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Roloko climbed to the summit of the mountain and turned to look down upon the area. He knew that he was in the right place – he could scent the shifters in the air.
There was magic upon the mountain. It was a gathering place for witches and he could feel it like tiny electric shocks in the air.
His appearance wouldn’t be a surprise. The witches knew that he was coming. He could feel their magic busily searching for his presence…
Spells and potions wouldn’t protect the one that he was seeking. The true alpha’s destiny would be short lived. It had to be – it upset the balance of nature and added a new dimension to it – just as his presence did.
That had been why they had banished the shifters dragons to slumber. Not the men, but the beasts within. Only calling on them when needed…
He’d missed soaring above the earth, and he was going to enjoy every last moment of what he had when he released his dragon from inside.
The beast was ready. More than ready. It wanted out and it clawed inside of him…
Roloko made fast work of shedding his clothes. His body was fevered with the fire of the dragon that had awakened. It burned his skin from the inside out…
Where bear shifters were large and stocky, packed full of hard muscle, and wolf shifters were broad and slender at the hips … a dragon shifter was pure, hard, ripped muscle from their necks to their toes. Standing taller – wider – looming larger – they were the true Greek Gods that mortal man spoke about…
Roloko closed his eyes and gave himself over to his beast.
The dragon burst from inside of him with a deafening screech that echoed through the mountain peaks …
The beast pushed up from the rocks, scattering the small boulders down the face of the mountain, as it stretched out its enormous wings in the prelude to flight…
And then he flew – roared – one flap of his wingspan and he was gone, soaring high into the clouds, and revelling in flight – in freedom.
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The alien sound of the dragon’s screech rattled her mind enough that Zana broke free of her mate. She’d been carried away inside of his arms, but that was only natural considering that the mating pull was definitely working overtime…
“Dragon call…” she bit out – torn in two minds as to whether she gave a damn or not and went back to kissing her mate, or facing the face that the beast had made itself known to them.
George didn’t give a damn about the dragon. His beast wanted its mate. He wanted his mate – it was that plain and simple.
He’d made up his mind to leave. To face the dragon on his own terms and live or die as he might, but then he’d kissed her…
He shouldn’t have kissed her.
He’d pretty much known his own mind before he’d had her within his arms, and now that had all gone to crap.
He wanted her.
He wanted to live.
He wanted to live with her for the rest of his life.
He’d screwed up again. Done things wrong. Done things badly, and now they all might pay the price.
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“We’re out of time…” Connor announced as he poked his head into the archive room; where the witches were feverishly scouring their ancestor’s history books in the shape and form of a very large collection of spells and legends…
“What makes you think we are deaf?” Vicky shot back, and got a few minor sniggers from the collective hive that was working around her.
“Oh I don’t know. Females. Humans. Witches…” Connor offered back, and his mate snorted her contempt for him.
She didn’t bother to look up…
“You’ll pay for that later…” she muttered.
“I know, can’t wait … spells? Tokens? Charms? Amulets? Any bloody thing that will kill the dragon dead on the spot?” Connor asked, eager not to have fight a dragon if he didn’t have to.
It wasn’t that it wasn’t a new and exciting challenge for him – it was. One part of him wanted to see how he would do against a mythical being that was supposed to be long since dead.
But then there was the part of him that really didn’t look forward to what happened if he didn’t succeed.
Death. A long time coming, but, too soon after finding his mate.
He’d kind of like to live with her for a thousand years or so first.
“Nope…” Vicky informed him, and he nodded solemnly.
“Man the battlements – got it,” Connor offered back. “If you could, maybe, and I’m just putting this out there for the poops and giggles of you witches, no pressure … find something to defeat the dragon and save the day, before it turns me into a crispy critter – I’d be delicious however cooked, of course, but … I’d be grateful – eternally so – and, as we all know, an eternity to a vampire is…”
“Connor…” Vicky’s head snapped up on her neck and her eyes locked on his.
“Yes…?” He looked calm, hopeful, and interested.
“We’ll let you know…” she offered back.
“Right,” Connor nodded. Then he turned to leave … “Thank you.” He offered back over his shoulder.
“And, Connor?” She called, and watched him turn to look back over his shoulder at her once more. “Don’t die, because I’ll use my magic to resurrect you and kill you – over, and over, and over again.”
“Right. Good. Don’t die. Got it,” he nodded, and then he took off on fast feet towards the roof.
It was the last place that he wanted to be – away from his mate.
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Roloko flapped his wings and felt the grace of flight.
He may have been big and powerful, but when he was flying – he was streamlined – cutting through the air, catching the wind and letting it carry him on…
He’d missed that so damn much that he wished he didn’t have a destiny to fulfil, a true alpha to kill. He could stay in the air all night and soar with the clouds, rising up to meet the morning sun…
His beast was content.
It no longer felt like a wedge of concrete was lodged in his guts. Like something was missing…
But it was.
His beast. That was what was missing.
Ever present but always dormant.
He’d missed his dragon.
Roloko swooped down through the clouds and spotted the castle that perched on the far side of the mountain.
Smart vampire – hiding in plain sight from the villagers…
He felt the hard burn within his chest and forced his breath out – fire spewed – flames licked at the air.
He was ready.