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Authors: Ronin Winters

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BOOK: Granite
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Chapter Three

 

 

This was a bad idea.

Frost strummed her fingers on the tea shop table, almost ready to puke due to nerves. She should never have agreed to this.

While she was talking, Bella’s suggestion had sounded – well, not reasonable, but a good alternative. There was no more normal, and Frost had to accept that. But she could get something close to it, if she was willing to work with dragons.

Dragons. Too fucking weird.

In a way, it had been easy to believe that werewolves were real. Yeah, there had been a bit of a shock, but it gave away quickly under the reality of what was happening. Too many pop culture movies on the subject, maybe. Still, she’d gotten used to the werewolf idea pretty fast.

Dragons, though, were another story. Even knowing about the existence of the supernatural world, dragons seemed impossible. They were too much in too many ways.

And the more she heard about them, the more impossible they seemed. They were creatures who were not only shifters, but also commanded various types of magic. And they were considered some of the most powerful of the supernatural races.

The whole treasure hoarding thing? Truth, so they were wealthy. And unlike other supernatural creatures dragons stayed involved in human affairs, so they had their hands in world politics.

All in all, she wasn’t sure this dragon buddy system was that much better than dealing with the wolves.

Before she could totally change her mind and run out of the shop, the waitress came over to put her tea and sandwich in front of her. The woman had gorgeous brown hair, perfect skin, and that whole English rose look going on. Before she could stop herself, Frost asked, “Have you ever thought about plus-size modelling?”

The woman glanced up, startled at the words. “I’m sorry?”

“Modelling. The plus-size category is really growing right now. If you can take a good picture, an agency wouldn’t be able to fill every booking that wanted you.”

The woman looked dumbfounded, her eyes wide and mouth open. She almost looked upset, though Frost couldn’t think why that would be. Before she could respond, a man sidled up beside her. He was the definition of big, burly lumberjack, down to the full beard and red flannel shirt, and good-looking in an especially manly-man type way.

Several hairs had gotten loose from the upswept bun the woman wore, and he pushed one gently behind her ear. “Everything oaky?” he asked, looking at Frost like if the answer was no, he was going to toss her out of the shop.

It took a moment, but the woman’s expression changed, a wide smile now gracing her sweet features. “She said I should model.”

“Fuck no,” the man said, and before Frost could take umbrage on behalf of the woman, he leaned closer, his tone intimate, and if Frost wasn’t so close – and also happened to be a werewolf – she’d have never heard what he was saying. “This gorgeous body is mine alone. Like hell I’m going to let anyone else look at it. But if you want, I’ll take pictures of you tonight.”

The woman turned the most endearing shade of pink, and she leaned up on tiptoes to give him a kiss. Frost could see the man hold himself back from deepening the kiss and take things from sweet to porno, and the woman gave him a small final kiss before shooing him away.

She shook her head, turning her attention back to Frost. “Sorry about that. He’s very protective.”

“You did look upset,” Frost allowed.

“Very surprised, but that was lovely of you to say. I’m Sophie,” and the woman held out her hand.

“Frost.”

“Really?” Sophie leaned forward, her face open and inquisitive. “That’s an unusual name.”

“It’s a professional name.”

“Professional?” Sophie’s eyebrows furrowed for only a moment before she nodded to herself. “You’re a model, then? That’s why you suggested it.”

Frost gave a half-shrug. “Yes, or at least I was. I’ve been on a break for a couple months.”

“Do you like it?”

“Sophie, can I interrupt?”

Coming next to Sophie was the single most stunning man Frost had ever seen. Just like the previous guy owned the whole ‘manly-man lumberjack’, this guy was pure classic beautiful male. Put him beside some of those statues in museums, the statues of warriors and not boy poets, and he’d fit right in.

His ensemble of white shirt and black slacks was classic, but damned if he didn’t make it work like the most cutting-edge fashion, and the dark tan of throat against the casually unbuttoned collar made Frost swallow hard to bring some moisture back into her mouth. Dark hair that begged to be pulled, hazel-brown eyes, and a beard that was stylish and not lumberjack.

His smell was divine, and completed the glorious picture. This was not like when she was human, when she adored breathing in the smell of a nice-looking man as he sat next to her. No, this was primal, drilling into the core of her, the musk, the
essence
of him enveloping her, making her want to stretch over him and rub her skin over his, to let it invade her.

“Granite. What do you need?” Sophie’s voice brought Frost out of her trance, and she took a sip of her tea to stop herself from acting on her sudden desire.

“I’m here to meet this lady. Could I have a coffee and a scone, and tell Mica not to yell at me for making you work, please?” His smile held a hint of a tease, the tone suggesting he was doing something he knew was a little irritating, and he was going to do it anyway. All of it good-natured, and all of it in fun.

“Honestly, that man. I never have a problem doing my job.” And here Sophie rolled her eyes, the casual tone suggesting to even the most unobservant that these two were friends. Sophie turned her attention to Frost, her smile still friendly, though not as intimate. “Call if you need anything else, and enjoy.”

Granite took the chair across from Frost before she could say anything or ask any questions. “Hello, I’m Granite, and you’re Frost. Bella contacted me and asked if I could help.”

A dragon.

Here, in front of her, was a dragon.

And something else…

Frost studied him, digging into her memories, the sense of
familiar
getting stronger the longer she looked and the more she became used to his overwhelming appeal, along with the knowledge that he wasn’t a human.

Then it hit. “You were there when I was rescued.”

Her memories of that day – hell, that time – weren’t the clearest. Too much emotional overload and too many terrified women, along with the constant stress of dealing with her captors, and the constant fear that today would be they day she’d disappear as so many women before her had.

What she mostly remembered of her rescuers were they were all big, and the wolf in her recognized most of them as being wolves themselves. Only a couple didn’t feel the same, though she didn’t know what it meant at the time.

Then Bella came, and Frost was helping usher the women out, scared to hope they were really free but desperate to keep on that path. Then there were medical tests, and coming to terms with what happened, and by the time all of that was cleared, she hadn’t really thought to ask about those who rescued her.

“I was. I’m sorry I wasn’t there sooner.”

Emotions were whirling inside her, not allowing her to settle on one way to feel. She was grateful to this male, but he had seen her at a point that she would not wish anyone to have seen her and she hated the thought of anyone pitying her.

Beyond that, even though she’d only spent a few moments in his presence, even though his presence brought forth uncomfortable memories, her attraction to him was only growing. The wolf was circling, its gaze fixed on him, flicking its tail and pacing as it watched him.

The wolf had never been so present in her outside of her first and only shift, and Frost didn’t know what to make of it.

Maelstrom of emotions or not, the male had saved her and deserved acknowledgement of that fact. “It’s not your fault. You came when you knew, and thank you so much for doing that.”

He ducked his head, acknowledging the words without directly responding. “You need help now, though. That’s what Bella told me.”

“Yeah. So you’re…what exactly?”

He smiled, ducking his head, and something warm and longing curled in Frost’s belly. “Bella told me you want to get back into modelling, but it’s too much right now?”

The end of the sentence turned up in a question, and she nodded. “I’m still getting used to the emotional changes that come with being turned, as well as some of the physical ones, I guess.” Her uncertainty and a touch of embarrassment were leaking into her tone, though there was no reason for embarrassment. If Bella called him, nothing she was saying would be a surprise or something he’d look down on her about, right? “Supposedly it’s normal, and I’ll settle down, but it’s going to take a bit. Beyond that, everything is too
much
for me. The scents. The lights. Sometimes even the feel of a particular fabric. Basically, everything that makes up modelling are things I’m having problems dealing with right now. So I can’t go back.”

“I do know someone who can help.” Granite pulled a card from a wallet with the name of a well-known photographer. “Call him and mention my name. Explain the situation. He’ll get you rolling again.”

“Are you telling me he’s-”

“Cat shifter. Lion, to be precise.”

“That would explain why he can’t keep it in his pants.” Immediately Frost’s face heated with the words. This man was offering to help her, and the first thing she did was insult the person who might get her career back on track. “I’m so sorry.”

But Granite was smiling, waving away the apology. “It’s true, so don’t apologize for it. And yes, many of the cat shifters are not automatically monogamous.” But then he lost his smile and his head tilted to the side as he studied her. “Wait, are you and he-?”


No.
No, nothing like that,” she hastened to assure him, though in the back of her mind, she wondered why it was so important to her that this man knew the truth. “Models talk, that’s all.”

Sophie bustled over with tea and good cheer, and Granite winked at her, then looked to the side. Sure enough, the lumberjack was there, staring at them, and he leveled a narrow-eyed glare towards Granite. It was obvious it was all in good fun though, and the three were smiling by the time Sophie left.

“So, Sophie is…?” Frost let the question hang, hoping Granite would pick it up.

“Mica’s mate. Mica’s the lumberjack, and another dragon.”

Well, she was glad she wasn’t the only one who referred to the man like that. “Do dragons mate the same way wolves do?”

“Similar. We have a special one like wolves do. Our hope is to find that person and be with them.”

“Do you have a mate?” The wolf whined at the question, eager to know the answer.

Granite leaned forward, closing space between them, though there was still a respectable distance. “What do you think?”

And it was too much. The scent of him was too thick, too overpowering, and she had to escape. Frost sprang up, clutching the card in her hand. “Thank you, for this. For everything. I’ll never be able to truly thank you, but I am grateful.”

Granite stood as well, careful and controlled, like a man would when surrounded by wild animals. “I’m very glad to help. Please reach out to me again if you need anything else.”

Giving a short nod, Frost turned and practically ran out of the little shop.

 

 

 

Chapter Four

 

 

He should have held out his hand. Shaking hands was perfectly acceptable, very polite. It wouldn’t have alarmed her, but it would have allowed him to feel her skin on his.

Cursing his lack of thought, Granite shifted in his chair, the sunlight warm where it hit him from the window. He’d meant to, but finally near her, all thoughts fled his mind. His dragon had come to the fore, shaking in delight to be so near its mate, and everything about her hit him with the strength of hurricane, blowing through him too fast to allow any type of rational thought.

She had reacted to him as well. He hadn’t been so far gone that he didn’t see that. Those stunning eyes were near black, the pupils were blown so wide, and her
smell
…he growled, shifting in his seat to relieve the pressure of his cock filling so fast.

The meeting had been over too quick. He needed to see her again. He needed to remember to touch her this time. He needed…

“Considering you’re thinking of a werewolf, I think the term ‘mooning’ is appropriate.” Obsidian’s voice jerked Granite out of his musings and brought him into the present, where his leader stood in the doorway, watching with less-than-laughing eyes, his mouth a hard line. “Aren’t you afraid you’re pushing her too fast?”

As those words registered Granite’s back stiffened. “I’ve asked nothing of her. I’ve only had one meeting with her.”

Obsidian moved from the doorway to sit across from Granite. “Which she had to be convinced by Bella to go to. You could have just given Bella the information and had her pass it on. There was no reason you had to meet her.”

Granite didn’t waste time wondering how Obsidian knew. Obsidian tended to know way too much about everything, and since it was one of the reasons he was such an effective leader, Granite had learned to live with it a long time ago. “If you had seen her the day of the rescue, you would understand. She’s someone who will come through when everyone else falters, but she doesn’t realize that about herself yet. I’m trying to help her see what she is capable of.”

“And while doing that, you’ll be able to court her. Your motives are not exactly pure.”

Granite’s back went rigid at the censure in Obsidian’s tone. “She’s my mate. Of course I want to be near her. That doesn’t mean I will force anything she isn’t ready for.”

Obsidian’s dark eyes were hard, not giving Granite a shred of pity, even though they’d been friends since almost birth. “I don’t think you would physically force anything. But that woman is dealing with having her choice taken away from her. She’s vulnerable, and you, my friend, are persuasive. Believe me when I say, I
know
the emotions that happen having your mate near to you. The
want
. The possessiveness. The desire to slay anything that stands between them and you. She is your mate, and that means things you would condemn others for, you might justify for yourself.”

Of course Obsidian was right. Were his leader talking to anyone else, Granite himself would have concerns. Granite lowered his head in acknowledgement. “I won’t lie to you. I want her more than I want my next breath. I want my mate by my side and my child in her belly, and yes, tomorrow would be too far away for all those things to happen, if it was only my wishes that were being considered.” Granite drew a deep breath, his nostrils flaring at the lengthy inhale, before letting it go, letting his voice go neutral, his body letting go of the tension. “You know the emotions that come with a mate. Then you know, above everything else, is the need to
protect
. I will protect her. And that includes protecting her from me, if it comes to that.”

There was a lengthy pause, marked only by long breaths and Obsidian’s unwavering stare. Then he blinked, and the atmosphere that surrounded them lifted. “I trust you to do right in this situation,
but
,” and Obsidian leaned close to emphasize his next words. “If you feel like you are losing control, I expect you to let me know immediately.”

“I would rather my wings be torn off than harm her. I will come to you if necessary.”

Those seemed to be the words to free Obsidian from his worries, for he sat back, smile now lingering over his lips. “Imagine you, mated. Your mother despaired it wouldn’t happen.”

“Yes, I was too
free
in my affections by her estimation.” Granite smiled to himself as memories of his mother’s narrowed-eyed looks at him when she caught sight of him with yet another female raced through his mind. “I really wasn’t that bad. I just looked bad because I hung out with
you
, and you were never seen in female company.”

“Yes you were. Don’t rewrite history.” The tone was joking, and Obsidian’s eyes were alight with humor and shared memories. “Your grandmother would always reassure her, though, saying you were not immune, no matter what you thought. That it would hit you when the time was right.”

“As usual, Grandmother was correct.”

“I know. I can’t wait to see the look on their faces once you’ve mated and bring Frost to meet them.”

The atmosphere had gone from tense to warmly nostalgic, along with a strong hope for the future. Here, now, it finally felt right to share what Bas had told him as they stood on the rooftop together. While he trusted Bas, the news that they had found Obsidian’s long-lost mate was too big and too damaging to rely solely on the word of one person, and only today had he gotten confirmation that Bas had been correct, that Ashirah was indeed found.

“Obsidian, I have something to share with you.”

 

********

 

The text was from an unknown number.
How did your shoot with Leon go?

Normally she’d ignore anything from an unknown number, but this person obviously knew her, and the question itself was innocuous.
Who is this please?

Sorry. Granite. Bella gave me your number when I asked how you were doing.

It took only the sight of his name for the strange desire she’d experienced around the stunning man to reappear, bringing a low, sweeping fire in her belly. Her fingertips itched over the missed opportunity of touching him, and if she could redo that meeting over again, she would have offered her hand just to see if his skin was as silky as it appeared.
It was good.

No problems? I informed him this shoot was professional.

Frost gave a small snort. That explained why he hadn’t hit on her. In fact, he seemed a little nervous to be around her anytime he wasn’t actively shooting.
Completely professional.

Excellent. What about your worries? Were they put to rest?

The heat in her belly pulled and stretched, and now there was warmth in her chest.
There were a couple moments that were uncomfortable, and it would have been bad if this was a normal shoot. But everyone there was either shifter or used to them, so they took it in stride.

She paused for a moment after she sent that message, then added
I finally feel like I might have a chance at a life again. Thank you for this opportunity.

The phone dinged almost immediately, as though he’d been waiting for her to say something like that.
You are welcome, but please don’t thank me again. You owe me nothing for this.

Frost curled around herself, that odd heat pulling at her as she reread his message. She was used to always owing a favor for a favor. It was the way of her life before this little detour she’d been put on. That this male had made it clear multiple times he expected nothing from her…it was different. A
nice
different, but also it made her nervous. This was a game she’d never played before, and she’d always been someone who liked knowing the rules.

The safe thing to do was thank him one last time for what he did and then wish him goodnight, turning off the phone afterwards. The safe thing to do was exit this game, to bury her head in sand and ignore everything supernatural to the best of her ability.

She sent the text.
What do you do? Besides being a dragon and helping out damsels instead of eating them?

There was a long pause before his response.
I’m in finance, and don’t believe all the myths. Dragons don’t eat damsels.

Frost giggled, and only then did she realize she’d been holding her breath. She’d been waiting, though it hadn’t been conscious. She’d been waiting for the sexual innuendo, waiting for him to start something, waiting to find out that maybe the favor wasn’t so free.

But he hadn’t. Maybe he wanted to, if that pause was any indication, and she had no problem with him wanting to. In fact, the wolf near wagged with joy at the thought of him momentarily at a loss as he pictured her words at their most sexual meaning. What mattered, though, was in the end, he hadn’t.

Do you enjoy that, or is it boring?

You’d be surprised how not boring all the ways of making money are to dragons. I’d be embarrassed, but if I took time to do that, I might miss a stock opportunity.

She laughed, kicking her legs up on the couch and settling in.
And what do you do with all that money?
Normally Frost would be embarrassed about that question. Beyond it not exactly being polite, heaven knew most people looked at her as a gold-digger on the search for a sugar daddy. But she was more curious about Granite, about how a dragon saw things, then about dollar amounts.

Dragons hoard. That isn’t a myth.

So, you’re telling me you have piles of money laying everywhere?
Did he have a cave maybe, filled to the top with gems and jewels and gold?

The response pinged back.
No, the money is all in investments and banks. It’s the gold I have piled high in a cave.

Holy hell, he did have a cave!
Do all dragons have caves?

All dragons have hoarding instincts to some extent. The cave thing is not as popular now as it was in the past.

But you like your cave?

What can I say? I’m old-fashioned in some ways.

He did have that air, the sense of being a gentleman, but not stuffy or put-upon. It came out in the playful-yet-solicitous way he’d acted with Sophie.
Nothing wrong with that. I like old-fashioned, as long as it’s not being used as a way to excuse treating women as inferior.

When you meet my grandmother, you’ll know why I never had a chance of viewing women as inferior.

He said
when
. Not if. Frost paused as she read the sentence again, and then again. And then again.

It shouldn’t be affecting her like this, causing her heart to flutter like a damn bird was residing in her chest. If anything, she should be upset at the casual certainty that she would want or ever have the chance to meet his family. It’s not like they were dating or had any ties.

But before this, the men who had been in her life went out of their way to make sure she had no part of their lives outside what they wanted of her, which really meant her in their bed.

It took her awhile to recognize the pattern, but unfortunately, not before discovering a man she thought she loved was actually married and cheating with her on his wife.

After she kicked his ass to the curb, she made a three date rule – if by the third date the man didn’t mention anything of substance, anything that indicated he saw her as possibly being part of his life and not just a pretty plaything to have on his arm, she didn’t go any further and broke things off.

Not once since she instituted that rule had any guy passed it. Except now, in one text, without an official date between them, Granite did just that.

She must have made Granite nervous with the long delay in responding, because the phone pinged again.
I hope I didn’t make you afraid. Grandmother is not scary. Well, except to me, but that’s to be expected.

That bird was still in flight within her chest when Frost responded.
She’s only five foot tall, isn’t she?

Not even.

And you had a few whacks on the back of your head growing up, didn’t you?

What do you mean
had
? To this day, she’ll make me get on my knees so I’m within range if I annoy her.

The bird settled, and with it, the array of feelings coalesced together, becoming a soothing happiness, the type she hadn’t felt in a very long time.
I’d like to meet her very much.

 

 

 

 

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