Chapter Five

THE bleak morning fit Avery’s mood. Snow-laden clouds blocked the sun, and the wind shrieked outside his window. Avery snuggled in bed, not wanting to rise. Today was the day, the day everything changed. Maybe if he stayed in bed and ignored it, it wouldn’t happen.

A knock on his door told him that wasn’t likely.

“One moment! I’m not even up yet. Jeez.”

Damn, he hadn’t even gotten out of bed yet and already it was starting. Actually, it started last night. Mandy must’ve told his sisters, or they’d been eavesdropping, which wasn’t hard to do with werewolves’ sensitive hearing. Each sister had stopped by to check on him. His mother was upset, but mostly because Warwick was a dragon and not a werewolf.

He yanked on a pair of jeans he’d thrown over the back of his desk chair and padded over to the door. A discreet sniff informed him it was his father. Lovely, just what he wanted to deal with right off the bat, and him without his coffee too.

Running his hand through his hair, he tried to push it into some semblance of order, then opened the door. “Father.”

“May I come in?”

He stepped out of the way so his father could enter. “Sure.”

“Thank you.” His father walked in and stood in the middle of the room.

Unsure what else to do, Avery sat down on the foot of the bed. His father never just showed up in his private space to chat.

“I know you’re not happy with me—”

Oh gods, again? “Father, we’ve already been through this. I’ve agreed, so I don’t really understand why we have to rehash this again this morning.”

“I wanted to let you know you can have the furniture in this room. Is there anything else you wish to take?”

“I haven’t had a chance to really think about it, but thank you, regardless.” Avery needed coffee, breakfast, and a magic wand that would cancel out the previous twenty-four hours. Since he was not going to get the last one, the first and second seemed the most viable. “Can we talk about this after I’ve had breakfast?” And by all the gods, coffee.

“Certainly. As I told you, Warwick will be here this afternoon at three. I think it’d be best if the two of you met then.”

I can think of a hundred other places I’d much rather be. “Okay.”

“Very well, then,” Alpha Montgomery said. “Get dressed and meet me in the dining room. Breakfast is going to be served shortly.”

“Yes, Father.” And there had better be lots and lots of coffee. I’m going to need it.

After his father left, Avery showered, brushed his teeth, and dressed, then hurried to the dining room. His parents were already seated. He barely sat down before a servant brought him a cup of coffee. He almost told them to bring the pot. He nodded to his mother as he sipped his drink.

His father cleared his throat. “While we wait, I thought I’d tell you what I know concerning dragons.”

“Well, considering I’m about to be mated to one, that might be a good idea.”

“Really, Avery, it’s too early in the morning for you to be this snarky,” his mother snapped.

“My apologies. Not enough caffeine in me yet.” And, well… he was in a snarky kind of mood. Having a mating sprung on him—and to a dragon, no less—tended to do that to a guy.

“Dearest, you might want to make more of an effort to control that tongue of yours. Your father and I love you dearly, so we put up with such unbecoming behavior from an Omega, but your mate might not.”

“Yes, Mother.” My mate can bite me, then.

The next thing he knew, his wolf was bounding around inside his head in total agreement with the sentiment. Oh shit, how could he have forgotten biting was part of the mating ritual? He frowned into his coffee.

But Warwick wasn’t a werewolf. Was a mating bite possible? Hell, who knew. He could ask his father, but, yeah… no. That was a conversation he was sure neither one of them wanted to have.

“As you probably already know, dragons are apex predators and are at the top of the paranormal hierarchy. Unlike us, there are several different kinds of dragons. Going by Warwick’s indigo eyes, I’m going to hazard a guess that he has control over storms.”

“What does that mean?” Avery asked. That sounded cool and totally intimidating.

“I’m not exactly sure, to be honest. As a whole, the species tends to be quite mysterious. But I do know some dragons can breathe fire. Others have the ability to control ice. I’ve met a couple who have an affinity with water. From my understanding, Warwick is able to create storms. So, instead of breathing fire, I’m going to assume he breathes lightning.”

“Well, that’s not dangerous at all, is it?” Avery slouched in his chair.

“Sit up straight, dear,” his mother admonished.

Avery, knowing his mother would glare at him until he did, straightened.

“He’s a dragon.” Alpha Montgomery shrugged as if that explained it all.

Visions of being electrocuted danced through Avery’s mind. He wanted to bang his head against the elegant dining room table, but his mother would probably throw her highly polished silverware at him. The urge to throttle his father was strong.

“Oh, and he lives in a castle. It’s a reproduction, of course, but quite nice,” Alpha Montgomery added.

That was all well and good, but Avery wanted to know about the man. “What do you know about him, though?”

Blankness covered his father’s face. “He’s an astute and ruthless businessman. He owns stock in nearly everything, and rumor is, he’s insanely rich. He also loans money to those of us in the paranormal community who, shall we say, need a little discreet help. His holdings are vast too, but that’s not surprising, considering how old he is.”

Avery jumped in before his father could continue. “About that. Just how old is he?”

Alpha Montgomery started to speak, then paused as servants emerged from the kitchen, each bearing several plates. He waited until breakfast was placed in front of them before continuing. “I’m not entirely sure. Dragons are extremely long-lived.”

Avery picked at his eggs. “Does that mean he’s immortal?”

“No, but they’re very hard to kill.”

“Good to know,” Avery quipped. That earned him a frown from his mother. Maybe right now, retreat was the better part of valor, so he reined in his unruly tongue.

Avery’s stomach growled, and for the time being, he concentrated on his food while his mind ran in circles. Rumors said that dragons were cold, ruthless, and dangerous. But then, the same thing could be said about any dominant predator. That didn’t worry Avery. As an Omega, he spent his whole life dealing with Alpha-type personalities.

What concerned him was what Warwick was like in his shifted form. When any werewolves were changed, they retained their memories and knowledge. They were animals, but they knew right from wrong, even if some of them didn’t act like it at times.

But dragons… what were they like? He’d never met a dragon, and technically still hadn’t, much less seen one shift. But he’d heard things. Who hadn’t? It was whispered they were quite the terror in their dragon form—a truly monstrous nightmare that had some reptilian traits, things like scales. And deadly. Hell, they could bite a body in half, or squash it flat with one well-placed step. They could burn someone up with flames or freeze them whole. Everybody knew not to fuck with a dragon.

He was so screwed. But there was no denying how his body responded. That had nearly driven him out of his head last night. Warwick was sex personified, but even the most gorgeous man could be an asshole. From what his father told him, Warwick might be a rich asshole with a monstrous Alpha complex.

Yep, he was going to need more coffee.

Apparently his father had exhausted the wealth of information he had on dragons and was chatting with his mother. Fine. That suited Avery. He really wasn’t in the mood to carry on a conversation. As he ate breakfast, he kept returning to one question: Why? Why would Warwick do this?

On the surface it made no sense. Instead of taking everything his father owned, Warwick said he wanted three of his most profitable businesses and Avery. It didn’t add up. Warwick was obviously one of those who was obsessed with wealth, be it gold, jewelry, or paper money. But still. Warwick was actually taking a loss by the course of action he’d set. Not that Avery wasn’t thankful to some degree. He was… as long as he didn’t factor in sacrificing himself to make Warwick happy.

Avery bit into a perfectly cooked strip of bacon. He wasn’t arrogant enough to think Warwick had taken one look at him and fallen in love. Did dragons love? Avery had no idea, but he also knew he wouldn’t be making any “Top Ten Sexiest Man Alive” lists either. As a werewolf, at six feet tall, he was on the short side for their species. Nor was his body covered in bulky muscles. Even his hair color was an abnormality in werewolves—only Omegas had this irritating shade. And hazel eyes? Who’d ever heard of a werewolf with hazel eyes… except, again, in regard to Omegas. He’d seen numerous weres who were way sexier than him.

So if his stunning good looks hadn’t attracted Warwick, what had?

Avery finished breakfast, excused himself, and returned to his room. In the normal course of a day, he’d dress, then drive to his father’s corporate headquarters, where he had an office. He didn’t have a title, per se. Even though they had accountants for every business, he still kept an eye on profits. His inborn talent as an Omega might be less than useful, but he was good with numbers.

He flopped back down on his bed. Considering the monumental change his life was about to take, he didn’t see the point in going. Hells, he wasn’t even sure he’d be allowed to keep his job. Avery dropped his head into his hands, his elbows resting on his knees.

He’d fought his father hard for that job too. Most Omegas didn’t work. They were too busy shopping, partying, or whatever the hell else they did. But not Avery. Such a lifestyle didn’t appeal to him. Now there was a possibility he’d have to give up his hard-earned position, and that infuriated him.

Pulling his cell of his pocket, he checked the time. Aggravated, he dropped the phone on the bed. There were hours before the meeting was scheduled to take place. Dammit, he was bored. He paced around his room, getting more restless with every passing second.

Screw this. Maybe a good run would clear his head. He opened his bedroom window, then stripped. Leaving his clothes where they fell, he cleared his mind. Crouching, hands resting upon the cold hardwood floor, he closed his eyes and called forth the other side of his nature.

The predictable roaring in his head started. Reality as he knew it faded. All his senses were disabled, and his mind emptied as he shifted. The change from human to animal briefly left him unanchored as he moved from one conscious to another. Werewolves were most vulnerable for that brief heartbeat of time.

There was no pain, no loud pops or the uncomfortable sound of bones breaking. He’d seen other wolves shift, and it was nothing more than a blurring of whatever form they inhabited. One second a human stood there, and then the next there was a wolf. It was simple and fast.

Joy spread through him once the shift finished. Paws replaced hands and feet. Fur replaced human skin. Yipping, he danced in place as he shook out his fur. Oh. Oh, so nice. He loved being in his wolf form. Everything was so much clearer, brighter.

He could smell whatever was used to polish the hardwood floors in his room. A variety of scents assaulted him—the fabric softener the servants used when drying his clothes, his deodorant—and the cool, crisp air called to him from the opened window. He raced toward the window, but a pile of clothes on the floor caught his attention.

A pile!

Changing directions, he ran straight for them instead. Claws clicking on the hardwood, he tried to stop but was unable to get traction. He slid into the pile and, ecstatic, rolled around. His muzzle grasped stiff denim, and he flopped over onto his back.

With a toss of his head, he threw the denim into the air. His back legs kicked, and he barked happily when the jeans fell across him, covering his face. A sharp voice in his mind reminded him he was particularly fond of those jeans, so mauling was obviously out, although the temptation was great.

Rolling into a sitting position, tail thumping, he threw the jeans up one last time. Silly human didn’t know how to have fun. They fluttered to the ground and didn’t move. Dropping the front part of his body down, ass up in the air, he barked.

The stupid things just lay there, unfortunately. He wanted to chase something. Disappointed—he really wanted to chase something—he turned his attention back to the open window. He needed to be out there in the open. Four walls and hardwood floors were no place for him.

As he bounded across the room, a flash of white caught his eye. He slid to a stop again. A silvery white wolf stared back at him. He lifted his lip, flashing a fang. He hated that white coat—hated being different. Maybe he could find a mudhole to roll around in. The human side of his nature cringed, but he shushed it. At least then he’d look somewhat like the other werewolves for a short time.

Turning his back on the reflection, he stuck his tail up clearly, showing what he thought about the color of his coat. Since there wasn’t anything he could do about it, he leaped through the window and landed on the roof.

He sidled down, then jumped to the ground. It was a three-story house, but the distance was nothing for their kind. Once he had his paws on Mother Earth, he took off, running full-out. Their house was set on fifty acres of forested land, which his father had insisted be left wild, and Avery was glad of that.

A cool breeze whistled through the trees, but the sun was out and beating down. He ran, paws striking the ground in concert. The cold was bracing, and his spirits soared as he dashed into the woods. Leafless trees stood guard as he darted in and out.

Above him, birds sang. Heart thumping, he pushed his body as hard as he could. Prey animals scurried out of his way, not that he was interested in eating them. But chasing? That was a whole other matter. Something caught his attention and he veered to the right, body moving smoothly and ears alert. A rabbit. It was a rabbit!

The thrill of the chase motivated him as the long, furry creature zipped and zagged out in front of him in an effort to get away. Excited, he followed. They ran through the woods, Avery making a conscious effort not to overpower the rabbit. He didn’t want to kill it, only play with it. It darted off to the left, changing its trajectory, the smart little bugger. Avery followed.

Delightedly, he laughed, although it sounded more like a rolling growl. He was almost close enough to nudge it with his nose when his paws slipped on the decaying leaves and flew out from under him. Down Avery went, tumbling over and over. Panting, he lay there. He yipped at the escaping rabbit, letting it know it won that round.

He dropped his head to his paws, his heart racing. Something smelled good, and he nosed around the leaves. Overcome with the scent, he couldn’t resist the urge to roll around. Back legs kicking, he wallowed.

Hopping up, he pranced around, tail wagging. Oh, what the heck, once wasn’t enough. He flopped back down and rolled around in the dead leaves again for good measure. Finally he grew still, head once more lying on his paws.

That was fun.

He rested, letting his mind wander. Soon he’d have to return to the pack house, but not yet. Thirsty, he rose and trotted off toward a nearby stream. Before he drew close enough to drink, he scanned the surrounding area. Although he was a predator, he was by no means the biggest one around.

Since this was pack lands, there shouldn’t be other shifters, but other things were in the forest with fangs and claws. Once he was assured he was the biggest threat, he moseyed over to the bank and, lowering his head, drank his fill.

For the next few hours, he explored the forest. Eventually the internal clock in his head warned him time was running out. With a quick glance toward the skies, he calculated the time. As much as he hated leaving the delights the forest offered, he had to. Slowly he made his way back toward the pack house, tail drooping.

Not in the mood to deal with other pack members, he slunk toward the house, and with nimble leaps, jumped from balcony to balcony until he reached the roof. Good thing werewolves were strong. Picking his way across the roof, he returned to his bedroom window and jumped inside. He plopped down on his butt and cleared his mind, calling forth the human side of his nature.

Seconds later he rose smoothly from a crouching position. “Ugh. What the hell did I roll around in?” Damn wolf.

After a quick check of the time, he walked to his attached bathroom and showered. When he was finished, he wrapped the towel around his waist and dried his hair. That done, he stood in front of his closet, debating what to wear. If left up to him, he would show up in jeans and a T-shirt. It would almost be worth seeing the horrified look on his mother’s face. Deciding not to tempt fate, he slipped on a pair of khaki pants and a nice button-down shirt. Sliding his feet into loafers, he hurried downstairs. He arrived at his father’s office door a few minutes before three o’clock. He knocked, and once his father called for him to enter, he opened the door and walked in.

Alpha Montgomery made a point of checking his wristwatch. “I was wondering if you were going to be here on time.”

“Sorry.” Avery shrugged. “I went for a run.”

Alpha Montgomery nodded. “Well, have a seat. Warwick should be here momentarily.”

Still not in a mood to talk, Avery nodded and pulled his cell phone out to check his Facebook account. His father must’ve gotten the hint, because he returned to staring at whatever was on his desktop screen.

Somewhere in the house, the grandfather clock chimed out the hour. Before it finished striking three o’clock, Avery snapped his head up. There was that damn scent again—that same dark and delicious fragrance he’d noticed the night before. Now that he was a little more clearheaded, he was finally able to pin down what it smelled like—chocolate. It reminded him of the decadent chocolates his mother bought from overseas.

His mouth watered from the yummy, hot, chocolate aroma. He loved the treat, loved the rich creaminess and the smooth, silken texture as it melted on his tongue. But it didn’t usually make his cock hard, and the damn thing was standing up at attention.

His heart gave a hard thump, then a flutter. Its pace picked up, the nearer the smell came. Trying to ignore the frantic beating in his chest, he focused on the steady tread of footsteps coming closer.

Did his father not notice it? Or was it just him? Fuck, is this what mated couples talk about when they refer to a compelling scent? Any questions he might have had last night about what that scent was to him were now answered. He didn’t know whether to howl happily or run from the room.

The damn dragon was his mate, no question about it—not if everything he’d always heard was correct. Slowly he turned in his seat to stare at the door. The fluttering in his chest increased at his mate’s authoritative knock.

Alpha Montgomery looked up. He sniffed, then wiped all emotions off his face. “Come in.”

The door handle turned inch by agonizing inch. Avery’s breath tangled in his chest. Oh gods, open the damn door already! That fluttering in his chest turned into a relentless beat. He clenched the chair arms as he watched, breathless, as the knob turned.