The Dragon Mate's Awakening (Dragongrove Book 3) Page 10

  “Shh,” she said, “it’s me, it’s Maggie.”

  The trembling worsened until her bare feet were dancing across the floor and her head was too much for her neck, propped on her own shoulder at an odd angle and shaking wildly.

  Margaret looked at Caelian helplessly. “I don’t know what to do, Caelian, I can’t move her when she’s like this.”

  “I can move her,” he said, ignoring the man whose throat was in his hand.

  “What about him?” she asked, glancing at Bradley. “You can’t restrain him and carry her.”

  Caelian shrugged. “Should I kill him?” he asked for the second time. He must have seen the look on Maggie’s face, though, because instead he released the man, tore open the closet door and shoved him inside. A moment later the massive wooden desk was in front of the door, blocking his exit.

  Maggie thanked him and kissed him quickly, and he gazed tenderly at her for a moment while his thumb brushed over her cheek. He turned his attention to her mother, then, and picked her up like a child, his grip gentle but firm as he held her shaking body to him.

  Maggie led them out of the room and through the lobby, the building empty after Caelian had ordered everyone out. She felt light, and as she turned her head to see her mate clutching her mother to him, so tenderly; her mother whom she’d been solely responsible for, for nearly a decade, she thought that her heart might burst. Relief washed over her as she realized for that for the first time since she’d been a small child, someone wanted to take care of her.

  They left the building into bright sunlight, blinding Maggie temporarily. She shaded her eyes with her hand and saw all of Bradley’s employees, as well as several passers-by, had formed a semicircle around them, watching them, but from a wary distance. Maggie glanced up at Caelian and saw what they did: huge, imposing, commanding, and with an inexplicable otherworldly presence. They didn’t know what he was, but they knew he wasn’t quite like them, even if only subconsciously.

  He strode back the way they’d came, from Juliette’s house, and walked straight toward the people gathered around. They scattered as he approached, power seeming to radiate off of him in waves, and a little thrilling shiver went through Maggie as she watched him. With her mother in his arms he walked right past the line of people, nobody daring to try to stop him, and Maggie quickened her pace to keep up with his long strides.

  Maggie heard her name called by a small voice, and turned to see Elisabeth, Juliette’s youngest sister, darting toward her from the crowd.

  “Maggie!” the child called again, and threw herself at Maggie. “I’m so glad you’re here, I knew you’d come back.”

  Maggie embraced her, then puled back and saw tears in the girl’s eyes. “What’s going on, Bethy?” she asked.

  Elisabeth clung to her, her back shaking in sobs. Her breathing slowed after a minute, and she looked up at Maggie miserably. “I’m getting married tomorrow morning. Juliette doesn’t know. I told Edward I would, I couldn’t let him kick out Scarlett and Eloise.”

  Maggie’s stomach churned. “We’ll help you, Beth. I’m not going to let that happen.”

  Maggie glanced at Caelian, who had stopped a few feet before them, and was watching Elisabeth with horror on his face. She caught his eye and shrugged helplessly, her arms wrapped around the girl, the onlookers in the street only a dozen feet away. Caelian looked conflicted for a moment, looking down in his arms at Maggie’s mother, then back at Elisabeth. The set of his jaw hardened, then, and he approached Maggie.

  “Can you take your mother for a minute?” he asked, kindly.

  Maggie nodded, and he gently deposited the woman on the ground to lean against Maggie, still trembling violently.

  He brushed his lips against Maggie’s forehead, and squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. “This isn’t going to happen,” he said, and Maggie could see his eyes blazing with anger. He turned his attention to Elisabeth. “You’re not getting married, and I promise that your sisters will be alright.”

  “What are we going to do?” asked Maggie nervously.

  “I’m going to shift,” he said, “and we’re going to Juliette’s house. You both climb on my back, I’ll carry your mother in my claws.”

  “Claws?” Beth asked in a tiny voice, her eyes wide.

  “Don’t be frightened, please,” he said, then turned and strode a short distance away from them, away from the crowd. A moment later a massive, steel blue dragon was before them. Maggie noticed that her mother had stopped shaking, but her eyes were wide and transfixed on Caelian. Elisabeth clung to Maggie’s arm, trembling. He was breathtaking, magnificent, wondrous.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Maggie held Elisabeth tightly, perched on Caelian’s back, as they soared just above the rooftops toward Juliette’s house. She ignored the fact that a tenth of the town had just seen a man turn into a dragon, ignored the fact that she didn’t know what could possibly be next, and focused on the fact that her mother was safe and that Caelian would take care of things.

  They arrived quickly, and after she helped Elisabeth down she practically hopped off of him and beat down the door, wanting to get inside as quickly as possible and figure out what the hell they were doing. To her surprise, an old, balding, fat man answered the door. Edward. She’d never actually seen him before, he’d never been home during the day, but news must have traveled quickly that Maggie was back and up to no good.

  “Get out,” she ordered.

  He sputtered at that, his chest puffing up and his face turning red. “This is my home, you don’t presume to tell me what—”

  He was interrupted by a deafening roar from behind her, reverberating from the houses all around them, and Edward’s eyes widened and jaw went slack.

  “Get out,” Maggie ordered again, and this time he complied, sprinting past her, past Caelian, and down the street.

  Elisabeth laughed at that and disappeared into the house, and a second later Caelian was behind Maggie, very human and very nude, cradling her mother.

  She gestured for him to enter, trying to ignore her silly embarrassment but her face burning all the same. She could hear Elisabeth in the next room, loudly telling her sisters about what they’d just done. Juliette came around the corner quickly, took in the sight before her, then disappeared up the stairs for a moment before reappearing and shoving something at Caelian.

  “You’re very pretty, but please put these on,” she said, cheeks pink.

  An hour later they were as secure as they could be. The windows had been boarded over, with Juliette delightedly pointing out Edward’s favorite pieces of furniture to use as lumber. The doors had been barred shut, and shortly after dark Caelian had slipped out alone to post three letters he’d written hastily, hoping that help would come quickly. Maggie’s mother was resting in bed, the sisters were all talking animatedly in the kitchen and cooking something that smelled decidedly burned, and Maggie had collapsed on a couch in the next room, pleased when Caelian had joined her there. He was sweet, lovely, the most handsome thing she’d ever seen, even with Edward’s pants cinched around his waist, the hem up around the middle of his calves. He’d laughed at the sight when he pulled them on, seeming to enjoy them, promising to wear them as often as he could.

  His arm was around her, his fingers stroking gently along her arm, and the heat from him and the events of the day made her eyes droop as she leaned into him, enveloped by his scent. She felt a soft kiss against her temple, and she reached to clasp his free hand, pressing it to her cheek. She looked up at him, his beautiful face cast in shadows, his gaze on her peaceful and loving.

  “Thank you,” she said quietly, and meant it. “This genuinely couldn’t have happened without you.”

  He smiled slightly. “Oh, you mean needing to barricade ourselves in a house and hoping for help from my brothers? I can’t imagine anyone else could have done as well as I did in that regard.”

  She giggled. “I mean returning my mother to me. Saving Elisabeth from marriage.
Helping to rescue Juliette from her situation. None of it would have happened without you.”

  He bent to press his face into her neck, inhaling deeply and causing goosebumps to spread down her chest. “Not without you, either,” he murmured there.

  Eloise popped in to announce that dinner was served, her long auburn hair tied at her neck but swinging prettily behind her. Caelian rose from his seat and helped Maggie up, and they followed behind the teenager, Maggie discreetly wrinkling her nose at the smell so that only he could see.

  Maggie ate quickly, and then left Caelian and the sisters behind to bring a dish to her mother. She patiently spoon fed her, cutting it into tiny pieces, noting that her mother seemed more able to chew a small bit than she had the last time she’d fed her. She helped her to drink and it spilled everywhere, so Maggie mopped up the mess, helped her into a spare nightgown, and set to work washing her face and combing her tangles. She was in her usual position as she worked, seated on the bed with her mother’s head in her lap, and the repetitive motion calmed her, gave her something to focus on other than their current predicament: how to safely get six people and one dragon out of town, with one woman blind and one catatonic. She hoped that Caelian’s letters would find their intended recipients.

  As she combed gently through a particularly bad section of hair she glanced up at the doorway, and found Caelian there, watching her intently. She motioned for him to come in, so he pulled a chair up next to the bed and seated himself there.

  “How is she?” he asked.

  “The same,” Maggie said, adding bitterly, “as always.”

  “I don’t want to get your hopes up, Maggie,” he said carefully, slowly, “but my brother Helias may be able to help her.”

  “The king?” she asked.

  He nodded. “He has a kind of… affinity with nature. With it’s essence. He’s had success with healing before.”

  Maggie’s heart pounded as he spoke. “He can fix her?” she asked, sitting up straighter.

  “I don’t know. He can tell us what he thinks, I’m sure he can try.”

  She wasn’t sure if it was the news or the exhaustion in her bones or the love for Caelian she felt that caused her to burst into tears, but whatever it was overtook her with great emotion, wrenching sobs from deep in her gut. He watched her helplessly, and reached a hand across the space between them to take hers. She squeezed it tight and pressed it to her cheek, then kissed his knuckles as she cried with her mother on her lap and her mate comforting her.

  .....

  Caelian glanced up at Maggie from his place on the floor, where she was shifting uncomfortably on the couch she’d settled on. Frustration was plain on her face, but when she noticed his eyes on her she smiled slightly at him.

  “I can’t sleep,” she said, sitting up and patting the seat next to her. “There’s just too much.”

  “I know,” he murmured, rising to join her, then running his fingers softly along her spine. “But you really need to.”

  “I’m afraid,” she admitted finally. “I don’t want them to get in. I don’t want anyone to get in.”

  “The doors are bolted and barred. The windows are covered. If they try anything I’ll shift and get rid of them. You have nothing to fear, Maggie.”

  Maggie drummed her fingers on her leg and avoided Caelian’s gaze. “I’m used to locks being used to keep the danger in with me.”

  He ran his hand down his face, frustration and anger roiling in his gut. He pushed the feelings away and locked his arms around her, holding her securely to him. He cradled her head against his chest gently, afraid she would break or flee. Her wild hair tickled under his chin, her intoxicating scent clinging to every strand. Her small fingers dug into his arm, clinging to him, clutching at him as if she were afraid he would leave.

  “Come upstairs with me,” he murmured quietly.

  She nodded and they tiptoed up the stairs together, and when she turned to meet his gaze he could see the heated promise in hers.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Maggie’s hands and wrists were freckled, but the rest of her was creamy and white. It was the first time he’d seen her naked in a lit room. He savored the sight. She lay bare before him, her yellow curls strewn wildly across the pillow, her chest rising rapidly with each breath, her honey eyes burning for him under her dark lashes. He touched her, slowly, brushed his fingers from the bottom of her breast down to the swell of her hip. She inhaled sharply at the contact, but her warm eyes didn’t leave his and her nipples hardened as he watched.

  Caelian ached with need. He longed to grasp her soft hips and plunge into her silky depths, thrusting into her until she was full of his seed.

  He rested his palm over her stomach. She was warm and lush and inviting, and she gazed at him wordlessly, her rapidly beating heart the only indicator that she wanted this as much as he did. He moved his hand up to trace the soft skin under her breast, running his fingers lightly across it, then letting them come to rest just barely grazing her nipple.

  He began to trace along the outside, watching it harden more under his touch. His thumb brushed over, once, then again, and her tiny moan made his already hard cock stiffen further. She reached up to thread her fingers through his hair, and a moment later she was gently guiding his mouth to her breast. He kissed and licked, nibbled and sucked, listening her breathing becoming ragged and savoring the desperate pull of her fingers at the back of his head.

  He raised his head and grinned impishly at her, and she just stared at him with wonder in her eyes. He turned his attention to her other breast, nibbling and sucking there, kissing every inch of the pale skin that covered it. Her hands stayed in his hair as he continued his ministrations, and before long he realized that she was writhing under him, her hips thrusting with abandon.

  He skimmed his fingers down her front, from her breasts past her stomach, and coming to rest just above her mound. He explored her folds, his fingers running along the slippery length of her, from her clit and down past her entrance. He moved up once again to circle around her tiny bundle of nerves, as she moaned continually and jerked her hips to get more. He concentrated his attention there, swirling his finger, rubbing his thumb.

  “Please,” she said suddenly, her face red and her breathing heavy. He continued with his fingers on her clit, while his other hand explored her entrance briefly before plunging a finger inside. She was delectably tight and warm, and his control was breaking from her sounds and her scent and her pulsing pussy surrounding her finger. He added a second finger and pumped them both into her, his thumb strumming her clit. When his mouth closed around her nipple and sucked, she came. She clenched and quivered around his fingers and in his arms, her head thrown back and her eyes shut, her mouth forming nonsensical words that eventually culminated in his name.

  She was wet, so wet that it clung to his fingers, and before he could help himself he was licking them clean. Delicious. She was delicious, and before he knew what he was doing he moved down her, inhaled deeply between her legs, and licked her from entrance to clit. She gasped, still recovering from her orgasm, but all he could focus on was her divine scent around him, her milky thighs surrounding him. His tongue swirled and stroked and licked and sucked, and suddenly her hands were pulling at his hair, so he stopped quickly and looked at her face, not wanting to push her. Her dazed expression became one of confusion.

  “Oh,” she breathed, nodding vehemently, “I didn’t mean stop.”

  He grinned at her and returned his attention to her clit. She pressed herself into his face even as she locked his head in place with her hands and thighs, and he thought that he could stay there forever. When her movements became desperate, needing more, he replaced his tongue with his thumb and licked down, down, and then plunged his tongue inside of her. She gasped at the sensation as he swirled and stroked his tongue along her walls, his thumb rubbing insistently on her and his other arm locked across her stomach, holding her tightly in place. This time when she came she
did it on his tongue, clenching and shaking on his face, and as she came down the tight grip of her thighs released him as they collapsed on the bed. She was splayed open before him.

  Caelian moved up the bed to collect her in his arms. She turned to him, a sleepy smile on her face, and kissed him tenderly. She pulled his face to hers as she did, pressing her small body into his naked chest. His cock throbbed painfully, needing her, and when she reached to wrap her slender fingers around him he had to fight to keep from thrusting against her. He deepened the kiss, his tongue tangling hungrily with hers.

  He laid on his side, facing her, as she pulled him toward her slick entrance and greedily rubbed his head against her clit, writhing on him, the heat from her radiating outward. She slid her clit up and down his length as he longed to push inside of her at last, but unable to stop staring at her as she used him to build toward her release. She pushed his shoulder down, suddenly and insistently, and when he was flat on his back she climbed on top of him. She pulled him to her entrance and then sank down on him, inch by inch, tortuously, deliciously slowly.