Dragon's Kiss (The DragonFate Novels Book 2) Page 5

  He was powerful and purposeful, as a warrior should be. His dragon eyes glinted with intelligence and understanding—not raw hunger, like the brute dragon she’d hunted so long ago—and Bree’s doubt grew. Was he smiling? If so, it wasn’t a hungry smile. It was one filled with anticipation, as if he liked the look of her. The glow in his eyes took her breath away—and his proximity made her desire burn with greater strength. She felt like a prize he was about to claim, one he’d cherish. She closed her eyes, telling herself she had to protect her eyes against the brilliance of the light. She reminded herself that all males were charming when they hunted.

  Still, she was thrilled.

  And that was before he snatched her out of the air, cradling her in one claw, and soared upward again. The wind whipped Bree’s hair around her face, but she was safe in his grasp. He cupped his claw against his chest, protecting her, and she got a close look at his scales. They were large and hard, with sharp edges: they shone so brightly that they might have been polished. Maybe they were. Bree had no idea what dragons did in their spare time. Maybe they buffed and waxed their scales. Those scales were gold, but warm—she knew because she reached out and ran her hand over one.

  They were smooth and elegantly shaped, like armor made by a talented artisan.

  But this was his hide as well as his armor, and he growled low in his chest with pleasure at her touch. Bree felt the vibration of his voice and it made her body hum in response. Her heart skipped and she wondered how mortal women, inherently weaker than Valkyries, even survived a real firestorm.

  Good thing she knew it was all a lie—and the sooner she got down to business, the better. Bree surreptitiously pulled her dagger, taking one last moment to savor the sensual power of the firestorm. She was hot and bothered, aroused and tingling. She felt good, even more invincible than ever, but she had a job to do. She’d get her satisfaction later.

  Bree’s blade shone in the golden light of Maeve’s spell. She hesitated only a moment, then lifted the scale on his chest right in front of her and plunged the blade into his exposed flesh.

  Red blood spurted and the dragon gave a cry that was more of surprise than pain. Comparatively, the blade was small, but the wound would still hurt. She expected him to shred her and braced herself to fight. He sent a plume of dragonfire into the air and loosened his grip on her slightly. He spun around and bent his head, lifting his claw, obviously intending to have a good look at her. He hovered in mid-air, his dark wings beating steadily behind him, his gaze fixed upon her.

  Bree shifted shape and took advantage of his surprise to slip between his talons. She soared high above him on her own wings. He stared at her. She was much smaller than he was, and surprise was the only asset on her side. She had to attack his most vulnerable points. His eyes. She heard him exhale and then he reached for her, his slow smile of admiration doing nothing to bolster her resolve.

  “A Valkyrie,” he saw with an awe that matched her own and Bree was the one surprised.

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she protested.

  “Oh, but I do,” he said and his eyes shone with pleasure. “What a worthy mate. What a gift unforeseen.” His satisfaction with the situation explained why he didn’t breathe fire.

  Bree wasn’t going to be charmed. Not by a dragon. Not even by one who knew and respected what she was. She dove down at his golden talons, sliced at one of them but missed because he moved. He snatched at her, but she evaded him, slashing with her blade twice more and missing both times.

  Infuriating, agile, majestic dragon! He dodged every blow and never retaliated. If he intended to tire her out, he’d wait a while. He seemed to want to study her. They flew in tight circles around each other, but no matter how often she stabbed, he slipped out of range. It was strange how certain she was that he wouldn’t hurt her, but she wasn’t going to be trapped and held captive all the same.

  “How can this be?” he murmured, almost to himself, and she feared he would figure out that the firestorm wasn’t real. Dragons were supposed to be good at solving riddles. Something about the firestorm wasn’t adding up to him—he’d recognized what she was, so he must know more than the name of her kind.

  She had to take him down and deliver him to Maeve before he realized the firestorm was fake. Kara’s release relied upon her success.

  Bree ducked beneath his wings, flying so closely around him that her wings brushed against his scales. He spun in place, trying to keep her in sight, looking amused and intrigued. She ducked under his tail. He grabbed and she slipped through his talons again, then raced away from him. She flew as quickly as she could, beating her wings hard, knowing that he had the advantage of size.

  She needed a place to take a stand, to compel him to fight. She needed a place to defeat him, and he was more agile than she’d expected in the air. Somehow, she had to injure him so Maeve’s warriors could imprison him.

  The light of the firestorm faded with distance, letting Bree survey the landscape of Fae in its own endless twilight. There was a shimmer on the horizon, as if the sun had just set, but Bree knew there would be no stars overhead. No moon. No dawn. Fae was trapped forever in the gloaming.

  She spotted a hill in the distance. Perfect! There had to be a Fae court beneath it, maybe the royal court. Bree headed for it with purpose. Her dragon gave chase, a flurry of sparks telling her that he was gaining on her. Bree looked back to find him perilously close behind her. He was breathing smoke and his eyes shone with intent. He reached out a claw and a spark flew between them, making her cry out when it touched her chest. Raw desire flowed through her veins, making her simmer so that she had a hard time thinking of anything other than seduction.

  And satisfaction.

  What would it be like? Her curiosity was perfectly natural.

  Wasn’t it?

  Bree watched the dragon’s smile broaden, as if he knew exactly what he’d done and was proud of it. She hoped she won this fight, otherwise he’d seduce her thoroughly. Under the influence of the firestorm, Bree had a hard time seeing that as a problem, but she knew that she had to remember her goal.

  She had to defeat him to save Kara.

  Magick wasn’t going to help her now.

  And neither, she suspected, would Maeve.

  Two

  His destined mate had stabbed him.

  Kristofer couldn’t believe it. He had to be mistaken.

  But she’d also slashed at his claw before fleeing. It made no sense. How could she be immune to the firestorm—or even want to deny its allure?

  And how could she be a Valkyrie? He’d wondered if he was wrong, but she’d been shocked that he’d guessed her truth. Kristofer wouldn’t have thought a firestorm with an immortal being was possible, but the spark couldn’t be denied.

  The firestorm was always right.

  He flew after her, puzzled and intrigued. There was so much that didn’t add up. Where had Kade gotten that stylus? How could it have opened a portal? This wasn’t the interior of the building next door to Bones—did that mean it was Fae? How would he and his mate get back to the world he knew? What had happened to Rhys and Hadrian? Kristofer knew they had followed him over the threshold, but there was no sign of either of them now.

  All he could see was his mate, flying ahead of him. His powerful, defiant, enigmatic mate. Kristofer was more than ready to spend a lifetime unraveling all her secrets. He followed her, knowing it was up to him to make the firestorm’s potential come true.

  She could be said to be skeptical.

  His first glimpse of her Valkyrie form had stolen his breath away. She seemed taller because of her large black leather wings, as well as more fierce. She was wearing armor now, including a chainmail hauberk and a silver helmet—her auburn hair flowed from beneath the helmet over her shoulders and down her back to her hips. She carried a dagger—one stained with his blood—and a round shield. She reminded him of the Valkyrie he’d seen a long time before, although she wasn’t the same on
e.

  That one had been blonde, but just as fearsome.

  This one was the most likely source for answers to any and all of his questions. Kristofer surged forward with a sudden burst of speed and snatched her out of the air, being careful not to crush her. She was smaller than him and he wasn’t certain that the old stories about Valkyries being invulnerable were true. Her eyes flashed with fury when she found herself caught and she spun in his grasp. He was astounded by his first good look at the glory of her eyes, even though he’d expected them to be so otherworldly. They shone, a thousand shifting shades of silver and grey, with the occasional flash of green. Kristofer was mesmerized.

  The ocean in her eyes and death in her kiss.

  Just like his father’s stories. The last shred of his doubt was banished.

  She was a Valkyrie.

  What a destined mate! Fearless, immortal and possessed of a strength beyond anything known to mankind. Her kind were said to be impervious to disease and at the command of the great father, Odin. Kristofer remembered it all. How much of it was legend and how much was true? He couldn’t wait to find out.

  Had she come to collect his soul, as her sister had come for his father’s? If so, she was being much more active about it, which indicated to Kristofer that it wasn’t actually time for him to die.

  The firestorm, after all, was about the future.

  And Valkyries, while choosers of the slain, made their selection from those already condemned to die.

  He was so distracted by her eyes that she managed to drive that blade down into his claw in a surprise move. Kristofer tossed her to his other claw and she snatched after the embedded blade with a cry of protest. He pulled out the blade with his teeth, watching her all the while. Again, it was more of an annoyance than a fatal injury. He tucked it beneath his scales in his claw, keeping it from her, even as she struggled against his grip with fearsome power.

  That part was true, then.

  He flapped his wings slowly, hovering in the darkness, and lifted her before his face. Maybe she liked to wrestle. Maybe she wanted to be overwhelmed. The only thing Kristofer knew was that he didn’t want to injure her.

  She clearly didn’t feel the same way. She tried to kick his snout with her booted foot, and he knew her spirit wasn’t broken.

  Not by a long shot.

  In fact, she spat at him, those eyes blazing like mirrors in the sun.

  “You’re my destined mate,” he said, in case she didn’t understand the firestorm.

  “No, I’m your destiny.”

  He shook his head, gesturing to the sparks flying between them. “Surrender to the promise of the firestorm,” he invited. He didn’t know how she could fight it. Its heat flowed through him, igniting his desire and making him taut with need. He slid his talon down the length of her, launching a flurry of sparks that was enough to make him dizzy. He saw her catch her breath at the sensation and leaned closer.

  “Never!” She twisted quickly, drawing a sword from a scabbard behind her back, missing her wings with an expertise that proved she’d done that move before. She slashed across his nose before he jerked away. The blade caught the edge of his nostril and the cut smarted. It also bled copiously. Kristofer was taken aback and she took advantage of that, leaping suddenly for his face.

  She landed on top of his snout. He blinked, but she lifted the blade, obviously intending to drive it between his eyes—or maybe into one eye. Kristofer didn’t wait to find out.

  She did intend to hurt him.

  He roared and shook his head, flinging her off. She tumbled through the air, then her wings flapped and she righted herself, circling around to attack again. The way she carried the blade, pointed directly at his chest, reminded him of a knight riding into tournament. He had to admire her resolve. She apparently didn’t care what it cost her to hurt him—and she wasn’t worried about fighting fair. He dodged out of her path in the last second and she raced past him in a blur. He wasn’t surprised that she spun and circled back again, moving just as quickly. He flew high, then turned in the sky, bearing back down upon her.

  She didn’t flinch but continued straight toward him, her gaze boring into his.

  He rolled at the last moment and her blade sank into his shoulder, slipping between two scales. He roared and spun to confront her, keeping himself from breathing fire in the nick of time. Still, he exhaled a plume of smoke that collided with her upheld shield and sent her tumbling end over end. She landed on a hill and stood at its summit, her shield before her, her sword held high. Her feet were planted against the earth and her wings arched high over her head, her expression and her posture practically inviting his attack. It was impressive that she was undaunted.

  Kristofer landed on the hill, winding his tail around it and bent toward her. She slashed the air with her blade but he remained beyond her reach. He seized the tip of one of her wings in his claw and lifted her off the ground, ensuring that she stayed put. The firestorm sparked orange and red between and around them, bathing them both in light and heat, as if they’d stepped onto the surface of the sun.

  Great Wyvern, but he burned for her.

  “What do you want with me, Valkyrie?” he whispered, noting the runes on her armor. She was as magnificent as the one he remembered. No, more so, because she was his mate. He felt a thrill of pride and smiled at her.

  Her hostility was tangible. “I know what you want of me.”

  “Have you heard of the firestorm?” he murmured, thinking she might not be aware of what a powerful sign it was. “A once-in-a-lifetime sign that a Pyr has met his destined mate.”

  “And will get lucky?”

  “And will conceive an heir,” he purred. “Gain a partner. Build a future.”

  “Not a chance. You have no future and I don’t need a partner.” Before he could argue, she ducked and rolled. Her wing was caught in his grip but she tugged it free with savage force, then ran beneath him. Her helmet collided with his genitals and it was no accident because she did it again, harder. Kristofer roared in pain, fighting his instinct to smash his attacker to oblivion. He rolled to his back and breathed dragonfire into the night sky, then swept his tail across the ground and caught his fleeing mate with the tip of it. He flung her into the sky, like he’d hit a baseball for a home run. She tumbled head over heels from the force of his blow, but laughed at him.

  Kristofer flew after her and caught her up in one claw, bending his attention upon her. She didn’t cower.

  She smiled.

  He wondered why. She wasn’t stupid, but her bravery seemed to exceed the reality of the situation.

  “You’re brave because you’re invincible,” he said, ensuring that he exhaled smoke. “That part must be true, then.” His smoke curled around her without harming her, cosseting her like a protective barrier against the world.

  “Don’t forget immortal.” She lifted her chin and her eyes flashed. Kristofer realized that anything less would have disappointed him. “But in this case, I’m brave because I’m motivated.”

  “To do what?”

  “To bring you to your doom.”

  Kristofer frowned. “But why?”

  “Because dragons are evil. Pure evil.” She spoke with resolve, then drove the heel of her boot into his claw. When he was startled by the twinge, she jumped for his face again. She landed on his snout and crawled toward his eyes, nails extended.

  She was going for his eyes again, the one point of weakness she could definitely damage.

  Kristofer shifted shape. There was a blue shimmer of light, one that made her wings falter in surprise. She stumbled when she landed on the hill and he caught her elbows to keep her from falling. Her eyes widened in surprise and her gaze flicked over him. The firestorm glowed between them, brightening to the palest hue of yellow, surrounding them with sparks and sending an urgent command through Kristofer. She stared at him and her eyes widened slightly. Her lips parted and she flushed in a most inviting way.

  At this hint th
at the feeling was mutual and the firestorm was working as it should, Kristofer impulsively stole a kiss.

  Kristofer felt that his mate was shocked by his kiss and he dared to believe he was making progress in convincing her of the firestorm’s merit. She held herself stiffly and didn’t join in the embrace. Her mouth was as rigid as her posture and he could have been kissing a stature.

  Kristofer wasn’t that easily daunted. He caught her around the waist and drew her closer, intending to deepen his kiss. He wanted to prove the merit of the firestorm to her.

  But she pulled away. She didn’t need her power to do it—as soon as she retreated, he let her go. “Don’t do that!” she said. Her eyes flashed with fury. “It’s dangerous.”

  Kristofer smiled that she was protective of him. The Valkyrie who had come for his father had kissed him. She’d framed his face in her hands and claimed his soul, leaving his body behind as she took his essence to Valhalla. “You want me to live.”

  “No, I just don’t want to claim your soul. It’s different.”

  “Because of the firestorm. Because I need to live for us to build a future together.”

  “No!” She struggled against his embrace and tried to kick him where it counted. “I am a chooser of the slain and I chose you,” she insisted, her tone rising. “You should be dead already.”

  “Not yet.” Kristofer shifted shape again. He caught his mate in his claws, interlacing his talons to imprison her, and soared into the sky again. She kicked and struggled and beat her wings.

  “Chooser of the slain,” he whispered, reasoning through it. “But you choose from the condemned. You don’t do the killing yourself.”

  “Times change.” She watched him warily.

  He sensed that she was uncertain. “Do they?” He considered all he knew. “I’m thinking that the firestorm means I’m not condemned, so you can’t take my soul.” He looked down at her. “So why is it dangerous for me to kiss you?”