Fury of Seduction (Dragonfury Series #3) (34 page)

“About fucking time,” Wick growled.

“Give him a break, lad.” Forge breathed deep, no doubt picking up Tania’s scent on his skin. A wicked gleam in his eyes, the male grinned. “He’s been a busy boy.”

Bastian snorted. “You’re just jealous.”

“Damn right I am,” Forge said. “She smells good...like water lilies.”

Mac’s eyes narrowed on his mentor. “Stop scenting my female. Or I’ll beat the snot out of you again.”

Ass-planted on the kitchen counter, shitkickers swaying in the breeze, Rikar laughed.

“Shite.” Forge cringed and rubbed his knee. “I’ll stop.”

“Uh-huh.” Mac glared at the Scot a moment longer, then shifted focus, scanning the room.

Huh. Wick without Venom. A rare occurrence, one that raised Mac’s internal radar. What the hell was going on?
Yeah, he and Venom might not get along, but for the male not to have made the trip out to the island? Something was way, way off.

His attention landed on Wick. “Where’s dickhead?”

“Healing.”

Rikar’s heels banged against the cabinet doors. “He took a hit last night.”

“How bad?”

“Enough to ground him for a couple of nights.” Taking a seat on the sofa, Bastian propped his feet up on the coffee table. “Myst sewed him back together. It wasn’t pretty.”

Concern lit Mac up. “It wasn’t me, was it? I didn’t hit—”

“No. That water spear shit got him out of trouble.” Standing beyond the dining room table, Wick crossed his arms over his chest and leaned between two tall windows. The storm shutters protecting the glass rattled, vibrating as wind gusts rushed in from the ocean. His golden gaze, usually raptor flat, flickered, and...holy God. Mac frowned. Was that emotion...from Wick? A disgruntled look on his face, the warrior bent his leg and, planting his booted foot against the wall, grumbled, “You have my thanks.”

“Christ,” Rikar murmured, sounding surprised.

Twisting in his seat, B glanced over his shoulder at Wick.

And Mac understood. Gratitude from their resident psychopath. That was something new. Maybe even something he could leverage. He heard Tania now: feet hitting the floor, clothes rustling, the bed being made. A second later, she was on the move. Bare feet whispering over the floor, she approached the door. The urge to shield her cranked Mac tight. His brothers-in-arms weren’t like any military unit he’d had the privilege to be a part of. A bazillion times more lethal, the Nightfuries looked like a
bunch of serial killers. Honed. Focused. Brutal. None of them pulled any punches, and the last thing Mac wanted was to frighten her.

“Look, guys,” he said, meeting each warrior’s gaze in turn. “Go easy on her. She’s a bit skittish and—”

“Am not.” The door creaked open behind him. “I’m freaked out. There’s a difference, you know.”

Holding up the fireplace mantel with his shoulder, Forge’s lips twitched. “Contrary, isnae she, Irish?”

“The best ones always are.” After lifting his size fourteens off the coffee table, B let his shitkickers hit the floor. He stood and, shoulders rolling, leather trench coat creaking, stretched out the kinks. “Myst is like that.”

“Angela too.” Rikar hopped off the countertop. “Wicked challenging.”

Wick nodded in agreement.

Forge snorted. “High-energy females. Naught but trouble.”

Not quite. Mac could think of a number of things to do with his H-E that didn’t have anything to do with
trouble
...like, oh, say, serve up some domination with a healthy helping of bondage. Not that Tania cared at the moment. She was too busy glaring at him. Swallowing a smile, he grabbed her hand and tugged her out of the doorway into the living room.

Time for the meet and greet, Nightfury-style.

Her hand clasped in his, he laced their fingers and turned back to the boys while he pulled her in close. She settled alongside him, body touching his, her cheek brushing his upper arm. Hmm, so sweet. And a little unsure. Yet she stood tall, chin level, shoulders back, daring to be unafraid. Which cracked his heart wide open. His dream
girl, trusting him to keep her safe, nestling against him as though she belonged there...as though she’d been by his side all his life.

A nice thought, if somewhat fucking ridiculous.

The past was
the past
. No changing it, and Mac didn’t want to go back. Didn’t want to think about it, either. The here and now was much better, and as he looked at the warriors crowding his cabin, he thanked God for them. For steadfast loyalty, and yes...even their love. They’d flown over a shitload of ocean—their least favorite thing in the world—to bring him home. And now, he had what he needed. A kick-ass fighting force, one that would help him get his female to Black Diamond safely.

Tania’s eyes widened as she got her first look at them. Her gaze ping-ponged, sweeping the group. A quiver rolled through her. Mac gave her hand a gentle squeeze to reassure her and made the introductions. Each warrior nodded, greeting her with a murmured “hey” or a “what’s up?” Well, all except Wick. He just stared, his expression back to emotionless.

Tania shuffled closer to him—and farther away from Wick. He pointed to B. “And Bastian. Commander of the Nightfury dragons.”

“Commander. Right,” she whispered, focused on Bastian. “He’s the one, isn’t he?”

“Yeah.”

Her dark eyes narrowed on his commander. “Where’s Myst?”

“At home.” An amused glint sparked in Bastian’s eyes, making the green shimmer. “Waiting for you.”

“Oh, well...all right then,” she said, her tone tough, her hand trembling in his. “As long as she’s okay...?”

She trailed off, letting the statement (disguised as a question) hang in midair, the implication clear. If her best friend was hurt, Tania would kick the Nightfury commander’s ass and—

Ah, fuck. Mac sighed. There he went again, getting aroused by her moxie.

“She’s good,
kazlita
.” B grinned, no doubt enjoying the threat, paying Tania a huge compliment.
Kazlita
...fierce one in Dragonese. Mac knew the word. He’d been studying the language of his kind for over a month, picking up bits and pieces. Now he understood most of it when the guys talked in their native tongue. Bastian met his gaze and nodded, approving his choice of female, then looked around at the others. “Now, we headed home or what?”

Grunts of agreement met the inquiry. The mass exodus came next. Four sets of boots pounded across the wooden floorboards. Thirty seconds later, the last one filed out the door, leaving the small cabin feeling huge.

Tania nudged him. “Hey, Mac?”

He glanced at her sideways.

“Can I just...?” She pointed toward the bathroom.

“Go. I’ll wait for you outside.”

Cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment, she whispered a thank-you, released his hand, and skirted the end of the sofa. The second she disappeared inside the bathroom, Mac followed her across the cabin. Prowling at a sedate pace, he fiddled, straightening the furniture his brothers-in-arms had knocked askew. In the hallway now, he headed for the front door. Hinges squeaked, and Mac stopped short. Tania stepped into the hallway and bumped into him.

“Oh jeez!” Trying to avoid the run-in, she hopped backward.

The bundle of clothes she held in one hand wobbled. He cupped her biceps to right her balance. Paper crinkled between them, and Mac glanced down, catching a glimpse of a letter folded into four quarters. Curiosity made him reach for it. With an indrawn breath, Tania shoved the white paper into the front pocket of her hoodie, hiding it, denying him.

“Ready?” she asked, her tone a little too bright.

Hmm. And wasn’t that interesting? A mystery. His female was keeping secrets. A dangerous proposition. For her. Not for him. ’Cause, shit, he loved a good puzzle. Like his partner, he thrived while in investigation mode. So Tania’s evasion and the problem that made her so desperate to keep it?

Fair game. Oh so on his list of things to do.

But for now, he would let it go. The other Nightfuries were getting restless outside, and Mac couldn’t wait any longer. He wanted her to see him in dragon form again. To gauge her reaction and know true acceptance. Sure, she might be willing to sleep with him—allow him to rule her in bed—but did her desire for him cross into commitment? He needed to know and understood the gamble better than most. The stakes were high and the odds piss-poor, but he refused to hide who and what he was from her. Disaster lay in that direction. And true acceptance always came at a cost.

Right on Mac’s heels, Tania padded across the front porch. Staying close seemed like a good idea with a bunch of dragon-guys milling around. Except...

The scary foursome was nowhere to be seen.

Glued to Mac’s backside now, she leaned left to peer around his shoulder. Nope. Not there, either. Nothing but the smooth top of a bluff stretched out in front of the cabin. A cool draft of air blew across the nape of her neck. Tania jumped like a jackrabbit, bumping into Mac, the urge to leap onto his back and yelp, “Help, the boogeyman!” stuck in her throat. God, she was losing it. Scared straight as she waited for the other shoe to drop...or, ah, dragons to fly overhead.

Spooky. And totally idiotic.

Dragon stuff notwithstanding, Mac would keep her safe. She swallowed. Wouldn’t he?

“Relax,
mo chroí
,” he murmured, glancing at her over his shoulder. “It’s all good.”

Relax? He was frickin’-frackin’ nuts. And obviously not paying attention. If he had, he would’ve noticed the way
Wick had stared at her. Jeepers. Serial Killers-R-Us had nothing on that guy.

Hooking her finger through his belt loops, she whispered against his back, “They don’t eat people, right?”

Mac blinked, surprise lighting his eyes. “Not that I know of.”

“Terrific,” she muttered, unease circling. Her gaze bouncing around, she rechecked the open ends of the porch. Moonlight glowed a moment before ghosting back behind cloud cover. Wonderful. Nothing like the pitch-black of midnight to camouflage a dragon’s movements. A shiver ran down her spine. “You could’ve just said no, you know.”

“And lie to you? Thought you told me never to do that.”

“Shut up. These are extenuating circumstances.”

Fighting a grin, he shook his head and led her down the steps. Wood creaked, creeping her out even more. It was the sound an ax murderer made before he attacked; she was sure of it.

“No serial killers in sight,” he said, surprising her, making her wonder. Was he reading her mind? Seemed plausible. Especially considering he kept doing that...repeating almost word for word what she was thinking as she thought it. “Come on. The others are already airborne.”

“All right.” Trailing him onto a smooth outcropping of rock, she glanced skyward. “But if I get eaten, I’m blaming you.”

He chuckled. She scurried to catch up, scanning the area and...

Tania’s breath caught. Oh wow. What a view. Stretched out for miles, the ocean dipped and swelled, rolling onto the craggy coastline below. It was incredible in a lot of ways,
dangerous in others, but wholly beautiful...the power of Mother Nature at her best.

“Tania.” Mac’s deep voice rumbled, lapping at her like gentle waves. Dragging her attention away from the water, her gaze landed on the man she yearned to know without understanding why. Well, all right. The
why
wasn’t hard to figure out. Any woman in her right mind would want him. He was just that hot, but her
want
went deeper than the physical, crossing into must-have territory. And as he made eye contact, she gave up trying to resist. “I want you to watch.”

“What?”

“Me.”

Not hard to do. Standing shirtless in the moonlight, the ocean a magnificent backdrop behind him, he looked like a Greek god. Powerful. Irresistible. Golden skin poured over hard muscle and long limbs. Gorgeous with a capital
G
, even now with his glowing gaze fixed on her.

Electricity crackled, raising the fine hair on her nape. Mac transformed, shifting into a blue-gray dragon. Her jaw dropped and shock bit deep, clipping her reflexes. With a yelp, Tania scrambled backward and lost her footing. Her butt collided with solid stone. The stinging thump barely registered. She was too busy staring...mesmerized by the man-to-dragon switcheroo.

“Holy jeez,” she whispered, taking in his scales, horned head, and killer claws. A dragon with Mac’s aquamarine eyes. The stuff of fairy tales and little girls’ dreams. Surprise circled into awe, making her forget to be afraid. “Mac...you’re...wow, just beautiful.”

He snorted. Steam rose from his nostrils. His mouth tipped up on one side, revealing a razor-sharp row of teeth and one huge fang. “I prefer lethal.”

No kidding. And he was that...deadly with an extra helping of vicious. The moon came out to play again, making the blade along his spine gleam like a razor-sharp sword edge. Tania pushed to her feet. Flexing her fingers, she chewed on the inside of her cheek, wondering if...maybe...she could...

Screw it. He looked too incredible standing there, and she was too curious not to ask. “Can I touch you?”

“Please.”

He rolled his massive shoulders. Smooth scales clicked together as she approached. Heart hammering, each breath coming in a frosty burst, she swallowed her apprehension and stopped in front of him. Warm, mint-flavored breath rushed over her, ruffling the hair on top of her head. Tania smiled a little. Jeez, it really was Mac. He smelled the same, like the man she’d woken up with, not the dragon she stood next to. Moving slowly, she raised her hand and, reaching up, laid her palm flat against his scaled chest. He growled. She jumped but stayed true, lifting her other hand to join the first, spreading her fingers wide to touch more of him.