The Wyvern King's Mate Read online

  He groaned as her taste exploded through him. Sunlight and honey, mixed with the tartness of the strawberries he’d been offered during his meeting with the council. He’d never had them before, but the Terran fruits had instantly become a favorite… much like the delicious little woman in his arms.

  Her hands stroked up his chest, sliding into his hair as she kissed him back, and he was done. His arms tightened possessively, and he pulled her closer against his tall, hard body. His wyvern moved within him, scales pressed against the inside of his skin. Ours, it rumbled in the back of his mind as a sense of possessiveness about the little female washed over him. Yes, he decided, it was right. He hadn’t realized it at first, the lack of her shift-scent confusing him, but as soon as he’d kissed her he’d known.

  She was his mate.

  “Uh-hum…”

  The sound of someone clearing their throat brought him back to the present. He eased back from the kiss, caressing his little siren’s lips with his once more before glancing up to find Darina looking at them, her arms folded.

  “I must congratulate you, Lady Darina.” He smiled, all irritation with the woman disappearing as though it had never been. “I thought this cross-clan initiative was a load of bull, but I think I might be in the market to change my mind…”

  She’d never been kissed that way… ever.

  Zahra struggled to catch her breath as he lifted his head, the blood rushing in her ears as he spoke to Darina. Hell, what was that? It had been as though every cell in her body had attuned to him the instant his lips had covered hers. For a second, she checked deep down to the connection with her dragon, curious as to what type of shifter he was… but her dragon was still dead to the world, so deeply asleep she couldn’t access any of its abilities.

  His big hand covered her lower back, stroking the skin revealed by the lattice back of her dress and playing havoc with all her senses. She looked up at him, studying his face. She’d never seen him before but he seemed to know Darina…

  “Honestly, I can’t thank you enough for finding my mate,” he was saying, and the words brought her back to the present with a thump.

  “Wait… what?” she gasped and pushed against his chest. His hold on her was firm, though, so it was like trying to shove a mountain. “Mate? Who said anything about mates? I was here to see the council about going to Earth…”

  She blinked, looking between the two as hope unfurled in her chest. Could this man, the one who kissed like a sex god, really be her mate? If he was, why hadn’t she felt it? Why hadn’t her dragon woken up as soon as she’d met him, as soon as he’d touched her… kissed her?

  He looked down at her and smiled, his lips quirking up at the corners. “Yes, sweetheart, you’re mine… my wyvern knew it immediately.”

  Oh. Shit.

  Her smile faded at the word “wyvern” and her heart sank. No wonder she’d never seen him. Wyverns and dragons didn’t mix. Ever. They weren’t enemies as such, more like cousin-species… but wyverns were older than dragon-kind, virtually prehistoric. Usually bigger, and armored, they were less… elegant than dragons. More like bulldogs than the pedigree breeds of the draconic world, backwoods cousins she and her kind never talked about and preferred to ignore the existence of.

  No wonder her dragon hadn’t woken up. There was no way she could be mated to a wyvern, no way in hell.

  “No, you can’t be my mate.” She looked for Darina in panic, but the other woman had already disappeared. Pushing at the big male’s chest, she tried to make him let her go. “It’s simply not possible. I would have felt it.”

  “Oh, you are…” His deep gravel was practically a purr, one that stroked all the nerve endings along her spine and made her shiver. He lowered his lips to brush against hers and she all but whimpered, a savage ache running through her body and settling deep in her pussy. Color flushed her cheeks as liquid heat slipped from her to dampen her panties. He smiled.

  “See? I can smell your need, my sweet. Your body knows me already, and it’ll know me a whole lot better before the night’s out.”

  She snorted, pushing at him again. “Not a chance, handsome. I wouldn’t be seen dead with a wyvern… bloody savage barbarians… so you might as well let me go right now.”

  Anger flashed in his eyes, his features tightening. Still handsome, they took on a feral, almost dangerous edge. She ignored the shiver of awareness and arousal that rolled through her and smiled as his hand slid from her back.

  “You know it makes sense—” She didn’t get any further, yelping as he simply bent down and threw her over his shoulder without so much as a grunt of effort, even given her curvy frame. “Hey! Put me down, this instant!” she demanded, beating at his broad back with her fists.

  He didn’t pay her any mind, striding through the corridors and out of the palace. She had a great view of his firm, tight ass in his leather pants but she wasn’t interested. Not when he was hauling her around in such a high-handed manner. Wriggling like a wildcat, she hissed and pushed at his back, trying to get him to drop her, but he growled. A big hand slapped her ass hard enough to sting and bring a gasp to her lips.

  “Behave,” he growled, the deep rumble making her wet despite her mental protestations that she couldn’t be attracted to a wyvern, like… ever. “Or I’ll make you. I can’t have you wriggling while we’re on the wing. I won’t risk you falling.”

  She opened her mouth to argue that they were going nowhere, flying nowhere, when she felt his shift energy wrap around them. It was so close to her own that she closed her eyes, tears forming in the backs of them at the much-missed feeling. Surely, if anything could rouse her dragon, it would be shift energy? She’d shift and then they’d show this bloody jumped-up dinosaur who was boss.

  The energy exploded around them, and his form changed beneath her, jostling her. She cried out again as she slipped and slid, coming to rest between his now massive and scaled shoulders. Her eyes widened as she sat up, her skirts wrapped around her ankles, and then widened further as he spread his wings. She’d thought her brother, Talon, was big in his dragon form, but this man was massive… gigantic.

  He started to run and she clung to the dual ridges of scales that ran down either side of his spine, creating a hollow for her to shelter in as the wind whipped around them. Three strides and he took off, gargantuan wings beating the air and taking them high into the sky far faster than she’d ever been able to in her dragon form.

  Alright back there? His voice sounded in her mind, different to the feeling she got from others of her species but similar enough that she could understand him. Another shiver stole down her spine. His mental voice was even more potent than his human one, a deep gravel that hit her on a very primal level.

  “No! Put me down, asshole!” she yelled back, refusing to communicate with him telepathically.

  She received a chuckle in reply, his big chest and back moving as he laughed. With a squeak, she clung to his ridge scales for all she was worth, expecting to be jostled from his back and fall, but the little hollow protected her. Had he been a dragon, he’d have carried her in the safety of his claws but wyverns didn’t have front legs when shifted, just back legs used for taking off and landing and massive wings tipped with the lethal claws they used to fight among themselves and pretty much anyone else who came within spitting distance.

  Not a chance, my sweet. We’re going home where I can make you all mine.

  “Not gonna happen,” she grumbled back at him, sticking to speech. If she spoke to him mentally, he might figure out she was dragon-born. The enmity between their species ran so deeply she wasn’t sure even him thinking she was his mate would save her. “You can’t keep me prisoner.”

  Sure I can, he replied, nonplussed. Where we’re going you’d need wings to leave, my sweet, and even if what’s in your blood has wings, you can’t shift. Can you?

  Chapter 3

  She hadn’t replied to him after his crack about her not being able to shift, so Roc left her t
o her musings as they steadily flew north. The journey was at least half a day’s travel, even for him with his wing size, and he wasn’t as high as he’d have liked. Not with a passenger on board, and such a delicate little one at that. He didn’t want her to freeze at the higher altitudes, so he made sure to keep low, using the heat of his inner fire to warm the scales along his spine when he felt her small shivers.

  She felt so good nestled there, he mused, concentrating on the feeling as his wings pumped strongly to take them home. She was so tiny and curvy curled up against him that he ached to feel her against him again when he was a man. But having her touch his scales in her slumber was almost as good. She’d started off curled into a tight ball, her hand tucked between two of his ridge scales in a death grip, but she’d slowly relaxed as he’d amped up the heat and had eventually fallen asleep not long ago.

  Her hand had slipped from between the ridges to lie flat against the more sensitive scales over his back, her body unfurling like a flower in the sun until she lay along his spine, fast asleep. He felt her even breathing, the soft little murmurs she made every now and then making him long to be back home already, lying in bed with her in his arms.

  His beautiful little mate.

  A rumble of contentment and happiness escaped his chest as they reached the edges of the mountain range the wyverns called home. He beat his wings, climbing higher to reach his eyrie at the top of the tallest peak. Banking at the last minute, he swung into the wide mouth of the cave, his back claws touching down at the same instant he started to fold his beast back within himself. Twisting carefully mid-shift, he managed to get the curvy form of his sleeping mate into his arms as he strode toward his bedroom.

  His lips curved into a soft smile as she nestled closer to him, her palm against his chest like it had been against the scales of his back. Trusting and soft… when she was asleep… but he knew she’d be pissed as all hell when she woke. A right little fire-cracker with a sharp tongue and a sharper temper.

  He laid her down on his bed carefully, taking a moment to spread her fiery red hair around her head like a halo, and indulged himself in just looking at her. She was beautiful. Small for any species, she barely came up to his shoulder. Her frame was so delicately boned he felt like a brute just thinking about touching her. Like his big hands were too clumsy to be worthy of the honor. But somehow, she was his. His mate. His to touch, his to caress… his body tightened, cock hard and heavy in an instant… his to bring to pleasure, loving her until she cried out his name in ecstasy.

  Reaching forward, he stroked a gentle finger down her cheek, noting the soft pout of her lips at his touch. Even in sleep, she was aware of him. Good. That would make it much easier to get her over her snit at being taken, brought up here and held captive in the age-old tradition of his kind.

  There were no female wyverns, hadn’t been for generations. They always took their women from the clans around them to breed with, often returning them with child. Not many stayed—only those with a mate-bond, and sometimes not even then. Even the mate-bond couldn’t stand against a deep-rooted personal hatred.

  At least she wasn’t a dragon. He curled a strand of her vibrant hair around his finger, delighting in the silkiness of it. She had purple eyes… a deep and mysterious violet that mesmerized him. They drew him in and made him want to learn more about her. Like who she was… shit. His eyes widened as he realized he didn’t even know her damn name…

  Smooth move, Roc, he admonished himself and shook his head at his own stupidity. He’d kidnapped her and carried her off, and he hadn’t even stopped to ask what she was called.

  Sighing, he pulled the heavy furs up around her to keep her warm. Without the inner fires of a wyvern, she would chill easily. He swept a gaze around his bedroom. Carved from the rock with his own claws, it was more cave than room with crude wooden furniture constructed of planks of wood lashed or nailed together.

  He would get better things, he decided instantly, wincing as he saw it as she might. She was so pretty and delicate… she deserved nice things. Beautiful things, just like she was. But first, a fire. The furs would only keep her warm for so long and he wanted the room free of cold and damp before she woke.

  I could keep her warm, the little voice in the back of his mind tempted, but he ignored it. Sure, he could slide in next to her and use his body heat to warm her and the bed through—wyverns ran the hottest of all the shifters, a necessity when they preferred to seek out icy wastes and remote mountain ranges—but he wouldn’t. She’d been pissed about him taking her, so finding him in bed next to her while she slept? Yeah, dick move. Real dick move.

  Checking that the furs were tucked up nice and snug around her, he forced himself to stand up and, with one last look at his precious little mate, he left to gather supplies.

  The fucking wyvern had kidnapped her and taken her gods-knew where.

  Zahra stood on the edge of the cave mouth, looking down at the sheer drop below. Dragon-born, she had no fear of heights, but even so, they were a long way up. Well above the snow line given the white-covered peaks below her.

  A chill wind whipped up from below to send a flurry of flakes billowing around her. She shivered, burrowing into the fur blanket she’d pulled off the bed to wrap around her shoulders. It was so fucking cold she was surprised anything could survive. Even a dragon, a creature born of fire, would struggle with the extreme temperature. Without the ability to call her dragon’s fire to warm herself, she was no better than a human up here.

  A shape formed in the snow-heavy sky above her, and she squinted as the big form of a wyvern emerged. Her eyes narrowed and she studied him as he flew toward her. He was huge, built like the draconic equivalent of a tank with a big, wedge-shaped head, massive chest and shoulders and long, whip-like tail. Every inch of him was covered in heavy, armored scales and his wing tips and feet were tipped with vicious looking talons designed to rend and tear his prey.

  Another shiver shook her as he spotted her and opened his mouth to reveal teeth just as vicious as the claws. The scales over his chest and throat glowed with his fire and for a moment she thought that was it, he’d already gotten fed up with her and decided to toast her to a crisp. Wyverns were famous for their tempers and not known for mental stability.

  But she refused to take a step back or, worse, flee and show him just how scared she was. Instead, she lifted her head and looked at him in unspoken challenge. If he was going to roast her alive, he’d have to look her in the eye as he did it. At least with her dragon asleep and offering no protection it would be a quicker way to die than wasting away.

  But he didn’t roast her. Instead, he opened his mouth and a gout of flame hit the rocks by her feet, driving her back from the perilous edge. Covering her head with her arm, she backed up until she hit the rock wall before it turned into the cavern proper.

  Coughing and blinking because of the smoke, she opened her eyes just in time to catch the end of his shift. He strode toward her, his face tight with anger.

  “What the fuck did you think you were doing?” he snarled, slamming a hand into the rock by her head, crowding her with his bigger body. “Do you have any idea how dangerous that edge is? It could have given way at any moment and you’d have fallen. To your death. Don’t you realize how far up we are?”

  Her temper flared to match her fiery hair and she shoved a hand into his broad chest, trying to get some space between them. It didn’t help that heat of a very carnal type had spread through her as soon as she’d seen him stalking toward her. Anger and arousal fought for control within her. Damn her dragon instincts… the need and desire to find a worthy mate had obviously addled her in the head, making her susceptible to an arrogant, domineering asshole like this.

  “Too fucking far up,” she snapped back. “What are you trying to do, freeze me to death? Take me home,” she demanded. “Now!”

  Were she at home, such a display of anger would have sent lesser dragons scuttling for cover, but he just looked at her. Th
en grinned.

  “You’re cute when you’re mad.”

  “Asshole wyvern!” she hissed, pushing at him again.

  His humor disappeared at her words and he stopped her struggles with the weight of his body pinning hers to the wall.

  “I was playing nice,” he said, the deep gravel of his voice teasing along her senses as he spoke by her ear. “I’d advise you to let me. You won’t like the alternative.”

  She’d frozen, her hands splayed over his broad chest in a futile attempt to try and control the situation. It hadn’t worked. He’d come out of the shift shirtless, his pants obviously spelled against the change, and as soon as her fingertips had brushed his skin, she’d been lost. Arousal overtook her anger as everything feminine in her sat up and took notice. She closed her eyes, trying to ignore the reaction, but he must have sensed it, pulling back to look down at her.

  Strong fingers hooked under her chin and made her look up. But she wouldn’t meet his eyes, knowing what he’d read there and choosing to keep them down instead.

  “You can hide all you like, my sweet,” he murmured, amusement in his voice. “But I can smell your need… your arousal.”

  “You’re hot.” She shrugged one shoulder. “So what? Means nothing.”

  He tilted her head up a little more. “Oh, I think you’ll find it means everything,” he murmured back and claimed her lips again.

  Rather than the rough, dominant kiss she’d expected, his lips whispered over hers. Forward and back, gentle as though he were concentrating on learning the shape and texture of her mouth. It was so unexpected that it stole under her defenses again and before she knew it, she found herself leaning into him, breathlessly kissing him back.