His lips crashed onto hers. Despite massive reservations, Calla met him with equal urgency. Maybe this wasn't the tender homemaking she'd envisioned when speaking with General Takoda, but it was something, and Calla yearned for it. Her dragon roared in her chest, responding to the near-violent desperation she sensed in Mateo. He needed reassurance and she was happy to provide.

He stumbled them towards the hotel bed. Calla fell back and dragged Mateo down with her. She wanted his weight pressing her into the mattress, reminding her that she was more than a mad queen's First General. She was a female with needs she'd been suppressing for too long.

Mateo rubbed against her like a giant cat, working his body up and down hers as if he couldn't get enough of the contact. Calla scratched at his shirt until she pulled it overhead. The heat blasting from his skin knocked her back. Mateo hiked her dress up halfway, exposing her legs, pressing his jean-clad bulge to her core.

Gods, she was wet. Calla arched and a high-pitched whine of need crawled out of her throat. Her powyrful reaction surprised her. He was a vampyr. Her dragon couldn't mate with him for life, and yet the purring reaction she felt in her chest and core said otherwise. Could a dragon mate with a vampyr?

Did she want to?

Mateo yanked her dress over her head. Cold air peaked her nipples and Calla gasped under the intense line of his gaze. She was exposed, body and mind. She trembled under the reverent touch of his fingers. He seemed shocked at the picture she made. As if she were a jewel, priceless and unreal.

His hand tripped over the line of her panties, then transferred to the front of his jeans where his bulge pressed for freedom. "What do you do to me?"

Calla's eyes narrowed. The slightly stunned blend of fierce joy… was a familiar expression. She'd been asked to see a male through his first Heat a time or two—an honor to be approached, trusted not to try to claim him while he was vulnerable. She didn't know about vampyrs, but dragon males were impotent until the first joining with their mate. She could only confirm what she felt—her dragon needed Mateo's body in hers. Now.

She grabbed for his jeans and undid the button. The zipper. She pushed jeans and boxers down at once, dropping them to the floor, but that was as far as she got. Mateo shoved her back down on the bed and straddled her legs. He pressed his face to her neck and breathed in like a dragon might memorize the smell of his mate.

But that was just coincidence. He was vampyr. She'd seen the ridges on his face and the claws in his hands. This was a desperate joining, but it wasn't a mating. Her dragon snarled defiance.

Mateo dropped his hips to hers. She spread her legs to accommodate him and arched again to feel the weight of him on her mound. He rocked against her, working his erection against her panties, pressing himself against her most intimate spot. Calla cried out. Pleasure spiked around her hips and she scratched at his back, begging for more and unable to find it.

"Now," she moaned.

"I don't want to hurt you," he said, pressing his lips to her neck.

She laughed. How sweet. "I'm a dragon."

He growled and nipped her skin. Calla gave him room, holding his head in place so he'd mark her like a mate. He sucked and licked until a bruise rose. Calla's dragon purred and she demanded, "Bite me." Even if they couldn't mate, she wanted it.

Mateo pulled his head away instead and braced himself to grind their hips together. Calla dragged at her panties, desperate, needy. Mateo belonged with her. There was no other explanation for this hot, driving force. She kicked her underwear to the side. Mateo slid down, eyes on her mound, and she gripped his chin with one firm hand to drag him back up. "Later," she said. "I need you now." She spread herself open to him and when he hesitated, she palmed his erection and stroked it.

He jerked in her hand. "I've never—" He shut his eyes.

He was a virgin. Just like a dragon male—needy, strong, and inexperienced until he joined with his mate. She couldn't be. He was vampyr.

She guided him to her core and the moment his hot cock breached, he pressed himself in all the way. Inches and inches of thick shaft filling her to the top. He growled. Her dragon answered. And his body moved without further instruction. She welcomed it, stroking his shoulders and yearning for more. Every thrust confirmed this was exactly where she belonged.

His pattern faltered. Calla saw his eyes flip vampyr red but she wasn't afraid. A dragon male frequently lost control of his form during the first mating, this was no different. She could handle his strength and his temper. She was the First General. Mateo growled. His strokes deepened, impacting with perfect intent. A line of ridges appeared over his brow. His fangs descended.

Calla put a hand to her neck where he'd pulled the hickey. She wanted his bite. It wasn't the bite of a mate, but it was close, closer than she'd ever felt before in her life. He arched back instead. His clawed hands gripped her thighs and the new angle stroked her just right. Calla dropped a hand to her clit but she hardly needed to. Orgasm shuddered up her spine and she bowed. Her release made her slick. She screamed satisfaction.

Mateo pressed himself deep. His cock pulsed inside of her and every wave of Calla's orgasm tightened their connection. He groaned, flashing his fangs. Calla had to know what kissing him was like. She clamped her legs around him and pulled herself up, grabbing his head with one hand. She pressed her lips to his broad fangs and lapped gently at his mouth. They rocked together. Mateo's tongue met hers, guiding her to the back of his fangs where she licked and sucked until Mateo shuddered, an aftershock of their coupling.

All that was missing was a bite.

* * *

Too much energy swirled around him. Mateo's breath heaved but he couldn't find enough air. Calla glowed on the bed, flush with heat and perfectly content, but he paced the room, fraught with anxiety and a need to act. He panted. Should he go for a run? He wasn't usually the kind of guy who did that, but this stirring need to do something drove him mad. He turned away from the bed and immediately came to an involuntary halt.

He couldn't leave Calla.

He didn't really want to leave her in the first place, but his body refused to take another step away from her. Something bound them together, closer than lovers, closer even than Mateo to his sire. He couldn't explain it. The very thought of pressing further made him physically ill. He braced his hand on the wall and inched back towards the bed. Towards Calla who watched him with sharp, analytical eyes.

She sat up, all languid curves and contained fire. "I think I'll go down to the lobby to—"

"No!" Mateo found himself pinning her to the bed, his vampyr in complete control. He heaved for air over her, hands hard on her wrists. He stared her in the eye and wondered what the hell was wrong with him.

Calla didn't seem to be afraid. In fact, her face showed signs of dawning understanding. Mateo tried to make himself let go over her, to stand up and at least give her a foot of space. He couldn't. He growled low in his throat, angry at himself.

"Mateo. I'm not going anywhere."

He was suddenly released. Mateo pressed the heel of his palm to his forehead and stumbled to his feet, though not far away. His vampyr reluctantly sank away from his skin. "What the hell is going on?"

Calla slid off the bed and reached for him when he was compelled to follow her. Her hand in his helped ease some of the turmoil in his chest. She began dressing one handed. "Do vampyrs bond?"

He shook his head. "We don't mate for life. There's a bond between sire and Descent, but the connection is more traditional than anything."

"So, you don't have mating rituals or anything?"

He let go of her hand long enough to let her bounce into her jeans and a t-shirt but couldn't quite tear his eyes away from her to dress himself. What if she walked out the door? "No, there's nothing." Calla's lips pressed together and Mateo huffed air through his nose. She knew something. "Just tell me," he demanded, grabbing her hand again, unable to tolerate the yearning in his very skin for her touch.

She seemed to understand what he needed. She dragged her palm up his bare arm and onto his neck, freeing him to grab his own clothes and dress. "I think you've gone into Heat," she said with complete seriousness.

"What, like a dragon?" He yanked the jeans up.

She caught his eyes and said, "Exactly like a dragon." He wanted to laugh but the tone in her voice killed the idea. She saw his expression, though, and shrugged. "Don't believe me?" Calla lifted her hand from his neck.

Mateo's world tilted. He saw red and the roar of a massive beast erupted from his chest. Powyr whipped around the room, vampyr fire and another flavor he'd never felt before. He was out of control.

And in another moment, he could see again. Calla was close to him, her hands on either side of his face, guiding him through a slow breathing exercise. Her touch had brought him back. But from what? She ran a thumb over the ridge of his eyebrow. Was he vampyr? He couldn't even tell anymore.

"Mateo, we need to get away from here. Away from people. The Heat is violent. It's dangerous for dragons, let alone humans." She tapped his nose and he blinked. "Are you listening?"

"Yeah. Yeah. Away from people. How are we going to do that? We're in the middle of LA." His safe houses were all in apartment housing. People everywhere.

"First take these bracers off me. If you lose yourself, I can help. I don't know how you're going to react—I've never heard of a vampyr in Heat before—but maybe my pheromones are affecting you."

She offered her wrist to him and Mateo put his hands on the golden cuff. He hesitated, but the expected feeling of guilt didn't come. He was acting against the will of the cognate. Against the client who hired them. Mateo thought it would be harder. He cast his focus into the cuff and broke the powyr that bound Calla to her human form. Then he ripped the bracer in half. He did the same to the other one. Calla rubbed her wrists one at a time, keeping contact with him like he might go rogue without her touch.

Maybe he would.

Mateo put his face in his hands and groaned. His sire had a lot of explaining to do. Shit. His sire, his brother, the client; how would he resolve any of this? He didn't even know who he was.

"Okay," Calla said. "All right, that wasn't so bad. Let's find someplace a little more secluded next."

"The roof maybe?"

"Sure, we can do the roof." She took his hand. Her grip was warm and reassuring. He clung to that lifeline, suddenly afraid of this new world he found himself in.

Calla tugged him out of the room and down the hall, walking calmly by his side as if they were merely on the way to dinner. Mateo was twitchy and anxious. He couldn't rein in the bursts of vampyr powyr that popped and flowed from his body. Like a bottle of champagne, there was no re-corking this.

The elevator couldn't contain him. Mateo shied away from the glossy silver doors and slammed his hand on the stairway exit. They climbed. And climbed. Perhaps the exertion would bleed off some of this extra energy? Three floors up, Mateo began jogging. Seven floors and he gripped Calla's hand harder. Nine floors, he started skipping stairs as he shed vampyr flame with every step. Something was happening to him. Something large was coming, building up inside of him and demanding he let it loose. Only Calla's touch and the sheer force of his will kept it at bay.

Mateo burst through the roof's doorway and lost control. Powyr flooded from his skin in every direction. It pulsed hard enough to throw Calla to the side. Mateo pitched to his knees and roared. Every bone in his body screamed. There was tearing and popping. Something misaligned and corrected. He grew. Massively.

Tough, leathery wings flexed off his spine. He whipped his tail side to side. And when he regained his senses, Mateo looked down at Calla from twelve feet up.

What the fuck?