Chapter 6

6

The witch removedthe dreaded thing making him a vampire’s slave, and Dracin should have felt relief. And he did, only… something strange happened while she did it. For one, he felt her magic, a warm and tickly thing that kept sliding off of him until a different kind of magic grabbed hold. If he didn’t know better, he’d have said it came from him.

Ridiculous of course. He was a dragon, not a wizard. Still, when she’d started, the fluttery sensation against his flesh roused something cold, and strange. His inner dragon was oddly quiet during it all. Unlike when he’d removed his shirt and his dragon encouraged him to also take off his pants.

The moment the foreign object cleared his body he almost cheered. Fuck those vampires and their app-controlled device. Next time he saw a bloodsucker, he’d be chomping on their bones despite their bad smell.

“Where’s that whiskey?” Belle reached for the glass, her hand trembling.

Before he could ask if she was okay, she began to wilt. He caught her, but the glass fell from her limp fingers and smashed on the floor. He didn’t give a fuck. The witch lay in his arms, breathing but unconscious.

“What’s wrong with her?” he asked aloud as if someone would reply.

His dragon did. Needs sleep.

She’d overextended herself helping him. Bloody hell. What was he supposed to do with her? Even if he knew where she was staying, he didn’t have his truck anymore, and calling a taxi would lead to questions such as “Why do you have an unconscious woman?” and could he really in good conscience dump her while in this vulnerable state?

Fuck me. He rose with her, careful to avoid the puddle of whiskey and broken glass, carrying her past the couch in the living room where she would have fit given her small frame. However, given what she’d done for him, it didn’t seem right to dump her on it. So she got his bed. A bed big enough for both of them, his dragon slyly pointed out.

No.

He lay her on his sheets, placed her head on his pillow, and pulled a blanket up to her chin before standing back. Belle didn’t look out of place, and he resisted an urge to stroke the stray hair across her cheek. He retreated lest he be tempted.

Upon exiting his bedroom, he softly closed the door and then let out a mutter of curses. He couldn’t have even said why he was so annoyed. He’d gone from despair at being captive to striking back at those who dared imprison. No longer did he have to worry about Theodore sending him to his knees in agony. He was free.

Am I?

At his dragon’s query, he went out the back door, the late hour and his location meaning he could shift without issue. His dragon emerged with a bellow of happiness.

With a mighty push of his legs, he launched himself into the air, wings snapping out to catch a current before flapping.

Relief filled him and his beast. Of everything that had happened the last few days, the fact he’d not been able to shift had been the most horrifying. Shifting had been a way of life since he was young. Not that he was allowed to do it much.

His mother had told him the first time he turned into a dragon he’d only been a few months old—a shock to a wolf shifter who’d never imagined his kind even existed. She’d found him squawking in his crib, trying to flutter. According to her, he learned to fly before he crawled, which led to her being afraid to take him outside. He spent the first few years of his life a sort of prisoner, which he understood was his mother’s way of protecting him. That restriction lifted when he got old enough to understand he couldn’t shift in front of people, he couldn’t fly too far, and no flying during the day lest he be seen.

In retrospect, he commended his mother for all she’d done. It couldn’t have been easy raising a dragon alone. She’d done everything she could to protect him, he just wished he could have been there when tragedy struck. Finding the person responsible didn’t make up for the fact she’d died alone.

The depressing thought led to him uttering a bugling cry before he returned to his backyard and shifted back into his human form. He entered through the kitchen door, naked and not caring. That was, until he remembered he had a guest in his bedroom with all his clothes.

He cursed silently in his head as he debated what to do. A peek inside showed her still asleep, so he snuck in and grabbed a pair of shorts before heading for the bathroom for a shower and a hard scrub to remove the stench of his imprisonment.

While they’d kept him clean with hose-downs, his skin still crawled as he remembered how he’d been looked upon as an animal.

Bet they wouldn’t have been so cocky if I’d been an actual beast and there was no cage between us.

The hot needling spray had him sighing. He braced his hands on the tile wall and hung his head, letting it rinse the back of his neck, the healing almost complete. By the morning, which was only a few hours off, it would be unnoticeable. All thanks to the witch.

Mate.

His dragon just couldn’t resist, and Dracin wanted to snap, only the relaxing shower had him mellow. As he ran soap over his body, he let himself think of her. That mouth, perfect for kissing—and cock sucking. The very thought of her on her knees, looking up at him, her lips parted to take his shaft…

A shudder went through him. Fuck, he was suddenly horny. He grabbed his engorged cock with a soapy hand, sliding back and forth along his length. Usually when he jerked off, he did so methodically. Pump it fast and eventually he would come.

But this time, his mind wanted a visual, and it chose Belle, astride him, naked. He imagined her tits bouncing as she rode him, her fingers digging into his chest. Her hair spilling around her shoulders. Her lips parted as she panted.

It was so real—and titillating.

As he fisted faster and faster, his breathing quickened, and his hips jerked in time. He didn’t understand how he could picture her as his lover so easily. He couldn’t even be sure what kind of body she had, given she’d worn a jacket the entire time. The Belle he imagined had a wanton side to her, riding him with wild abandon, keening her pleasure as she came atop his cock.

Oh fuck, yes.With a grunt, he shot his load, the cooling shower sluicing it down the drain.

Hot damn, that was intense. As the water continued to grow colder, he shook off his languor and stepped out. Briskly towelling off. Sliding on his shorts. He exited to see his bedroom door open.

His long stride took him inside to see an empty bed, the sheets pulled up to his pillow. He whirled and listened, already knowing he wouldn’t hear her inside. Her scent went to the front door and out. The crunch of gravel had him racing to the window in time to see taillights disappearing up his drive.

She’d left.

Without saying goodbye.

Nooo! His dragon didn’t like it one bit.

Too bad. Dracin preferred that she’d left without forcing him to grovel and thank her. That sinking sensation? Nothing to do with the fact he wouldn’t see her again. Had no idea how to contact her.

Not that he would have.

Nope.

“I’m glad she’s gone,” he muttered as he crawled into his bed, a bed infested with her scent. It enveloped him and followed him into sleep, where he dreamed of her and woke in a puddle of cum.

The bed got stripped and tossed in the wash, and then he scrubbed his place with a pine-scented cleaner, eradicating every trace of her presence.

Now if only he could find a way to scrub his mind.