Hour of the Dragon - Heather Killough-Walden Page 0,147

way she felt might be a little like the way people felt before cosmetic surgery. It was a contrasting emotion, part remorse for leaving behind what they were born with or had known for a long time, and part comforting hope that what they were going to do was better. Except in her case, she had no choice. It was this or death.

You were born a dragon, Annaleia.

Anna blinked and straightened.

His words echoed off the chambers of her soul. It’s been inside you from day one, he told her as the hot water beat down on her. You’re just going to accept your true form. That’s all.

His words comforted and soothed her in a way she was not expecting. It was as if that was what she had needed to hear all along. She’d needed to know that this wasn’t a mistake, that she wasn’t throwing away a precious gift out of ungratefulness or waste or greed. But that she was simply accepting a different gift, one she was meant to accept all along.

A sharp twinge of pleasure-pain wrenched her from her thoughts to pin her attention on her body once more. She stifled a moan, biting her lip and closing her eyes again while her hands returned helplessly to their task.

I can take the pain away, he purred into her mind.

The promise was so sweet, so very, very sweet. But what he’d said was true. Anna was becoming a dragon. And dragons were strong. At least, they were stubborn anyway.

I don’t need you, she coyly lied. I can take away my own pain.

Just because she was becoming a dragon didn’t mean she automatically had to submit to Ares – or to anyone. Right? The world would submit to her! There was no denying a dragon; dragons were strong! Indomitable!

There was laughter in her mind, low and sinister. Antares stepped into the bathroom, the sound of his boots on the polished stone floor unmistakable. Anna’s heart leapt, slamming back down hard before it sped up. But she let him come, her eyes on the opaque crystal shower door. Like someone crazed, she gingerly brushed her fingers over herself and shuddered.

Ares slowly slid back the door and looked her in the eyes. “You aren’t one of us just yet, Raindrop.”

His eyes skewered her, held her to the spot.

“But I am.” He smiled, showing her those fangs that he’d promised he would not sink into her. “And you’re right. There’s nothing stronger than a dragon.”

Anna made a helpless sound where she stood, trembling, beneath the water’s steady stream and her hands moved of their own desperate accord. Ares watched her steadily, his expression an unyielding mask. But his eyes were glowing purple. There was so much of that dragon rolling off him in stifling, delicious, deadly-sweet waves, it was patently evident what he was thinking – what he was feeling.

She looked up into that black-lightning gaze and very softly, through gasps of wretched desire and even more wretched pleasure, she said, “Just so you know. I don’t belong to you.” She spoke the words as if she meant just the opposite. His slow smile was one of both amusement and pride. “Not fifty years ago,” she continued shakily, “not now, n-not fifty years from now.”

She pressed her fingers inward, and as they slid over the smooth slickness of her tormented heat and the breath went from her lungs, Ares very calmly stepped into the shower. Slowly, tenderly, he raised his hand to brush the backs of his fingers against her cheek. She couldn’t help but lean into his touch, but her neck remained craned so she could see him, and her eyes remained locked into the gravity wells of his gaze.

“And just so you know, Raindrop,” he said in his beautiful, deep voice, “you were mine the moment you turned the corner in that hallway and stepped into my view fifty-two years ago. You’ve been mine every moment since. And you will be mine every moment to come.”

Anna’s body bucked when she felt the fingers of his other hand slide over hers between her legs and then sink into her, giving her just the right charged pressure she needed to send her into another climax. “Yes,” she finally surrendered, allowing him to take over and closing her eyes. Gods, yes.

Chapter Forty-nine – Dragon’s Den

Ares kept his word. He wasn’t going to use his teeth on her until she was ready.

He couldn’t keep the monster in him from showing; when he got around