Burned (Drake Security #5)

Chapter 7

Chapter

Seven

LORD

I wasn’t sure Alrick and I would be able to make it off the compound without any of my brothers or their mates spotting us, but luck must be on our side. The anxious knots in my stomach loosen as I board the Drake jet, giving the flight crew—consisting primarily of shifters and witches—a polite smile in greeting. Alrick is right behind me with the bag of extra clothes I threw together in a hurry flung over his shoulder.

His long hair is tied back now, giving me an even better view of his boxy jaw and broad shoulders. I’ve never seen such a thick neck in my life, not even on a gargoyle. It’s impossible not to imagine what he would look like with his head thrown back, his lips parted on a moan and his face contorted with pleasure as I drag my scorching tongue over his Adam’s apple. My cock twitches and my dragon lurches eagerly. Alrick’s skin flushes and his breathing picks up as he rubs a circle over the center of his chest.

I know I need to rein in these horny thoughts. They’re wrong on so many levels and all I’m doing is torturing myself with fantasies that can never come true. But knowing every filthy, lustful thought that makes my body burn is heating his blood and hardening his cock too is making it that much more difficult to stop myself.

Alrick whistles as he looks around the small plane, tossing his bag onto an empty seat.

“This is pretty fancy. It must have cost a fortune.” His eyes cut to me sharply. He’s hoping if he asks enough pointed questions, I’ll confess to being a dragon. The Viking doesn’t know who he’s playing with. I may not be as cunning as my brothers or as practiced at deceit, but I perfected my bluffing and my poker face before the game was even invented.

I hum thoughtfully, claiming my usual seat and picking an imaginary piece of lint off my shirt. “My brothers and I own a lucrative security business. The plane was a business expense.”

He narrows his eyes suspiciously but drops the subject.

Speaking of my brothers, however…

Now that I’ve successfully spirited my accidental mate away from their prying eyes, I do need to let them know that I’ll be away for at least a few days. I slide my phone out of my pocket while Alrick takes the seat next to me. Curious. There are a dozen seats, and he could have chosen any of them. Maybe he’s paranoid enough that he’s convinced himself I’m planning to stage a plane crash, and he figures if he sits close enough he’ll be able to catch a ride on my dragon when I shift to fly away.

I open the group chat we all share. There are dozens of messages since the last time I bothered to check it, most of them speculation about what the hell is wrong with me.

HEMINGWAY: Maybe he found his mate?

ARSON: That really doesn’t explain the stench of blood or why he’s being so cagey about everything.

MONTROSE: Unless he really did decide to turn his mate into a snack. *chomp chomp*

LAKE: Speaking of being eaten by dragons, hot tip for the other mates… ask for the dragon tongue.

DRAYDON: I’m sorry, the what?? Ars… have you been holding out on me?

ARSON: Saving it for a special occasion, wolfie.

DEMPSEY: Lord might have an injured mate he’s trying to hide from us, is this really the best time to discuss sex tricks?

LAKE: If he has an injured mate he can just give them his fire and they’ll be fine, which leaves us with plenty of time to talk about sex baby, to talk about you and me…

DEMPSEY: Wait, WE’RE not having sex…

LAKE: *face palm * it’s a song, Demps.

It goes on like that over the course of days, talking about me like I’m not in the chat and won’t see the messages eventually. I can’t help the smile that twitches on my lips at the banter that derails each and every conversation. I’ve only been avoiding them for a week, but it feels like an eternity.

Alrick sighs heavily beside me.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m suddenly just really homesick. My brothers are a couple of pricks, but I miss them.” He presses his fist against his chest and lets out another long breath. After a second, his face hardens, and he sits up a little straighter.

It’s hard to watch this constant push/pull, seeing him slowly relax, realize he’s making himself vulnerable, then put his walls right back up as high as he can build them. I wish there was some way to convince him that I really don’t have any intention of harming him. That I couldn’t harm him even if I did want to. But I suppose the more I insist on it, the more suspicious it will seem, like I have a vested interest in getting him to let his guard down.

“I know the feeling.” I give him a small smile then return my attention to my phone.

I hate lying to my family, but I can’t exactly tell them the truth. And I have to tell them something . After a minute of staring at the message thread, I finally come up with an excuse I can live with.

LORD: Again, I haven’t eaten anyone. Listening to you lot, anyone would think I’M the Drake with control issues…

TINO: He lives! Dude, where have you been?

HEMINGWAY: You do have control issues, Lord.

I snort at Hem’s teasing and Tino’s enthusiasm, ultimately ignoring both, and type another message.

LORD: I can’t give many details, the situation is too delicate and too sensitive, but there is a human I’ve been nursing back to health. In order to resolve the situation, we’ve had to take a little trip. I’ll be away for at least a few days, maybe longer, but I didn’t want you to worry. I’m fine and I’ll be home when everything is settled.

There’s an instant flurry of responses that I don’t bother to look at. I close the chat and power down my phone.

“It’s going to be about seven hours until we land. If you want to get some rest, there’s a small bedroom at the back of the plane,” I offer.

Alrick shakes his head. “I’ve been asleep for days. The last thing I want right now is any more sleep.”

I chuckle. “Fair enough.”

We fall into silence for a moment, trading awkward smiles. I hadn’t accounted for having to find a way to entertain him for seven hours. My dragon offers up a litany of creative options to do just that, but I stomp down the fresh wave of heat that rushes through me and clear my throat.

“Would you like to watch a movie?”

A look of surprise crosses his face, and after a brief pause, he nods.

“I don’t get the chance to watch movies often,” he confesses in a low voice like he’s admitting to something truly scandalous.

My lips twitch with a grin. “Neither do I,” I admit. “If I’m not busy with the security business, I’m up to my sca—” I clear my throat again to cover my near slip. “— ears in trouble that my brothers have a knack for finding.”

He chuckles like he can relate, then settles more comfortably into his seat while I grab the remote so we can find something to watch. It’s not the way my dragon was just drooling to pass the time, but he purrs with contentment inside me anyway.

ALRICK

An hour into the movie and Lord is fast asleep, slumped over in his seat with his head resting on my shoulder. He lets out soft snores, each exhale accompanied by a hazy cloud of smoke from his parted lips. I’m staring ahead at the TV screen embedded in the back of the seat in front of me, but I’m not really paying attention to the action happening on the screen. I’m too busy puzzling over all the confusing contradictions between what I’ve been taught about dragons and what I’ve seen of Lord so far.

He’s supposed to be vicious and bloodthirsty. He’s supposed to be hell-bent on destruction and an uncontrollable threat to humanity. He’s not supposed to whimper and twitch in his sleep like a puppy.

The worst part is, I’ve been telling myself to jerk my shoulder and wake him up for at least twenty minutes, but for some impossible-to-understand reason, I don’t want to. No, what I want is to card my fingers through his hair to find out how soft it is.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

It has to be whatever magic he fed me, right? I rub my forehead, careful not to jostle the sleeping dragon, and huff a laugh at myself. If Digby were here, he would put a blade through Lord’s throat now while he slumbers. I might not have my sword, but even a dragon can’t live without its head, and I’m sure there’s something that could be used as a weapon. It wouldn’t matter to my brother that killing the dragon might mean having to fight off the staff on the plane, that I might even die doing so. It would be an honorable death, the kind of death I was destined for the moment I was born a Havaror, youngest son in a centuries-long line of dragon hunters.

My throat tightens and bile rises in my gut at the thought of it though. Lord has been nothing but kind to me so far. He saved my life. Maybe this is all a trick somehow, but I’m finding it harder and harder to mistrust him by the second.

This is dangerous. The whole situation is bound to end in disaster.

I risk another glance at the sleeping dragon, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the way his fingers twitch and curl as he dreams, and the unmistakable swell of arousal that his expensive trousers do nothing to hide. Heat churns in my gut and my cock twitches with interest.

I swallow hard and close my eyes, forcing myself to stop looking at him. We need to cancel out this magic as soon as possible, and then I need to get far, far away from this dragon.

Keeping my eyes closed, I focus my attention on listening to the movie rather than Lord’s breathing, and slowly I feel myself relaxing into sleep as well.

A violent lurch jolts me awake some time later. I blink and rub my eyes, finding Lord no longer using my shoulder as a pillow.

“Not to worry, it’s just the landing gear,” he assures me, patting my hand. His skin is scorching hot against mine, and I finally have the answer to one of the questions that plagued me yesterday—he feels soft and smooth just like a human.

I jerk my hand away from his instinctively and immediately feel bad for the apologetic smile he gives me.

“We’re here already?” I ask, my voice rough from sleep.

He nods. “I guess you were more tired than you realized.”

I chuckle hoarsely. “I guess so. Turns out being torn nearly in half and living to tell about it really takes it out of a guy.”

Lord laughs too, and somehow the sound feels like it vibrates inside my chest even though we’re not touching.

“So this… uh, witch?” I rub my jaw, realizing I didn’t ask a lot of questions about who we’re actually going to see.

“Xanthis,” he says. “She’s a mage…” He clears his throat. “Among other things.”

Other things . Does that mean she’s a dragon too? Am I walking right into an ambush? Even if I am, what other choice do I have? Trusting Lord is my only option right now. Fuck me, I hope it doesn’t come back to bite me in the ass.

The image of Lord sinking his teeth playfully into my bare ass cheek jolts through me hotly, and I give my head a hard shake to get rid of it.

“Xanthis,” I repeat, forcing myself to focus on what’s important right now. “Does she live in the city?”

“Not exactly.” Lord looks a little guilty, fidgeting in his seat and not looking at me. “She lives in a cave deep in the mountains in the north of Scotland, about two hundred miles from where we’ll be landing. At least, I think she does.”

“You think ?”

“Well, according to the text I was reading, that’s where she’s been residing for… some time now. But she’s not the most social creature, so it’s hard to say for sure.”

My mouth feels dry. It’s obvious he’s playing a lot of cards close to his chest, but that doesn’t make my options any less limited.

I nod and solidify my resolve.

“I’m feeling stronger by the minute. A good meal in me and I’ll be up for the journey.”

“Excellent,” he says softly. A sad smile flickers over his face.