Dragon's Heart (The DragonFate Novels Book 3) Page 11

  Rhys was wounded, and by the effect on his aura, his wounds weren’t small.

  “Why?” she asked, instead of immediately offering to help. She wasn’t very strong herself in this moment, and surrendering her energy to heal would only make her more vulnerable. She’d be sure she was safe first.

  Rhys lifted his hand. “It brightened.” A spark jumped from his fingertip to Lila, striking her in the chest. She gasped, feeling like a bolt of lightning had hit her in the heart, but then the tidal wave of desire that followed made her simmer to her toes. The spark seemed to bounce, because it then returned to Rhys, slicing a white arc of heat through the shadowed bedroom. He closed his eyes and took a step backward when it collided with his chest, then inhaled sharply. She saw him grip the doorframe and knew he was as affected as she was. His eyes glittered a bit when he opened them and his gaze fell to her wrist where Maeve’s red string had been.

  Lila frowned as she touched the burn on her skin. “It’s gone. Did you take it off?”

  Rhys shook his head. “Only she can remove it. It disappeared. I thought maybe you would know why.” His gaze was searching.

  “How so?”

  “I wondered what you traded for your freedom.”

  Lila shook her head. “Nothing. I had nothing to trade. That’s why he was going to kill me.” She shivered. “Maeve must have undone the curse. She must have needed her magick for something else.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Magick is finite.” She tried to think of an analogy he’d understand. “Like the number of burners on a stove. If you have four burners and five pots, you have to choose.”

  Rhys nodded. “What was the curse?”

  “I couldn’t make a sound.” She shuddered at the memory. “She silenced me. It was awful.”

  “Why would you be silenced?”

  “Probably because selkies can charm. They wanted to make sure I couldn’t, even though I’m not very good at charming, and those two are hardly average mortals.”

  “Is charming like beguiling?”

  “I don’t know. What’s that?”

  “It’s similar to hypnosis. A Pyr creates flames in his eyes, which fascinates the subject and compels them to look deeper. It also makes them more suggestible.”

  “That’s what Embron was doing!”

  Rhys was visibly indignant. “He tried to beguile you?”

  She nodded. “When they wanted to know everything I knew about the gem of the hoard. I closed my eyes, but his words still twisted my thoughts.”

  He nodded. “I think Embron beguiled Justin and Ryan to have them deliver that drink to you.”

  “You said it wasn’t you. I should have believed you.”

  He shrugged. “It might not have made much difference.”

  “Promise never to beguile me and I’ll promise never to charm you?” Lila suggested.

  “I’m not very good at beguiling.”

  “And I stink at charming. Something else we have in common.”

  Instead of smiling as she’d hoped, Rhys frowned and looked at the floor. “My memories of having a red string on my wrist aren’t a lot of fun either.”

  “What did it do to you?”

  “I couldn’t shift and I had to dance.” His dark gaze met hers.

  Lila’s mouth went dry with sudden understanding of his injured feet. “Not the dance. I’ve heard it’s terrible.”

  “The rumors are all true,” he admitted and looked weary at just the memory. “It was relentless and I couldn’t do a thing to stop it.” This time, he shuddered.

  He’d been compelled to dance until his feet blistered and the skin broke, until they bled—and still he’d had to keep dancing. Lila hugged her knees to her chest, but stayed in the bed. She had the urge to reach for Rhys, to touch him and console him, even to heal him. First she had to know where she stood, before the firestorm complicated everything.

  Maybe it already had.

  Healing him, though, would complicate things even more.

  “Is it common for the firestorm to be fake?” she asked.

  Rhys shook his head. “Not as far as I know. The last firestorm was a Fae spell and it was the first fake one I’d ever heard of.”

  “In how long?”

  “Five hundred years, give or take.”

  “Youngster,” she scoffed but Rhys didn’t smile this time either.

  “That’s what we followed into Fae.” He swallowed. “Four of us went through a portal together then somehow were separated. I met you, then was struck by that lightning.”

  “Wait. You went through the portal before we met?”

  Rhys nodded, his eyes dark.

  That wasn’t good news. Their encounter and the firestorm could have been contrived by Maeve. “She did get you then?”

  Rhys nodded. “Even though you warned me.”

  “And one of the Pyr is still there.”

  “Theo never came back and he wasn’t with us. I have no idea where he is.”

  “Trapped in Fae,” Lila guessed and Rhys nodded.

  “I ended up with Hadrian, dancing, then Kristofer and Bree saved us.” He frowned again. “We were planning to find Theo when this all happened.”

  This news made Lila want to get back to North Rona as soon as possible. It couldn’t be good for her to be alone with Rhys, generating this light show that pinpointed their location, when both their kinds were hunted by the Dark Queen.

  And he’d entered Fae before they’d met on the beach. Maeve didn’t usually let anyone leave Fae, not without demanding a toll. What if the Dark Queen had let him go, in exchange for something else? What if the firestorm was a spell to trap her? There were a lot fewer selkies than Pyr, from what Lila could see, and she guessed that Maeve liked to tidy things up quickly when she got close to eliminating a species.

  One thing was for sure: it had been a really bad idea to come to New York.

  Six

  Lila was well aware that Rhys was waiting for her to say more.

  “She’s relentless in her hunt,” Lila said and swung her legs out of bed. She felt weak and more than a little parched, but she had to leave.

  Rhys took a step closer. He stopped before her and put his fingertip beneath her chin when she averted her gaze. The contact sent a surge of fire through her, obliterating the thought of everything except pulling him into the bed with her.

  He was dangerous and so was this firestorm.

  She moved to step past him. “I’ve got to go home.”

  “You can’t leave until you rebuild your strength. What do you need to recover?” His voice was low with concern and she instinctively believed that he did care about her welfare. “I don’t know much about your kind.”

  She dared to meet his gaze. He really only had to know one thing and Lila couldn’t see her skin anywhere. It couldn’t have been lost, because that would have killed her. She knew it had been burned, because she could feel the effects of that. Its absence made her fear that she was trapped in a much more familiar way than being locked in a basement room. A lump rose in her throat as she realized why she might have dreamed of the children.

  It was happening again. Panic sparked within her and she wanted to run.

  Rhys lifted a dark brow and she realized he was waiting for her reply. He wasn’t going to move out of her way without one, and he was a lot more formidable than her.

  “Water,” she admitted.

  “A glass?”

  “A tub. A pool would be better. Do you have an ocean in the closet?”

  He smiled and gestured to the door. “I can offer a tub. I’m more the shower type myself, so you’ll be the first to use it. Do you need salt, too?”

  Lila nodded, liking that he’d guessed that part. How many times had she needed to contrive a story to explain her need to bathe in salt water? It was kind of nice not to have to lie—but not nice enough to let down her guard. She would be able to think more clearly once she felt the water again. She had no choice no
w but to accept this dragon’s help.

  She took a step, but wavered on her feet. She would have reached for the doorframe, but Rhys swept her into his arms instead and carried her out of the room. The firestorm didn’t miss a chance to flare brighter, to burn with more insistent heat, to tempt her to invite him into the tub with her. Rhys halted and caught his breath as it blazed around them, proving he was shaken by its power, too.

  “Is it always like this?” Lila asked when she could manage to speak.

  “I don’t know.” He smiled down at her. “We only get one in a lifetime, so it’s a first for me, too.”

  “Five hundred years is a long time to wait,” she said.

  Rhys’ dark gaze dropped to linger on her mouth. She felt the low rumble of his voice in his chest when he spoke. “There’s only one way to stop the flames and one way to know for sure,” he murmured. She remembered him telling her as much and her heart clenched. Rhys slowly bent and brushed his lips across hers, holding her captive against his chest, his gesture so gentle that Lila was surprised. She guessed that he was asking permission. Her heart thundered and she yearned for him, just with that fleeting touch.

  The firestorm lit to blazing intensity with his caress, feeding her need for him and incinerating her reservations. Lila closed her eyes, forcing herself to focus. She’d come for sex, pure and simple, but there was nothing simple about the prospect of sex with Rhys Lewis. She had to be sure of his plan.

  “Just sex satisfies it?” she asked, and heard how husky her voice had become.

  “Yes and no. It’s the conception of that heir that douses the flames.” His lashes swept down as he surveyed her and she noticed how thick and dark they were, how well he hid his feelings, how intensely she was aware of his desire for her all the same.

  Her desire for him wasn’t easy to ignore either.

  “That could take time,” Lila whispered.

  Rhys shook his head. “The story is first time, every time.” He took a deep breath, one that made his chest press against her. “Once does it.”

  “That’s hard to believe.”

  “There are a lot of things that are hard to believe right now,” he said roughly. “The firestorm is the least incredible of all of them.” His gaze clung to hers. “If we made love and the flames were extinguished, then we’d know the firestorm had been genuine.”

  “And I’d be carrying your dragon son or daughter.”

  “We don’t come into our powers until puberty,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact. “And it would be a boy. The Pyr always have sons.”

  Lila was as skeptical of that as of first-time-every-time. “Always?”

  He held her gaze, his conviction clear. “There’s one female Pyr at a time, who is supposed to be a prophetess. Erik has a daughter, so that role is taken.”

  “Only boys, then.”

  “Only boys.” Rhys frowned. “But you need water. I apologize for being distracted.” Lila couldn’t fault him for that since she was pretty distracted, too. He strode out of the bedroom, carrying her into a compact bathroom, all white tiles and grey stone, with a big mirror. There was a glass-walled walk-in shower, but even better, the large and deep tub he’d mentioned. He set her down on the side of it and eyed her with concern. “You okay there?”

  Lila must look a wreck. She watched him survey the burns on her legs and the darkened flesh of her toes then saw his lips tighten.

  When had someone last been protective of her?

  His attitude was seductive, but Lila knew better than to succumb.

  She’d made that mistake once and she wouldn’t make it again.

  The firestorm made it very tempting to just hang on to Rhys, maybe for good. Maybe even do a little more than hang on. Lila found herself studying his mouth and knew she had to put some distance between them.

  “Well, I’m not going to drown,” she said, trying to make a joke. She felt a lot weaker than expected and that worried her.

  Rhys almost smiled. “I guess not. I’ll get the salt.” When he stepped away, moving with his characteristic purpose, the flames of the firestorm dimmed a little and Lila was able to gather her thoughts again.

  She looked around, liking the tidy economy of his home. The small window in the bathroom was high and frosted, admitting light but no view. She thought from the hue of the light that it might be from streetlights or the moon.

  She’d glimpsed a larger room and leaned forward for a better look. It was simply furnished, too, the focus on a kitchen that took half the space. There was a counter between the kitchen and the living room, with a couple of stools pulled up to it. The apartment had to be in a converted warehouse, because the ceilings were high, with exposed beams and pipes. The floors were heavy wood, polished smooth and honey gold in hue. It reminded her of the restaurant, both welcoming and organized, and she took an appreciative sniff of whatever was cooking.

  Rhys returned with a box of salt and put it on the side of the tub. He pointed around the bathroom, acting as if they were strangers—or as if the firestorm wasn’t sizzling between them, taking Lila’s thoughts straight to the gutter. He was taller than her and superbly toned, a little bit tanned, his hair short and his shoulders broad. She watched his hands, liking their powerful grace.

  That ruptured aura made her want to touch him even more.

  To heal him.

  He was one tempting dragon shifter.

  “Towels there. Soap there. Let me know if you need anything else.” Rhys snapped his fingers before Lila could reply and reached out of the bathroom. He lifted a bucket and met her gaze with an apologetic smile. “Sorry I didn’t know how to mend it or fold it. Actually, folding’s not my best trick, especially things that aren’t square. It took me ages to learn to fold my scales away. I was the class dunce.” He smiled, looking like anything but a slow learner, his gaze so intense that Lila’s mouth went dry.

  Her skin. It had to be her skin.

  Her chest tightened.

  Rhys put the bucket down beside her and Lila’s tears rose when she saw its contents. As charred as it was, it was still a tremendous relief to see her skin again. He’d even put it in water and she could smell the salt.

  “I wasn’t sure...” he began when she didn’t say anything.

  “Good guess,” she said, casting him a smile. “Great guess. Thank you.”

  He stared at her as if dazzled, then nodded once and straightened.

  Lila reached down and caressed the skin’s silky fur, forgetting herself in her relief. She exhaled and a burned spot shimmered beneath her hand before disappearing, the skin healing beneath her touch. She realized a bit late that she’d revealed her ability, but kept her hand over the spot as she looked up at Rhys. Maybe he hadn’t noticed the mist of her healing breath.

  “One thing I do know about your kind is that story,” he admitted, his voice a low growl. “If you stay, it will be your choice, not mine.”

  Oh. Lila’s heart fluttered and she couldn’t look away.

  Then a timer sounded in the kitchen and Rhys glanced in that direction. “That’s just prep,” he said quickly. “Take your time.”

  “You’re cooking at a time like this?”

  “You didn’t have time to eat your dinner,” he said, his smile broadening and becoming a little crooked. He was incredibly handsome, and his smile made him look both younger and less stern. Lila’s heart skipped a beat.

  But he was Pyr and she was selkie.

  Their kinds didn’t belong together.

  Worse, if they were together and she chose to conceive, that son would be another creature of mixed ancestry for Maeve to hunt and kill.

  All the same, Lila didn’t want to argue with Rhys, not right now.

  She also didn’t want to tell him that first-time-every-time wouldn’t necessarily work out that way between them.

  “And you guarantee every bite,” she recalled, feeling an answering smile curve her lips.

  “Cooking is my stressbuster. You’re lucky I did
n’t cook for the multitudes tonight.”

  “Would I have to eat it all?”

  “I’d hope you’d at least taste it all.”

  Lila laughed, watching his slow smile of satisfaction light his features—then the timer rang again. Rhys headed for the kitchen, pulling the door closed behind himself and leaving her to her bath. Did cooking trump everything in his life? Lila didn’t know, but the fact that he’d surrendered her skin left her inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt.

  A commitment to their work could be another thing they had in common.

  Lila turned on the taps, dumped in all of the box of salt, then lifted her skin out of the pail as the tub filled. She was trembling deep inside, shaken by the knowledge of how close she had come to losing her skin. She ran her hands over it, remembering how Embron had deliberately burned it and felt a bit sick all over again.

  She locked the door, not wanting to be disturbed, knowing Rhys could break down the door if he chose to do so. Her breath healed the worst of the burns and she hugged the skin close, savoring its familiar scent and feel. Her healing breath filled the small room with a soothing pale mist, one that caressed her all over and calmed her thoughts, too. Lila felt a lot more serene by the time she slipped into the full tub. She held the skin against her chest, then slipped beneath the surface and pulled it on.

  Rhys had given the skin to her, because he knew its power. He understood that having it in her own possession was her heart’s desire.

  Lila decided that she would surrender to this firestorm in return. If she chose to conceive his son afterward, she’d give him the boy. It wouldn’t be like the other time. It wouldn’t be a sacrifice. It was a rational and willing exchange, one heart’s desire for another.

  Perfectly rational.

  Even if this simmer of need didn’t feel rational at all.