Their Runaway Mate (9 page)

Jasmine rubbed her forehead with her free hand. "Fine. I'll go with you."

A heavy weight felt lifted from Kylan's chest, but it was immediately replaced with another. In order for them to return to the clan, they were going to have to shift to dragon form in front of her. Any progress they'd made with her could come to a screeching halt.

***

Jasmine closed the door to the bedroom. Her heart was pounding. The logical part of her brain understood their reasons to relocate to their home, but it didn't mean that her emotions were so easily calmed.

She really should have done that research.

In the videos she'd seen online, dragon shifters preferred being in dragon form. They flew through the air with their giant wings and lumbered through the streets of the dragon-exclusive communities. They shot fire at one another all the time.

Then again, she had been doing research for why the election shouldn't take place so those websites might have been biased.

After Jasmine shoved her belongings into her backpack and made the bed, she stared at the door. As soon as she opened it, they would want to leave. Sweat coated her palms.

What if she ducked out?

She eyed the bedroom window. If she took care to be quiet, she might be able to do it. She inched toward the window, barely allowing herself to breathe. The morning sunlight was streaming into the room. It would have been better if there had been a storm to hide the noise she'd make and to obscure her scent as she ran through the woods.

Flashbacks of her nightmare washed over her.

Her hand shook as she turned the crank to open the window. The warm peaty fragrance of the forest streamed into the room. The ground was about six feet down. Not too bad. She pushed her backpack through the opening and let it drop. It landed with a soft thud. She froze and waited for Kylan or Dillon to rush in and stop her.

Silence.

She slipped one leg over the sill, and then the other. She shoved herself off. As soon as she hit the ground, she grabbed her bag. Without looking back, she dashed to the trees.

"Going somewhere?"

Jasmine skidded to a halt as Kylan stepped into view ahead of her. His arms were folded over his massive chest.

She glanced over her shoulder to assess her options and saw Dillon behind her. He shrugged and winked at her.

"I thought maybe we should go our separate ways."

"We've already discussed why that isn't a good idea." Kylan shook his head. "Dillon, go close the window and lock up. We'll wait for you here."

Jasmine hugged her backpack. "Well, I'm not sure yours is a good idea either."

Kylan approached slowly. "What are you afraid of?" His voice was soft and gentle.

She stared into his blue eyes. "I'm not a dragon. I don't belong with dragons."

Kylan brushed a stray strand of hair from her forehead. His touch sent tingles dancing over her. "You said you weren't scared of Dillon and me. Has that changed?"

"No, it isn't that."

"My mother was human, so was Dillon's. Every dragon has a human mother." Kylan said. "So you see, we are not so different."

He made light of the fact that they could change into massive reptilian beasts, but she saw his point. It was one she hadn't considered before.

"Done," Dillon said. "Are we ready?"

"Are we?" Kylan stared into Jasmine's eyes.

She barely moved her head in a nod, but when she did, Kylan smiled.

"Good," he said.

"Wait." Dillon looked up. "I think we have company."

A shriek, loud and menacing, broke over them. High above them, dark winged creatures circled. There had to be at least eight.

Dillon cursed. "We gotta go."

Chapter 10

D
illon's skin rippled, but he couldn't transform. Not yet. The air dripped with the acidic notes of Jasmine's fear. The dragons overhead were spiralling down to them. They had to go, but they couldn’t risk Jasmine running from them.

"They've found us." Kylan grabbed Jasmine's shoulders. "Promise you won't fight us when we turn into dragons. Trust us. We will protect you."

She nodded quickly as she pulled on her backpack. This time there was no mistaking her agreement. Thank God.

"You'll ride me, beautiful," Dillon said. He'd never had anyone ride him, but he hoped it was as easy as it looked. His parents used to travel like that all the time, but they weren't usually under attack when they did it. "I'm faster. Kylan will hold them off."

Her eyes were damned near the size of golf balls, but she didn't argue. He never broke eye contact with her as he let the shift roll over his body. He'd never seen so much white around a person's irises before. He held his breath. This was the moment.

He'd already started to bond with her and he knew it was the same for Kylan. They were compatible… unless her fear said otherwise. He hated that she might cringe from him. Dillon had seen the terror on her face at her house when Maryk was trying to break in. He wasn't sure what they would do if she reacted that way with him. His heartbeats thudded painfully in his chest as he waited for her reaction to his dragon.

His iridescent skin rippled under the sunlight as his muscles tightened, ready to grab her if the need arose. They didn't have time to linger over this moment. He lowered his head to her, hoping he might not seem so threatening that way.

"Climb on," Kylan said. His friend's voice was a deep rumble. He was fighting off the impulse to change too.

The other dragons' wings beat the air over them like war drums.

Jasmine didn't move. Her gaze was still locked on his. He couldn't talk to her, not in words. So he winked at her. She blinked, then narrowed her eyes.

"Dillon?"

He nodded.

Her eyebrows rose, as if she was surprised he could still understand her. She smiled tentatively and she reached for his face. Her hand brushed his cheek softly and her body lost some of its rigidness.

"Right," she said. "Let's do this. How do I—?" Jasmine's question was cut off when Kylan tossed her onto Dillon's back.

"Hold on," Kylan said.

As soon as she grabbed on, Dillon surged up. Kylan changed and followed. Jasmine's scream was deafening and much more frightening than the attack cries of the advancing dragons.

They ascended into the low clouds. Dillon's mission was to get Jasmine back safely. He didn't look back. All he had to do was fly as fast as he could.

He hated leaving Kylan behind to fight, but it was just what had to be done.

Kylan would be okay. He had to be. He was the strongest of the strong. As enforcers, they had to be tough. But they didn't ever go it alone against eight other dragons.

Sonofabitch.

He wanted to turn back, but Jasmine was depending on him. Her legs were clenched tight to his sides and her arms were wrapped around his neck, as least as much as she could manage. She couldn't reach all the way around.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god," Jasmine chanted against him.

He wished he could reassure her.

Golden fire exploded to their right. Dillon fought the urge to spin and meet their attacker. He needed to play this smart. He angled left instead. The fiery blast had Jasmine whimpering against his back. He ducked down and spiraled toward the earth to lose their pursuer.

It's okay, honey. I'm not going to let anything happen to you.
If only she could hear him.

Another blast scorched through the air. Heat blazed a trail from his tail up his back, right to Jasmine. He shouted at whoever would dare to risk his mate's life. Violent anger rushed through his veins. They would pay.

He had to do something different. He spread his wings wide and began soaring through the misty clouds. He dodged in and out of the cover as he made his plan. He dove into the cloud again and turned sharply to the left. After a quick one-eighty, he pitched upward.

They broke through and faced their assailant: Maryk.

Damn it. He shouldn't have called off the watch he'd assigned to Maryk. He'd thought with Jasmine safe on Mannix land there wouldn't be a need. He'd been wrong.

In the distance, Kylan was rolling and shooting blue fire at his assailants. The other dragons scattered under Kylan's attack, only to charge forward a moment later in a joint assault.

"Kylan!" Jasmine shifted on Dillon’s back as she called out to his partner.

Dillon roared. Dragon fire streamed from his mouth and nostrils. The air burned green. It coated Maryk's body. The sizzle and stench of burning flesh flooded over them. A direct hit. Righteous victory warred with guilt.

He hadn't wanted to hurt a dragon he knew was already suffering, but Dillon couldn't take care of him. Not today. Maryk screeched as he fell away and reeled downward.

Come on, you can do it,
Dillon urged the injured dragon as he followed the descent.

The dragon's tail swept through the air as he plunged toward the earth. It whipped to the left, then the right. Then he was upright again. Injured. Hurting. But no longer plummeting out of control. He wobbled.

His tail shot out again.

Thump.

Dillon was spinning now. Jasmine shrieked. Her hand clutched at the side of his neck, but couldn't seem to find purchase. Dillon stretched his tail and righted himself, but it was too late.

Jasmine wasn't with him anymore.

"Dillon!"

***

Jasmine slammed her eyes shut and waited to collide with the ground. Or would she hit the trees first? Being impaled on a tree branch sounded worse than having her bones liquefied by an impact with a rock.

Marginally.

Well, no, maybe not. Neither was what she'd wanted for herself. She always thought she'd make it to the age of ninety-two, at which time she would like to die peacefully in her sleep.

Her hair whipped her face. It hurt, but it didn't matter. Whatever was coming next would hurt a lot worse.

Maybe she'd be one of those freak stories where the person lived to walk away from it. Not that she was exactly known for her good luck, but maybe it was just waiting for something monumental before it kicked in.

She wanted to cry. She wanted to remember her mother's face one last time before she died. But more than anything she wanted to live.

Her aunt was going to be a basket case when she found out about this.

"I'm sorry, Aunty," Jasmine whispered. The wind that buffeted her carried the words away.

Shouldn't she be there by now? Jasmine pried her eyes open. She could see the unique shape of the individual trees below her. It wouldn't be long now.

A shadow swept over her. It was followed by a loud roar. She glanced toward the noise as something grabbed her by the waist, jerking her out of her free fall. Just below her feet, the needles on the tops of the tallest pine trees were in focus now. Then she and her saviour were surging up, back to the clouds again.

She peeked at the dragon holding her.

Dillon. Thank God.

She clung to his tree-trunk-sized arm and prayed for this to end. She tried to look behind them, to see if Kylan was following, but the skies were empty. Dillon squeezed her a little tighter, pulling her against the warmth of his solid chest as if he was trying to console her.

Sometime later—it could have been a few minutes or an hour—they descended gently toward a mountain village. The streets curled through the ragged topography, the houses were dressed in stone and logs, and smoke spiraled up from at least half a dozen houses even though it was a warm autumn day.

As they drew closer, Jasmine realized she knew this place. Montrose was a ski resort she'd visited with her mom shortly before she died... just before the existence of dragons was announced to the world. George's Mountain loomed to the left of the village; the ski runs, steep and bare, still streaked down the mountainside. Had dragons lived here even then?

Dillon roared as they landed, and suddenly strange men were running from their houses. As soon as the others hit the plaza, Dillon spoke to them in a deep guttural language. Four of them turned to guard Dillon and her, while the rest transformed into dragons and took flight. Their giant wings blotted out the daylight as they flew over. Massive. Powerful.

And beautiful?

No. What was wrong with her? Dragons weren't beautiful.

Dillon didn't loosen his hold when he transitioned into a man again. She'd expected him to be naked, but he wasn't. He was dressed in the same clothing he had worn when they left the cabin. Of course. She should have known dragons would have magic.

Her arms and legs trembled. If Dillon hadn't been there, she would have collapsed.

"It's okay," Dillon murmured as he turned her in his arms. "I've got you."

He'd kept his promise. They were safe. He'd done it. He'd saved her.

Tears streamed down her face as he cradled her against his muscular chest.

"What… What about Kylan?"

Dillon tensed. "They'll find him."

She clutched at his shirt. "Oh, God, you don't think—"

"No, he's tough. He'll be okay."

But he didn't sound convinced. Her stomach clenched. Was this her fault? If they'd left as soon as Xander was gone, they wouldn't have been at the cabin when the other dragons arrived.

"This is all my fault," she murmured.

"No, it isn't." Dillon's denial resonated through her. "He'll be fine, you wait and see."

Then he lifted her. She didn't protest because she didn't think she could walk yet. The guards followed with their grim faces turned toward the skies. When they arrived at the largest house facing the plaza, the front door swung open. An older man emerged. His face, creased with concern, frowned down upon them.

"Come in, come in," he said. "I knew something was wrong. I just—" His gaze drifted up briefly, then returned to them again. "Is Kylan at the cabin?"

"No. He's out of bereavement." Dillon took a deep breath. "We got separated. The others are looking for him already."

He walked through a large foyer and into a side room that could best be described as a front parlor. Grandiose, the room was more fitting of an old English manor house than a ski lodge, which was what Jasmine had expected. Only the thick log beams and the massive stone fireplace hinted at the building's former rustic mountain use.