Palin
He was halfway to the house when he heard the scream.
Sandy!
Taking off at a run for the house, he abandoned all pretense of sneakiness and secrecy. His mate was in trouble. That was all that mattered.
At first he’d crept from the barn, hoping to get the drop on whoever or whatever was out there. Wild animals were known in the area—they’d seen coyote and wolf tracks on more than one occasion in the field. Although Sandy kept no livestock, plenty of others in the area did, and every now and then the local predators got bold enough to try and make off with one.
Palin hoped that perhaps he could sneak up on them and teach the animals to respect his scent and to give her house a wide berth. He didn’t want them getting comfortable enough to be wandering around near the farmhouse, that was for certain.
Lightning flashed overhead and his keen eyes saw tracks in the mud leading up to the farmhouse. He didn’t recognize them. Too small to be his own, and too big to be Sandy’s, they clearly belonged to someone else.
Terrified of what he might find, Palin charged recklessly for the house, barreling through the front door. It was already open, confirming one of his fears. Someone was in the house. Sandy screamed just as he came inside. Champ was snarling loudly, and someone cursed as the dog lunged forward.
Palin didn’t have time to see who it was, however, because he was hit from the side by a flying body. The pair went down in a heap, knocking over furniture and crashing into a table. Palin hammered an elbow down into the intruder’s back, driving him into the floor. In a rage he picked the woozy human up, twirled them around, and sent them hurtling through the front window.
Glass shattered and rain began pelting the inside of the house, including Palin. He spun, taking in the mayhem that lay before him. Two more attackers were in the house. One of them was wrestling with Champ, the big dog giving as good as he got, while the other advanced on Sandy.
She had snatched up the poker from the fireplace and was waving it back and forth menacingly, doing her best to hold him off, while desperately calling for her dog. Palin had to make a split-second decision. The dog, or his mate.
Or did he?
Charging into the fray he lifted his forearm, slamming it into the back of Champ’s target as he flashed by. The attacker was stunned and started to drop. Champ bore him to the ground, going for the neck.
“Good boy,” he muttered, coming up on Sandy’s attacker from behind. “You picked the wrong house to rob,” he spat, one hand closing around the back of the man’s neck like a vise.
Palin hauled him from his feet and shook him like a rag doll. Then he turned and sent the man barreling through the front door with an underhanded softball pitch. The limp body flew through the opening, clipping its feet on the frame on the way out, which started it spinning before he splashed down into the mud on the front porch.
Champ yelped as his attacker regained his senses, but the intruder didn’t push his attack. Seeing Palin headed his way he scrambled to his feet and took off.
“Champ, stay!” Palin commanded as the dog started to give chase.
The collie half-breed halted immediately.
“Go see Sandy.” He glanced at his mate, who was backed into a corner, her head darting left and right as she waited for someone else to appear out of the shadows. “Sandy, it’s fine,” he said, wanting desperately to go to her, but knowing he needed to ensure the attackers didn’t do any more damage on their way out.
Champ went and sat at Sandy’s right-hand side, his flanks pressed against her. The presence of the hundred-pound canine seemed to calm her slightly.
Palin looked out the doorway, but the three figures were busy darting up the driveway. He could have caught them—and he contemplated doing so—but Sandy started calling out to him from inside.
He shut the door as best he could, noting the broken frame around the lock. It looked as if someone had hit it with a blunt instrument. Or even kicked it in. His gaze went out the window he’d broken, staring thoughtfully up the drive at where the attackers had disappeared.
“Palin. Are you okay?”
He strode over to her, and without checking to see if it was okay he swept her up into his arms, holding her tight. “I’m fine,” he assured her. “They’re gone.”
She shivered, the temperature plunging inside now that it was exposed to the elements. He started to stroke her head and rub her back with his hands, providing warmth. To his approval she pressed against him harder.
At first she was nearly catatonic, not responding, simply leaning against him and letting Palin touch her, but after a bit she started to relax.
“I brought some tarps for the barn,” he said when reason returned to her eyes. “I’ll put them up over the window. It’ll be okay.” He looked over the damage again. “I’m sorry about that by the way.”
She shook her head. Whether that meant it was fine, she didn’t care, or that she was pissed he didn’t know. So Palin just kept on doing what he was doing, until another gust of wind swept through.
“I’m going to go put those tarps up,” he said, stepping away from her. “I’ll be right back. Champ will stay with you.”
But he didn’t get six inches before Sandy threw herself at him, shaking her head. “No. Please. You can’t go. Stay with me.”
“I’m just going to the barn. We need to put something up over the window, otherwise the house will be ruined.” He smiled and tilted her face up to him. “It’ll be okay. They aren’t going to try and rob this place again anytime soon.”
He tried to step away from her, but this time it was Sandy’s words that made him stop. “They weren’t trying to rob it,” she whispered. “I know what that’s like. They were here for me.”
“How can you know that?” he asked, wondering what she meant by knowing what it’s like. Had this happened before?
“I recognized one of their voices,” she said softly, slumping weakly. “They’re one of Rusty’s workers.”
“WHAT?” he bellowed, spinning on the ball of his foot and heading for the door. “How dare that scumbag piece of trash send his men here to terrorize you? I’ll kill them all!” he roared.
Palin only had one thing on the brain: There would be blood. Rusty’s blood, and that of the men who broke into his mate’s house. They would pay with their lives, and then everyone around would know not to touch his mate. It was time the humans learned what the wrath of a dragon was truly like.
“No, Palin! You can’t just go over there and kill them.” Sandy leapt into action, racing around in front of him, trying to block him as he headed for the door.
He was beyond reasoning, however, his dragon was in control and its raw, primal instincts were taking over. Protect. Kill any threats. Nothing could get through that. There wasn’t even a response; he simply stepped around his mate and kept going. The warrior was free, and it was going to do what it did best. Cause mayhem and destruction.
Then, just before he left the house, Sandy said the one thing that could make him stay.
“Kiss me!”
He froze, unable to move, frozen to the spot as if an ice dragon had gotten to him. What had his mate just said? Palin’s head cranked around, his stare boring down upon her. Two unassuming brown eyes stared back at him. He expected her to wilt, to look away, but as they locked gazes Sandy stood taller, her spine straight.
“Well, are you just going to stand there, or are you going to come over here and kiss me?” she snapped now that she had his attention.
“Are you serious?” he asked. Gone was the anger, gone was the monumental fury that had momentarily consumed his entire being. In its place now was an eager hunger that until she’d said those two words, he’d managed to keep contained and mostly hidden behind playful flirting.
If his dragon’s desire to fight had been strong, it’s desire for love was like a bonfire to the candle of fury. Incomparable on scale. Palin took one step toward her. She still didn’t back away. If anything her resolve grew stronger as she realized her plan was going to work.
“I don’t say things I don’t mean,” she said, her voice the only thing that betrayed the tension within her. “You keep flirting with me, saying you want me. I’m telling you now you can close that distance and kiss me. Show me you aren’t all talk. That you’re the real deal.” She smiled slightly and hit him with her ace in the hole. “You told me you never lied to me. Well, here’s your chance to prove it.”
Palin reached out and shoved the door back into its frame. The howling wind died slightly, but with the window still open to the outside it wouldn’t go away permanently.
“How do I know you aren’t just doing this because you know it’ll work? How do I know you truly want it?”
“You don’t. You’re just going to have to trust me.”
Palin took another step forward. Sandy was shaking now.
“Do it,” she hissed.
His dragon took over and Palin closed the distance in two long strides. Champ barely got out of the way before he picked his mate up and promptly set her down on the dining room table. Their mouths met, lips parted in hunger, need overwhelming all reason and logic as they kissed furiously.
Dragon and his mate, wrapped up in one another, uncaring about the world outside them. His desire to inflict death and destruction faded, though even her mouth on his neck and teeth tugging gently on the lobe of his ear couldn’t snuff it out completely. His mate had been threatened, and he wouldn’t forget that any time soon.
For now though, he gave his mate the attention she deserved, the attention she hadn’t realized she craved. Their bodies pressed together, rain occasionally blowing across the house to land on them. Neither noticed, too preoccupied with one another. Touching. Caressing. Squeezing and rubbing.
Palin hadn’t realized the passion trapped deep within Sandy, but he was getting a taste of it now, and he knew instantly he was addicted. He wanted more. She was the one for him, and until he could claim her there wouldn’t be anything else upon his mind.
Now if he could only hold himself back until she was ready.