Chapter 9

Chapter

Nine

Rose

A shiver of fear ran down my spine at Magnus's words. Once again, I was rethinking my rash decision to bring him here. I knew next to nothing about him, other than danger emanated from him.

I should have kept my gun within reach.

Despite the fact he was nearly twice my size, I refused to let him see how much he intimidated me. And the moment I got an opportunity, I’d be strapping my knife to my leg to prepare for any future incidents.

"You really think you're the first man who's ever threatened me?" I laughed, forcing a bravado I didn't quite feel. "I'm not that easily intimidated."

He chuckled. "Maybe so. But I'm not like any male you've met. I'm a dragon, and it's time you understand that—for real. There's no time for games."

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. "Save it for someone who's a little more gullible."

He leaned forward, a dark hungry look in his eyes. "You may not believe me yet, but you will." His voice had gone low and seductive, cleverly stirring something more inside me. "If you don't think dragons exist, then how would you explain the ridges that run along the underside of my cock?" He leaned closer. "Ever seen a human male with those before?"

I gulped hard, my gaze widening. The composed and collected front I'd maintained up to now vanished instantly as a surge of heat flooded my mind.

A blush crept across my cheeks once more. "There's no way," I murmured.

"You sure? Are you willing to make a wager over it?" He stretched to his full height again, towering over me. "Because I can prove it. Those exist in both of my forms, and I don't need magic to show you."

As I stood watching the dark, scarred man in front of me unfastening his belt, the air in my lungs suddenly froze, making it impossible to speak.

On every level, this wasn't right. His fierce determination to make me believe his crazy story had twisted into something wild and out of control. A shiver rolled through my body at the idea of him exposing himself right here in my kitchen. And despite my rational mind protesting, an inexplicable part of me wanted to know and see for myself. The contradiction baffled me.

I should let him. It would only take a second to prove either way.

But as I caught a glimpse of chiseled abs and a strip of dark hair leading down into his pants, something dark and foreign unfurled in my chest. Heat built between my legs and began a slow spread to my limbs. It was like nothing I'd ever experienced before.

This wasn't good.

I had to make him stop.

"Rose?'

I heard Magnus's voice, but it was muffled, as if he was far away instead of standing right in front of me. The heat inside me intensified until it built to a rolling boil, spreading through my veins.

"Rose!" his voice boomed. "Are you okay?"

"I don't know," I gasped, clutching at my chest. "Something's not right." There was an inexplicable weight pressing down on me as sweat broke out across my skin.

Magnus grabbed my arm and the fire in my veins exploded.

"What are you doing to me?" I gasped, my lungs barely able to take in air.

"I'm not doing anything," he insisted, his hands suddenly grabbing at both my arms, forcing me closer.

By some miracle, his touch drew the heat, pulling it away from me, and after a few more seconds it dissipated. I gulped, able to breathe again as I slumped in his arms, suddenly grateful for his support.

"What was that?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

"Magic," he breathed harshly.

I shook my head, unable to comprehend what he meant. "What? No. That's not possible. Magic comes from the earth and the air and the moon. Not from people."

He frowned, his eyes searching mine. "Not all magic is the same. It depends on the wielder. There are those that draw from the elements as their source. But it seems yours is something different. Far more potent than you've let on, and I suspect, has been locked up for a very long time. Now I’ve triggered it, and it's trying to break out. Are you sure you've felt nothing before now?"

I considered his question, trying to make sense of it. "Certainly not. How many times do I have to tell you…" I hesitated thinking over the last twenty-four hours. I'd felt completely off kilter since the night before when I'd walked through the cemetery at the church. Even more so when I'd encountered him inside the shelter.

"What are you not telling me?"

"Nothing. I mean, I don't know. Something's been different since yesterday. But I don't know how to explain it. It's just a feeling. Nothing concrete."

Magnus frowned down at me. "Before or after you encountered me?"

"Before." I gulped for air that didn't seem to want to go in my lungs. "In the cemetery outside the church." The hair on my arms prickled at the memory. The growl that had left me breathless and scared.

His frown deepened. "Didn't you say you were born and raised here? Are you positive about that?'

I bristled at his questions. "Of course I'm positive. My parents adopted me in Edinburgh not long after I was born. We moved around Scotland a lot when I was young, but when I turned eighteen, my parents settled us here. On the coast, so I could be near the water."

"Hmm." He sounded unsure as he led me to the small kitchen table in the corner and set me down on a chair. "I'll get you something to drink."

His gruff tone made me frown, my brows knitting together in concern.

I hated to keep calling him crazy - it felt cruel and dismissive - but his paranoia was out of control. Worse yet, he was pulling me into it with him, his intensity and conviction making me question things I'd never doubted before.

"I can't tell for sure without my own magic, but If I had to guess, you are more magical than you know, which would explain a lot. However, whether you've been misled or no one knew is impossible to define at the moment. But I do know someone who can help us figure this out." He grabbed a glass from the cupboard and quickly filled it with water and handed it over. "Drink."

"You know people? Here. In Scotland?" I said with a smirk. "I thought you weren't from here?"

He shook his head. "I'm not. But that doesn't mean that other fae born don't live here. Witches as well as other shifters. However, the witches in this realm can hardly be trusted."

I narrowed my eyes. "What does that mean?"

"They are not known for their kindness, especially towards dragons. They've spent centuries working to rid themselves of my kind. And it almost worked. Or at least they managed to relegate dragons to a small portion of your realm. Until now."

I lifted my head until our gazes met, his deep green eyes captivating and intense. He was weaving an engrossing tale, as the air between us crackled with an energy I couldn't quite explain, and I found myself leaning in slightly.

"Until now?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. A part of me hoped I wouldn't regret indulging him further, but curiosity burned within me, urging me to listen. My fingers absently traced the rim of my mug as I waited, both eager and nervous about what he might say next.

He nodded. "Like I said. I was pulled here through blood magic. And that power was used to break a curse the witches of this realm had placed on dragons. Only it did a lot more than just break a curse."

I took another sip of water and then placed the cup down on the counter. "That can't be real."

"I assure you it is. My brother's mate inherited quite a bit of power from her mother, and she's been learning how to wield it. Still somewhat recklessly in my opinion, but I think she could help us figure out what's going on with you."

"You have a brother? And he's here?"

"He is." Magnus nodded with his lips now firmly pressed into a grimace. "Unlike me, he grew up in this realm. Although I daresay our parents indulged him far too much during that time, and he turned into a right arsehole. I'm afraid he's not very likable."

"Enough." I snorted, almost choking on his words. My head was spinning from all this information. All of which I wanted to debunk as the ramblings of a crazy man. But the remnants of that burning in my body remained, and either I was having some sort of physical breakdown, or there might be some truth to what he said.

"I know it's a lot. And I can see now why Isaac and Kitra were adamant that I not let humans know about our existence. You don't handle it well. But you poisoned me and then kidnapped me. I don't see where I have much choice but to be honest. I need my dragon back and either you have to figure out what happened or we have to go to Isaac and Kitra for help."

From the scowl on his face I could see he wasn't thrilled with either option. "I take it you and Isaac aren't close."

He snarled. "How'd you guess?"

I laughed despite the tension. "Whether you realize it or not, you carry your emotions around on your sleeves and your aura is a literal walking red flag."

"The fact you can see my aura should make all of this a little bit easier to swallow. How many other humans do you know that can see things like that?"

I stared down at my glass and refused to meet his eyes. How was I going to explain to him or anyone that the darkness inside him had drawn me in? I suddenly and without explanation, wanted more. When in reality I should have been running in the opposite direction.

"You'd be surprised how many people claim that they can read auras."

"Then those witches aren't working all that hard to keep their secrets. Kitra would say they don't care about the greater good."

"I think I'd like to meet this Kitra. She sounds interesting. Although hopefully not so—" I stopped myself because I'd been about to say crazy again, and I really needed to stop doing that. It was cruel and unkind.

"That's because her strength and power were forged under the direst of circumstances," he continued as if he'd not heard me.

My head swung back to meet his gaze at the awe in his voice. Did he have feelings for his brother's wife? That would explain a lot. "You know her well?"

"I do. My uncle yearned for the power she can wield. He was—is willing to do anything to get it, including kill her."

"And you stopped him?" My voice had lowered several octaves as the implications of his words settled in my chest, where I could now feel a new even stranger sensation growing.

Jealousy.

"No. I did not. I was my uncle's good little soldier. For most of my life, I did whatever he wanted. Including hurt her."

I winced. The pain and anger laced in that statement hit low in my gut. He wasn't bragging about whatever he'd done. He hated it. It made him angry. And from the look on his face, I guessed he wanted revenge for it. I was beginning to understand the layered elements of his aura.

"I didn't want to hurt her," he added quickly. "But a lifetime of magical influence made his orders almost impossible to deny. I believe I could have resisted. But to do so would have meant someone else would have been given the job. And under another's hand, she would have died."

I wanted to say something, but with so little information and only my gut to go on, I couldn't find the words that seemed appropriate. This man was no innocent. I could feel the blood on his hands. But I could also sense the torture in his soul.

"You helped her?"

"I repaid a debt."

I doubted that was all there was to it, but to a man so steeped in darkness, there would be no light. At least not yet. He would have to atone, but not until he got the revenge he deserved.

The thoughts running through my head were out of control. But they felt so?—

I yanked open one of my kitchen drawers and pulled out a sharp boning knife. "Give me your hand."