Authors: Ronin Winters
Chapter Two
“You could at least bring some coffee for the rest of us.”
“You’ve me confused with someone nice.” Mica sat in the middle of the large leather couch, his big body obliterating over a third of the available space of the spacious sofa. The tempting smell of roasted turkey wafted from the bag, along with hints of whatever surprise Sophie had for him today. Something spicy, something mouthwatering, perfectly made and would melt on his tongue when he finally tasted it.
The same as Sophie would be, when he finally got past those blushing looks and had her spread out before him, that plump little body his to do with what he wanted.
And fuck, he wanted
everything
.
Mica’s head hit the back of the couch and Granite, the asshole, snickered above him. “Still having mate problems?”
“It was a mistake to get drunk with you.”
Granite gave a superior smirk as he pointed to his face. “You’re the one that let this Hollywood Idol visage fool you into thinking I was a lightweight. That loss was on you, my friend. Besides,” Granite continued as he threw himself on the couch and made a thwarted grab for the food bag, “It was a sympathetic question. All of us could inspire storylines on a telenovela with our mate issues.”
It was said so glibly that if he hadn’t heard Granite’s story during the drink-a-thon, Mica would have pushed the words away. Instead, they were a reminder that Mica’s problems came down to him being a coward, the knot in his stomach whenever he imagined Sophie rejecting him after hearing the truth of what he was making him hesitant to talk to her.
Granite’s mate was raped and turned into a werewolf against her will and now wanted nothing to do with the supernatural world, while Obsidian had his mate stolen from him when he was six and had spent over twenty years searching with still with no luck finding her.
Yeah, Mica needed to shut the fuck up and grow a spine and some balls.
He could’ve started with pulling his mate over the counter and showing her how damn turned-on she made him when that old bitch started in on her. Sophie closed in on herself as soon as the woman began speaking, and he’d been closer to punching an old woman then he would’ve ever believed possible. Sophie wouldn’t look at him after that, and he’d been left helpless before a few words and his own cowardice in not acting, not showing her that to him, there was
no one
fucking sexier on the planet, no one who could get his dick harder or could get him gunning faster.
His mate was sweet and seductive, was smart and determined, and by being a dumbass he’d already wasted a whole month he could’ve had her riding his dick and moaning his name in that breathy voice of hers.
How could she not know how she affected him? He was an idiot around her, tongue-tied and stupid. It felt like all he did was make moon eyes at her, and that assistant of hers smirked at him whenever he entered the shop.
She
knew what was going on, but Sophie? Somehow not a clue.
Not a clue how those peasant blouses and long skirts highlighted those gorgeous breasts and generous curves which left him damn near slobbering. That long, dark, curly hair…
fuck
, it was made for him to sink his fingers into, to use it to pull her head back as he thrust into her from behind, making her ass jiggle as those thighs cushioned him while he was buried inside her. Or he’d use it to guide her head as she blew him, sinking his cock down her throat and fucking her face, those gorgeous green eyes of hers locked on his while he came and she swallowed down every drop.
“Mica, you look like you need a minute.” Obsidian’s voice broke through the tumbling fantasies, and Mica groaned, bashing his head against the back of the couch a few times. “He still having mate issues?”
“Yep,” Granite answered, and the bastard sounded far too cheerful. “Little Miss Sophie is still pure and untouched, and I think it’s beginning to get to him.”
“If you need advice on what to do, I can give some pointers, purely to make sure your mate enjoys herself.”
Mica gave Obsidian the finger – never mind that the man was Clan Leader, he was still an asshole – and said, “Sophie will have no complaints.”
“Well, we won’t know that until you actually claim her, will we?”
He’d been lifelong friends with Granite and Obsidian, and he knew they were happy that he’d found his mate, but there was no denying the two got off on giving him a hard time over it, shit-eating grins large on their faces and eyes not even restraining their mirth.
Obsidian moved to sit in the chair adjacent to the couch and once seated, his face became serious, his whole demeanor switching over from childhood friend to Clan Leader of the Dragon Horde, who was now speaking to the Wing and Right Claw of the Clan. “Bas sent me his report.”
Those words were probably the only thing that could make thoughts of Sophie disappear from Mica’s mind. “What’d he find?”
“He’s positive Jacobson is working with either some rogue dragons or possibly even a Clan, though he has no leads on who yet. Beyond that, Jacobson shows signs of other sources of power and magic. But Jacobson is a smart and paranoid bastard, and right now details are scarce. Bas says to keep our eyes open and ears to the ground.”
Granite went from his usual jovial expression to pure lethal weapon with every word. Jacobson was a rogue wolf who they originally thought was nothing more than mere nuisance until recently, when they discovered he was in the center of a lot of black market shit, including drugs, black magic, weapons, and sexual slavery, including turning women into werewolves and selling them to various factions, both wolves who were deep in hiding and had little chance of finding their own mates, as well as humans and other races who wanted their own werewolf plaything.
Granite’s mate happened to be one of those women, and it was only a lucky strike against Jacobson that freed her.
In short, Jacobson and everyone around him needed to die. Steel, the alpha of the nearby wolf pack, was on board with that plan. It was just a matter of figuring out how to make it happen.
Speaking of the wolves… “Does Steel have anything to add?”
Obsidian shook his head in partial answer. “He’s looking, and he’ll contact us the moment he knows anything.”
So they were still blind, with only enough knowledge to know they needed to be sharp and they needed to be scared in the right way. Jacobson was not one to underestimate. That had been their blunder in the beginning, waving off reports of a rogue alpha and not interfering in werewolf affairs.
Granite’s black eyes were glowing, his dragon close to the surface, and Mica clamped down on the dragon’s shoulder to get his attention. Of course this shit affected him most. He wanted revenge for his mate, but he needed to keep it together. “Granite, you going to be able to handle this?”
Granite’s body was as hard as his namesake, and he shook off Mica’s hand. “I am the Claw.” It was stated simply, and that was that. Mica nodded, crossing his arms over his chest and turning back to Obsidian.
They were all silent a few moments to let the simmering tension abate, and then Obsidian breathed deep, let out a long sigh. “We’ll get him, but we need to have the Clan on a war footing. There might be a problem with that, though.”
Obsidian sounded odd, introspective and unsure, which was unusual for their leader. Mica glanced at Granite, who was wearing the same curious expression as he knew what was on his own face. This was new to both of them.
“It’s too soon to know for sure,” Obsidian continued, his voice holding the same odd tone. “But Bas thinks one of our Clan might be feeding Jacobson information.”
An ice dragon couldn’t have made Mica’s chest as cold as it was now. A
traitor
?
“Nothing’s sure yet,” Obsidian cautioned, but in the grim line of his mouth, Mica could read what side Obsidian was leaning towards. “I hate saying anything, because mistrust of our own is almost as damaging as a spy, and Jacobson might be taking that route. The more I thought about it, though, the more I came to the conclusion you two should know. I don’t want the information shared to the Clan at large, but this is too big for the inner circle not to be made aware of.”
Holy hell, a
traitor
. The thought was damn near impossible. There hadn’t been talk of a traitor in their Clan for centuries, nearly as long as Obsidian’s line had led. It was a strong Clan, fair and honest, with strong, moral leadership. It was inconceivable that someone within would want it destroyed.
“It’s for information, not to worry over.” Obsidian stood and straightened his tie over the pressed lines of his shirt. Beyond the Clan, he presided over several business interests, different areas that supplied them with money, information, and power – all things that kept their Clan strong even as others disintegrated in these modern times. He stayed in the background, a shadow player, and all the stronger for existing in secret. “That’s all for now. I’ll contact you should any other news come forth. Oh, and Mica?”
Mica tensed at the change in Obsidian’s voice, a change that meant he was back to torturing friend. “Yes?”
“Expect a delivery soon. Something to help you with your mate problems.”
That could not mean anything good, but Obsidian slipped away before Mica could grab at him and demand to know what the black dragon had done.
“I don’t care how powerful a dragon he is, how the hell does he keep on top of all his shit?” Granite’s eyes fell onto the closed door where Obsidian had just exited.
Obsidian wasn’t just powerful. His magic was at damn near terrifying levels, and Mica felt that even though he knew Obsidian would never turn it on him.
He was glad his magic was non-existent and he existed as mere muscle. He would never want the burden Obsidian carried. “The fuckers who took Ashirah must have thought losing her would break him. The obviously didn’t study his line very well, or they would realize breaking Obsidian would be impossible.”
“No dragon can stay sane forever, not when it comes to fear for their mate.” Granite’s voice was contemplative, and Mica’s stomach turned violently at the thought of Sophie disappearing. It was…
fucking hell
. Looking at it now, with knowing how it felt to have his mate, how the hell did Obsidian stay sane?
They may have only been six, but he remembered with vivid clarity the
screams
that came from Obsidian when he discovered Ashirah had been taken, that it took full-grown dragons to wrestle him down and keep him from destroying everything, the sheer
rage
he’d projected for so long, long enough that Mica worried he would not be considered suitable as the next Clan Leader, though his family line had held the position for centuries.
Obsidian may have channeled that rage enough to come into his role of leader, and he often hid it under layers of icy leadership, but Granite was right. A break would come sooner or later, and if that happened, they would have to put Obsidian down.
If that was even possible.
Now Granite turned to him, his look lighter, almost hopeful. “I didn’t ask before. I wanted to give you time to absorb, but this Sophie. She’s your Only?”
Any dragon of their clan would understand what Granite was asking. There were different words for it. Most werewolves used true mates. Mica had also heard the terms soul mate, made mate, and bond mate, and he was sure there were other ways of putting it.
Similar to most of the shifter races, a dragon could take anyone as a mate, but one being existed who was their perfect match, the one being who was made just for them. In their Clan, they called this person the Only.
“She is,” Mica confirmed, happy because Sophie’s smile was once again fresh in his mind, her scent thick in his nose though she was nowhere near. “I’ve heard the stories, but I didn’t know how overwhelming it would be.”
Granite’s own mixed emotions about his mate was playing over his face, his usual jovial demeanor gone, with troubling thoughts and a bone-deep yearning residing there now. “It’s that and more. So, is there any reason you’ve been delaying courting her with the intention of Claim?”
The face of Granite’s mate as they found her, terrified, hurting, yet proud and still fighting, snaked through his head. “We’re at war.”
And here was the truth. Yes, there was always worries about inviting humans into their world. No, not all of them could handle the truth that supernatural beings existed. Several dragons lost their chance with their Only once their mate discovered the truth. It was not a pleasant thought, and it had been on his mind. Yet, though he buried it, here was the real truth. Jacobson existed, and he would go after them in every way possible, including hurting them through their mates. The thought of Sophie broken and hurting and in the hands of Jacobson left Mica lost in a haze of terror that no fight or threat had yet been able to induce.
Granite nodded as if expecting this answer, but his jaw firmed, his eyes lit with the truth of his words, as if he was pushing them at Mica,
daring
him to deny anything that was going to be said. “There will always be reasons. There will always be obstacles. But I guarantee, if you don’t
try
, if you lose her – you will know regret the rest of your days. And I would not wish that for you.” Then a final clap on the shoulder before departing, those last words ringing in Mica’s ears.