Wildfire Witch (The Cursed Coven of Spells Hollow)

11. Rusty

RUSTY

When I dreamed of meeting my mate—as shifters often do, but rarely admit out loud—I expected to lock eyes with a regal female who’d be eager to mark me from the moment we met. She’d be a dragon, or a lioness, someone with claws to drag down my back when I claimed her for the first time after a tussle for dominance. One that I always won. Few forces in this world could move an earthen dragon and the woman I made my mate would be no exception.

But the dragon who represented my second form coveted fragile Nix , throwing my entire mission in jeopardy. I’d only just cleared first initiation and gotten the loyalty tattoo in its smallest setting on my upper arm. I’d fought an uphill battle to get the Fire Brotherhood recruiters to believe I wanted to join them. Earthen dragon shifters weren’t part of the alliance that’d first formed the gang. I was probably the first to appear willing to work for the Drakkon family.

My partner, Coda, had no such problem. He was a timber wolf shifter, a common species amongst the Fire Brotherhood. He slept in the cot next to mine in the barracks they stuffed all the recruits into. That evening, once everyone else was secure in dreamland, I tapped in rhythmic code what I intended to do next with one claw on the metal frame, earning a glance of disbelief from his sleepy wolf’s eyes in the dark.

“You can’t just leave me here,” he tapped back.

“Sorry. She’s my fated mate.”

“What about the mission?”

“The department will send someone else.” They had to. Fated mates were one thing the bureau couldn’t fault an agent for; it was written into the code and contract we all signed. The animal in every shifter forgot duty when it came to our perfect matches. I’d almost blown my cover the moment I had to leave Nix behind in that bare jail cell. It’d taken all of my self-control not to post myself as her personal guard and growl my claim to any other shifter who dared come near her.

Nix. Nix naked on a pile of riches. My dragon pictured it so clearly, even though we hadn’t seen the little witch without clothes yet…nor did we own anything close to that many gold coins. But I’d get them for her to lounge on. I salivated, my palm sinking beneath my plain bedsheets to stroke my cock.

Nix, submitting. A far more likely image. I rumbled low in my throat as I imagined her baring her neck to me, pinned under my weight. My scales were impervious to fire, so her magic would do nothing in a dominance match. She would bear the mark of my claim for all to see, and then…

“Rusty,” Coda hissed aloud.

My cock throbbed in my hold. My utter lack of shame would be a sign to him and any other shifter that this was real—Nix was mine .

“I’ll help. Tell me what to do,” Coda tapped.

I was in the midst of replying when an ill-tempered tiger shifter growled, “Quit that noise before I break your fingers.” There was a round of sleepy agreement from a few of the other men.

Glancing over at Coda with my green-brown dragon eyes on full display, I lifted my free hand in the sign for “later” and he nodded, flopping back onto his cot with a sigh.

I closed my eyes and willed my raging boner to cool. The dragon in me wanted to fantasize, but now was definitely not the time. I wiped away the mental image of Nix with my claiming bite placed prominently on her neck and pictured the reality of her.

The sweat and smoke scent clinging to her, along with the bitter tang of knockout drugs lingering over her neck. Scrapes up one side of her body, some kind of heat rash on her arm, and worst of all, that expression. Something like doubt mingling with a much stronger emotion, like hate, to turn her eyes into melted amber pools full of accusation.

My fated mate thought I was an enemy. That wilted me right up with shame. This wasn’t like a movie, where I could flash a badge and everything would be okay. I’d left her cold and alone in a jail cell like a good little fire brother. A potion for her injuries and a note with my true intentions were not enough to wave away her first awful impression of me.

I’ll have to make it up to her. On my knees. Between her legs.

I clenched my jaw, shutting out the mental image. My dragon was mostly instinct and sensation—two things it wanted to share with Nix badly.

I called upon self-restraint techniques I’d learned as a dragonling to keep from fantasizing about her again. I would save her tomorrow, once most of the gang left to assist that shit stain Benedict on some secretive mission for daddy dearest. Then Nix and I could get better acquainted. I’d get her, if not a bed of gold, a mountain of blankets and pillows to rest in to make up for tonight.

Maybe it’d be her hand wrapped around me by tomorrow evening. I certainly dreamed about it.

The next morning started brutally early, with a workout session. Say what you will about the Fire Brotherhood, but they had a fantastic group fitness program. Nearly as effective as the regimens in the army—except with three times the yelling. I let it fade into background noise, except when I challenged Coda to a sprint and told him in an undertone the part he needed to play for me today.

He was going to help shape the narrative for what happened and why Nix would suddenly disappear out from under Lance Drakkon’s nose. It’d help him maintain his cover. As far as the gang knew, we’d never met before joining up and had become close fire brothers after surviving first initiation. He could spin this as a great betrayal and swear revenge, but knowing Coda, he’d do it with the drama of a high school theater kid and lay it on way, way too thick. It’d be a performance I’d want to record so I could watch it over and over and laugh my ass off each time.

He picked up a fragment of the conversation when we were in line for breakfast afterward. “I know you’d do the same for me,” he muttered.

I nodded in agreement. “And no need for halfsies anymore,” I said vaguely.

We were going to split the bounty if our mission ended with the captures or deaths of the gang’s most wanted members. But since I was dipping out, it was only right that Coda would get the money instead. Maybe he’d get a bed of gold for his fated mate?—

I stifled a growl at the thought. My dragon did not like the thought of being outdone, even theoretically, by a wolf shifter.

“Big, growly man,” purred the last woman I wanted to cross paths with on my last day here. She sat next to me at the picnic-style table I’d settled at with Coda and a few of the fire brother recruits whose company I could stand.

Jaida was a lioness, built nearly as broad and tough as any man. It was the only way she’d gotten through first initiation and become one of the few females around. The scarcity of competition made her bold. She drew a clawed hand down my bicep and flashed a coy look out of the corners of her eyes.

My dragon could not have been less interested. Not mine . She had the wrong build and scent. Too eager and without the touch of cynicism Nix had displayed. I liked a woman with sharp fangs.

I’d flirted with Jaida for information and to make my job easier, but regretted every moment. She had a fated mate out there who would want her curves and strength. It just wasn’t me. “Paws off, Jaida,” I rumbled, shrugging off her touch.

“My my. Someone is grumpy today,” she said. Ignoring all signs that my second form was close to the surface, she leaned against my arm and reached to touch the middle of my shirt. “Maybe I have something you need?”

I pivoted and snarled at her, baring a mouthful of fangs and growing the protection of dark brown scales like armor over my arm and chest. She snatched away from me as if burned and released an involuntary whimper of submission to the dominance of my animal form. She followed this up with raised hackles. “The fuck is wrong with you, Rusty?”

“He’s acting like my brother did when he found his fated mate,” Coda commented.

Jaida flicked dismissively. “Just go,” I said to her, before she could start reasoning through Coda’s planted remark. We were the new blood in the compound, but knowledge of the phoenix witch’s capture would be spreading by now. I didn’t need her putting two and two together until after I was gone.

With a huff, Jaida grabbed her tray and sauntered away. I pretended to be bothered by it and shoved out of my chair five minutes later, taking my untouched breakfast with me. The other shifters at the table barely waited for me to be out of earshot before they turned to Coda to ask what was up with me today.

I carried the food straight to my fated mate, who sat in a corner of her cell, knees drawn to her chin. Shadows hollowed out the space under her eyes. “Oh, it’s you,” she said flatly.

My dragon surged, wanting to smother her. She shouldn’t ever have to take a tone like that with me—I was placed on her path in life to please her.

Calm. Down. She had to see the red tattoo peeking from the sleeve of my workout shirt.

“Brought you breakfast,” I said, sliding it through the slat in the door. I had had nothing to eat since we met yesterday. My dragon wouldn’t have it, not when she seemed so small and frail in that cell.

In reality, she was marked for death. Lance would’ve had a guard assigned to her and regular meals delivered if he intended for her to live. Things weren’t quite done with military precision around here, though. I doubted someone was watching the cameras to notice me taking up a post beside her cell. Most of the gang’s resources were being piled into vehicles and rolled out for the mission Benedict was leading.

Once they were gone, Lance would consider sending one of his lackeys to deliver Nix, and then he’d kill her. But that lackey would find an empty cell, if he was lucky. If he was unlucky, he’d find my fangs tearing out his throat if he arrived before I had the chance to sneak her out. I still had the key to her cell door and thorough knowledge of the compound’s weak points. I’d have her in an earthen dragon tunnel before Lance could sneeze.

I watched out of the corner of my eye as she scooted forward and started feeding herself the eggs and sausages the kitchen had cooked up. Her arm wasn’t swollen anymore and her scrapes were healed, I noted with a hint of satisfaction. The potion had done what she needed.

“Would it kill them to use some salt and pepper?” she muttered. It was too quiet for most ears, but my enhanced hearing picked it up without a problem.

“Food’s been shit the whole time I’ve been here,” I said in amusement. A protective growl laced my voice as I continued, “Eat it anyway. You need to keep up your strength.”

She rolled her eyes, but continued to eat. My dragon was pleased. We feed naked Nix a feast. I could practically feel my blood heading south as I pictured those plump pink lips sinking into real, good food. Like a barbecue rib, slathered in sauce, and I’d clean away any smeared on her skin with my tongue.

Fuck, this was out of hand. I burned with the need to claim and mark Nix as mine, but the situation couldn’t be more dire. I tried to think sobering thoughts and avoided watching her eat. I only turned when she skidded the tray away from her and popped the seal on the water bottle. “What’s the plan?” she asked in a low voice before gulping down half of it in one go.

My dragon watched her throat move in utter fascination. I shoved it to the back of my mind and considered. “Think you could take a cold shower in five minutes or less?” I asked.

“That’s exactly what I need right now.” Her sarcastic response confused me a little, but I figured no one wanted to take a cold shower. The cells had a single shower that was little more than a punishment box. The stink of an unwashed shifter body was an offensive weapon to those with an animal’s sense of smell, though, necessitating its existence to spray down long-term residents.

I reached into my shorts, where I’d kept the key to her cell. I unlocked it and held my hand out for her. “C’mon.” She hesitated, and I cracked a smile, gesturing for her to leave the cell.

“You’re not worried I’m going to set you on fire and run?” she asked.

My dragon leaped at the idea. My vision shifted to its sharpness as I wondered if she’d follow through on this hypothetical. “It’s not a good idea to run from a shifter,” I rumbled. “Especially one with flameproof scales.”

I grew brown scales over my hand to prove my point. Her gaze narrowed in on the little armor plates and her brows rose into her hairline. “You’re an earthen dragon.”

“Pure great wyrm,” I said, full of pride for my strong bloodline. Only the best for my mate.

She latched onto my hand before I could retract my scales. I reeled the dragon back in and she said, “No, keep them out.” Her skin was wickedly hot. No wonder she was still flushed, she was burning up with fever.

I looked her over with worry. “You’re sick.”

She shook her head. “It’s the curse. Don’t worry…just keep your scales out. And you promised me cold water,” she prompted.

I held her hand and walked her to the shower, growing my scales back for her. My dragon wanted her to admire their shine and color, but I summoned them up to my shoulder to cover the offending Fire Brotherhood tattoo. She latched her free hand to my bicep. I think she worked some kind of magic, conducting heat over my scales as she stroked down with the grain of them. I didn’t feel a thing. Her sigh was full of relief, though.

“No door?” she asked once I showed her to the shower.

“Only the worst for enemies of the brotherhood.” I gave a subtle wink, like we were both in on the same joke. Which we were. Her displeased expression didn’t change, though. “I’ll stand in the doorway. Back turned…unless you want me to watch.”

She reddened a shade. “No,” she deadpanned. “Back turned, fire bro.”

I dutifully took my place in the threshold, back turned to her and the stall. “Fire bro?” I echoed in amusement.

“A stupid name for a stupid organization,” she muttered. She wasn’t wrong . I’d call them fire bros too, in honor of her.

Her clothes plopped on the tile with excruciating clarity and the pipes made a labored rattling after she turned the knob. Water blasted down on her and the initial wave evaporated into humidity against my back with the sizzle of water hitting a hot pan.

She groaned. “Nix?” I asked in concern. It took every bit of my control not to sneak a glance at her.

“It’s fine. It’s…heavenly,” she practically moaned.

I clenched my fists, partially shifted claws scraping against the scales that’d settled over both my palms. She was tormenting the fuck out of my dragon and didn’t seem to realize it.

“Remember, five minutes,” I growled.

Do not picture water running over her body.

Do NOT imagine rivulets of water dripping between her thighs.

But…what about her boobs?

My dragon was to blame, I swear. I imagined her pert breasts instead, beads of cold water forming along the swells of them and running around the chilled puckers of her nipples. I’d lick them warm again, suckle them into my mouth until her shivers became trembles of pleasure?—

The water shut off. “No towel?” Nix asked.

I roused from my fantasy reluctantly. “No.”

She hummed around behind me for what felt like an eternity, but was probably less than thirty seconds before she put her clothes back on. “Oh, hello,” she said in surprise, returning to my side. Her skin was already dry and a healthier shade of pink, except for her cheeks, which flamed.

I lifted my chin in pride, shamelessly erect for her. The shorts hid next to nothing from her shocked glance. “Hello, mate. Done teasing me now?” I asked in a bass rumble.

Her tongue swept her lips and my draconic eyes followed the motion avidly. She regained her composure and looked up at me while simultaneously losing her focus on me, head tilted with a flash of an expression like she was having an entirely different conversation.

“I need to do something. But we’re not going any further than it right now,” she said to me.

I agreed readily. Anything she wanted, I’d give it to her. “All right.”

I hadn’t expected the delicate-boned witch to reach up and sling an arm around my neck, encouraging me to bend down. She planted a kiss on my lips. My blood heated to liquid lava in my veins and I delved into her mouth, tasting her smoky essence. I kissed her like I wanted to consume her and imprint her taste on my tongue forever.

Not only did my fated mate have figurative fangs, she was bold, guiding the heated tangle of our lips and pulling on a fistful of my shirt to keep me where she wanted. Like I would want to be anywhere else, unless it was inside of her…

She broke the kiss as abruptly as she’d started it, breathing harder. “Wow,” she whispered.

An odd sound rose from her chest, like the humming of something vibrating inside her ribcage. My possessive rumble hit the same frequency, droning on in harmony.

“Wow,” I agreed, riding out the instinctive pressure to fuck and claim her before we left. I still needed to build her a nest and give her a feast, then we could skip the whole fight for dominance part—I would clearly win, after all—and get straight to knowing one another in a tangle of limbs.

My imaginings were interrupted again, this time not by my rational side. I think all the bits of me that were human and sensible were melted into slag the moment Nix kissed me. No, the moment ended when a pair of shifter recruits rounded the corner of the hallway and spotted us.

I lifted my head, my growl becoming a dangerous warning. I knew these two morons, unfortunately, and they could barely tell their asses from their heads. How they survived first initiation was a mystery. One lifted his hand, jabbing a finger in accusation. “Get away from her!” he called, voice full of a lot more anger than he had any right to feel.

“What are you two doing here?” I demanded.

The second man grabbed the first’s arm, making the universal gesture for ‘let me handle this.’

“We’re, uh, here to take Nix to the boss. Just pass her to us and we’ll be on our way,” he said.

I pushed her behind me, scales rippling up to form iron plates over my body. These two chucklefucks picked the wrong time to attempt to separate a dragon from his treasure. I bared my fangs as my tail burst into existence and finished my half-shift. “Like fuck you are,” I rumbled, preparing to slaughter them both for daring to think they would deliver Nix to an execution.