Thea Harrison - Dragon Bound

“You’re right, I am a stupid woman,” she mumbled. “I don’t understand you.”

“Maybe you will someday,” he said, even though he could sense she had already plunged into sleep. He traced the elegant curve of her brow with a finger, followed the delicate arch of her ear. Her still-damp hair fell over his arm, an extravagant waterfall of moonlit gold.

Maybe you will someday, just as soon as I understand myself.

The dragon held her sleeping figure closer. He lowered his cheek to her head and looked around the clearing in bafflement, as if the quiet, peaceful scene could tell him who he was.

Pia was running for the sheer joy of it.

The wind played in her hair. The moon looked down from its throne in the royal purple sky and smiled at her. The night was brighter than she’d ever seen before, a velvet carpet strewn with stars that winked diamond bright and sang faint ice-cold snatches of song, of distant journeys and enchantments in other realms. The magic in the land nourished parts of her that had been crippled and half dead. She felt stronger, freer and wilder than she ever had before. She leaped high and reached up to tickle the edge of the moon, who laughed in delight.

She was in a field miles wide, with all the room in the world to stretch her legs. Distant trees shadowed the edges. A tall dark man with raven hair and gold raptor’s eyes stood in the trees and watched her.

She didn’t care. He couldn’t catch her. Nothing could, not even the wind, unless she let it.

Pia.

She knew that voice. She loved that voice. She turned and saw her mother running toward her. In her true shape, her mother had an incomparable loveliness and shone brighter than the moon who bowed down before her.

Mom? She slowed and turned. She felt like a little girl again. Mommy?

They came together. She threw eager arms around her mother, who nuzzled her. My sweet baby girl.

I miss you so much, Pia told her. Please come home.

Her mother drew back and looked at her with great, liquid eyes. I cannot. I have faded from your world. I no longer belong there.

Then let me come with you , she pleaded. Take me to wherever you are .

A roar of denial shook the trees. It ran through the earth, which trembled at their feet. Pia looked back at the male, although her mother remained untouched by the disturbance and seemed unaware of the figure in the trees.

You cannot join me, darling. Your place is among the living. Exquisite eyes smiled at Pia. Giving birth to you was the single most selfish thing I have ever done. Forgive me for leaving. I did not mean to abandon you.

Tears clogged her throat. I know you couldn’t help it.

I have come to warn you , said her mother. Pia, you must not be in this place. There is too much magic here. It is why I never dared to take you to an Other land.

She looked around. But I like it here. It feels so good.

You will be exposed here, and hunted. Go back. Starlight began to shine through her mother’s figure. Go back; blend in with humankind.

No, don’t go yet . Pia tried to reach for her.

But her mother had already faded, leaving a final message on the wind. Be safe. Know that you are loved.

She reached after her mother, almost grasping an answer to something important. She could almost make out where her mother had gone, could almost follow her, except the whispering wind curled around her and held her to the earth.

The whispering circled around her, stroked along delicate nerve endings, coaxing her, Pia, stay. That was not her true Name, but the Power behind the whispering was enough to make her hesitate. The wind became a dragon twining around her, brushing against her skin like a cat. Stay. Live.

She brushed her fingers along the hot skin of the beautiful, feral creature. It turned its head. Great molten, hypnotic eyes stared into hers and she was caught.

She woke up.

She was lying on the ground, wrapped in the Elven blanket, beside the glowing red coals of the dying campfire. Dragos crouched over her, hands cupping her head. He was whispering in a language she didn’t recognize, but it tugged at her bones.

“What is it?” she asked in a sleepy voice. She glanced down at herself. She was gleaming with a faint, pearl-like luminescence. She jolted full awake. “Goddammit, I lost hold of the dampening spell in that dream we had too. I’ve never lost control like that before. I can’t keep doing this!”

He took a deep breath. His body was clenched. A fine tremor ran through his heavy muscles. He was paler than she had ever seen him, eyes dilated and stark.

“What’s the matter?” she asked again. She laid a bright ivory hand against his cheek. “What happened?”

“I put you down,” he said. His blade-honed face was drawn. “I went to go wash at the stream. I wasn’t gone long . . . I was just twenty feet away.”

“It’s okay,” she said. “Whatever happened, it’s okay now.”

He was so upset, unlike anything she had seen from him. To date he had been calm, arrogant, infuriating, amused, angry, cautious, downright imperious. But this was like how he had been when she found him chained in the cell, only worse. It was hard to see such an indomitable male so shaken. She stroked his face.

He sank his fists into her hair as if to trap her more completely. “I turned around,” he gritted, “and I could see the fire through your body. You were transparent, Pia, and you were fading.”

“That’s impossible,” she said.

Or was it? Her mind raced back to her dream. If she had started to fade—could her mother have visited her in truth? Her lips pulled into a bittersweet smile.

“No smiling. This isn’t something to fucking smile about,” he snarled at her, his fists tightening. “You were almost gone. My hands passed right through you. If I hadn’t started calling you back, you would have disappeared for good.”

“Maybe, I guess, but I don’t think so,” she said in an absent tone, letting her fingers slide through his hair. She loved the inky black strands of silk. There wasn’t a kink or hint of curl in it. “I don’t think I could have gone where I tried to go. She said it wasn’t my place.”

“What are you talking about?” His eyes narrowed, but the tension in his body dialed down a notch.

“I dreamed about my mother.” Her gaze went unfocused and she said, “And I think it actually was her. When she left I tried to follow her.”

“You are never to do that again,” he said between his teeth. “Do you understand?”

“Dragos,” she said, speaking with care because he was still so upset. “You’ve got to stop giving me orders.”

No matter how gently she said it, it was still like a spark to dry tinder.

“Fuck you,” he snapped. He thrust his face down to hers, eyes flaring to lava and features hardening. “You’re mine . And you. Can’t. Leave.”

“Whoa, there. I don’t know what to say to you. You’re like some stalker guy on steroids.” She threw back her hands and rolled her eyes. “You are aware, aren’t you, that you can’t have slaves any longer. You know, abolition. Big war. Happened a hundred and forty, forty-five years ago.”

“Human history, human terms,” he snarled. “They mean nothing to me.”

She had already known she shouldn’t attribute human motives or emotions to him. Here was the reminder. The dragon was very close to the surface. The big body crouching over her was taut with menace. Every legend she had ever heard of a dragon’s possessive, territorial nature came to mind.