I’m staying in the motel next door. It’s nice enough but you can’t beat the location.”

“Ah, yes. That’s a spectacular sight. One of my favorite spots to watch the sunrise.” The spot itself held a special place for Skye. He smiled a secret smile at a particularly enticing memory of his closest friend, Garen, meeting him in the moonlight, his huge, white Guardian shape shifting to his human form atop the jutting rock. Sex by moonlight was sublime, but watching the sunrise together afterward had been even sweeter. The slow trickle of tourists murmuring around them hadn’t diminished the moment in the least. That had been shortly after their Ascension when they were still reveling in being awake and in the world again. Before the pressing obligation to find mates weighed them down.

His conversation with Gwen continued, each little exchange offering subtle, impersonal details that carried more suggestive undertones. The bartender returned, refilling Gwen’s drink. Skye asked for another whisky. Gwen might not be an ideal mate—he could sense that already—but she was most definitely a perfect candidate to refill his well of depleted magic.

“Did I hear you say you’re driving tonight?” the bartender asked. “Because one more of those and you might be in trouble. I might have to take your keys.”

He’d been trying to avoid the woman’s prickly aura, but there was an undercurrent in it now that was a little more than envy for his conversation partner. A woman as attractive as she was shouldn’t have had trouble picking up any of the other men in the bar, yet she had more than a passing interest in him now. Maybe his accent had affected her, too? He would be a fool not to take advantage of it.

“I can handle my whisky. Can you handle me?” he replied, meeting her gaze and smiling.

When their eyes met, she flushed, and the invisible spikes of hostility she had been exuding abruptly stopped.

“Is that an invitation?” she asked, easing closer and pointedly ignoring Gwen.

“Only if you’re willing to share,” he said. With the words, he expelled a light breath, directing it at both women. He didn’t have the powerful seductive skills of a Red, but his blue smoke was every bit as capable of planting a seed of emotion that would sprout and bloom into full-blown lust if he did everything else right.

“I don’t know about this …”

Skye turned his attention to Gwen. Her uncertainty threatened to dampen her already potent arousal from their innuendo-laced conversation. He enjoyed a subtle partner as much as an overt one. One of each would be even more than he’d hoped for tonight.

He placed a hand gently on her knee and bent close to whisper in her ear. “I’d like to let her watch, first, while I make love to you. Then I’d like to watch you with her.” He slowly slid his palm up her thigh until his thumb pressed softly against the crotch of her jeans. The damp heat was as unmistakable as the pleasant pulse her aura gave when he pressed a little harder.

“Oh,” Gwen said in a breathy voice. “I’m … All right. Yes.”

The bartender’s voice reached him. “You’re a little bit of a perv, aren’t you?”

“Not at all. I just enjoy pleasing women. The more, the better.”

“Do you think you can handle two?”

“I’m certain of it,” he said, sliding his thumb in a hard stroke down between Gwen’s legs, enjoying the way her aura brightened along with the flush of her cheeks.

“Well, I don’t get off for another hour, but I’ll accept your challenge as long as she’s on board. And if not … well then, more for me. My name’s Cassie, by the way.” She gave them both a cocky smirk and sauntered off.

Skye withdrew his hand from Gwen’s crotch and swallowed his whiskey. She let out an audible sigh beside him and shakily picked up her own drink, tossing it back quickly.

“I’ve never done anything like this before,” she said. “With another woman, I mean.”

“Have you been with two men before?” he asked, merely out of curiosity and to continue their conversation down a more direct path. He loved women who knew what they wanted.

“No. The kinkiest thing I ever did was …” She lowered her eyes and waved her hand. “You’ll think it’s dumb.”

“Trust me, nothing about sex is ‘dumb’ to me. And we have time until Cassie can leave, so spill it.”

She darted a shy gaze at him and opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

“How about I tell you mine first?” he asked. When she nodded, he went on, trying to think of the least shocking thing he’d done that she might still believe. “Well, I enjoy sex with both men and women. And I’ve been with both at the same time before.”

Gwen cleared her throat. In a shy whisper she said, “Seems like that could get complicated.”

“Not really. More than three can be tricky to manage, but I’m good at directing.”

Her eyes widened. “Wait, you don’t mean that literally, do you? Like movies?”

“Oh. No. I prefer the real thing. And I prefer to be the one giving you the orgasms. But now it’s your turn.”

He waited patiently, watching the way her aura flickered between intense embarrassment and vivid excitement.

“I once let a guy lick my … my …” Her voice lowered and she leaned in to whisper the word in his ear.

He’d had women say the word to him out loud before, but usually the context was a bit different. Having a pretty woman he was expecting to bed before the night was out lean in and whisper “asshole” in a sultry, lust-infused voice made his cock so hard he feared he’d ripped a seam.

“Hmm, and did you like it?” he asked in a low, suggestive tone. He barely managed to contain the strained need in his voice.

“Oh, yes.”

Skye looked at his watch and then at Cassie across the bar. She was squatted down, fishing a bottle of something out of a cooler. Her shirt had ridden up, showing off the lacy strip of a thong that tapered down between her ass cheeks. He’d be willing to bet she liked that kind of thing, too. His tongue tingled when he thought of the workout it would get tonight. Keeping Gwen primed until the three of them could leave was his priority.

“Did he make you come?”

Gwen flushed. Her lips pressed together tightly. She shot her eyes at him, they were a little wild and he could sense her pulse racing.

“No … I …” she paused and her face scrunched up prettily. “I’ve never done … that.”

“Never done what?” He restrained himself from releasing his breath and sending it deep into her psyche to compel her to divulge her secrets.

“Had an orgasm?” She spoke in such a small voice, Skye wasn’t sure he’d heard her correctly at first. When the words registered, he blinked. She was beautiful, and responsive to more than a touch.

“That’s such a shame,” he said. “We will have to remedy that tonight.”

In truth, he had to restrain himself from leading her to the restroom and taking care of her on the spot. The energy accompanying a woman’s first orgasm always had a particularly enticing flavor when he consumed it, but he would have to wait. Instead, he simply continued the conversation down branching paths, all of which gave him more insight into the things Gwen liked.