Chapter Fourteen
Connor stood at the edge of the cliff, looking up at the night sky. The moon was a little past full, with the right edge fading, but as bright and brilliant as the last few days. Days he’d spent thinking, wanting, and wishing for Jenna. Desperately.
They’d made the lessons a regular thing, with him carving a little time out of Cynthia’s strict plan. Nothing was as important as Jenna’s safety. The problem was, he was having trouble keeping it all business, and every lesson was a mix of heaven and hell. Heaven because he got to touch her, talk to her, look her in the eyes. Hell because being that close for so long drove him absolutely wild. They’d strayed over into the no-go zone on more than one occasion since that first lesson, and breaking out of those passionate kisses was agony every time. Jenna managed to combine the innocence of a virgin with the hands of a woman who knew just what she wanted and how to get it. The little sounds she made when they kissed made his inner dragon roar. Every instinct told him to make her his. But Joey had taken to sneaking over to watch from time to time, and a good thing too. Joey was the reminder of everything Connor had to protect — his brothers, this clan, the future. A future he would completely fuck up if he didn’t resist Jenna.
So he’d taken to flying every night, long and hard, trying to work off the aching need in the few precious hours he had between a day of work and patrols.
Trying. Not always succeeding. But what else could he do?
He curled his toes over the edge of the cliff, raised his arms, and jumped.
There was a high to shifting in midair, a thrill to that last hint of recklessness he allowed himself these days. Surf crashed into sheer rock at the base of the cliff. His cliff, because he and the guys had finally made enough progress on the main house to move in to their own homes. His place needed a lot of work, but it was his.
Like Jenna is, his dragon growled.
Wind screamed through his ears, whipping his hair as he shifted in midair. His fingers stretched impossibly wide, and the little folds of skin between them became huge, leathery wings. He stretched his chin forward, farther and farther until his dragon neck extended to full length. His pectoral muscles went broad and tight, becoming his chest armor, and the ridgeline of his back stood out.
Sometimes, shifting was agony. Other times, when his dragon was most desperate to fly free, it felt good. A brief flash of white-hot pain that bordered on pleasure, and that was it.
Tonight was the latter kind. It felt so good, the only thing he could equate it to was the feeling of burying himself deep inside Jenna, if he ever got the chance.
I swear, if we do, we’ll make her cry with pleasure and lose all self-control, his dragon growled.
With a sharp flick of the tail, he shot upward along the face of the cliff and roared. That was another thing his cliff was good for — muffling sounds, so no human would hear and wonder what the hell that was.
A second later, he shot over the lip of the cliff, reaching for the stars. Every muscle strained as he powered upward and executed a tight barrel roll to the right. The earth sped by under his wings, tilted with his angle of flight.
That way, he urged his dragon.
The beast grinned and obeyed, not because it was any good at following instructions but because it happened to agree with him. That way was where Jenna was, just around the corner and up the coast. He straightened out to skim the treetops, letting the tallest tickle his belly.
The guest cottage where Jenna was staying lay tucked so tightly among the palms, catching sight of it was a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it kind of thing, so Connor kept his eyes wide. And zing! There it was, the thatched roof flashing below. Of course, it wasn’t the roof that made his blood rush. It was the knowledge that Jenna was sleeping in there, and he was protecting her. He craned his long neck to extend the thrill, then sent a tiny puff of fire into the night.
Watch it, show-off, he told his dragon. She’s still wary of dragons.
His beast side snorted. Right. That’s why she kissed me.
No, she kissed me, he insisted.
He allowed himself one more sweep over her rooftop — whoosh! — then made a lap over the estate. He caught sight of two lumbering shadows — Hunter and Dawn, the bear shifters of Koa Point, out on a patrol, judging by the purposeful way they moved. Their sides brushed as they paced side by side, disappearing quietly into the woods. Kai gave a lazy wave from where he sat on the balcony of his cliffside house, looking out at the view. Tessa came out and waved, too, then hugged Kai from behind and drew him into the house with a sly smile. A moment later, the lights went out, and Connor looked away.
Apart from the cry of a baby that was quickly soothed, all was quiet on the estate. And not just quiet but satisfied. All those shifters, happily settled down with their mates. Moving ahead with their lives and enjoying every minute of every day.
He turned out to sea, wondering if he and his brothers would ever reach that state. Sometimes, it seemed impossible. Other times, he thought of Jenna, and his hopes rose.
He followed the main avenue of moonlight, rising and dipping with every undulation of the swell. Then he flicked the corner of his right wing up to turn south, paralleling the coast from a mile out. A safe enough distance not to be seen by any honeymooners who might be stargazing from the beaches of Kaanapali. He squinted at a field of wavering dots ahead — the mooring field off Lahaina. Draig’s megayacht was still anchored there, and it was high time to pay a visit, dragon style.
Sure. A visit. Shall we have some tea? his dragon growled.
He snorted. Draig would only roll out a red carpet for pedigreed guests like Kai, but it was good to swing past, just in case. The old coot had just about reached the time limit Kai had put on his stay on Maui. Draig had dined, sipped, and teed off to his heart’s delight, so any day now, he ought to be off.
Or so Connor thought, but there was the megayacht, lit up like a Christmas tree at the outer edge of the anchorage, looking like it wasn’t going anywhere soon.
Connor snorted as he raced over the water, belly to the waves. What was it about rich people that compelled them to show off their wealth? The luxury yacht wasn’t just lit up from bow to stern; floodlights illuminated the helicopter from four directions, and underwater lights shone all around the vessel’s waterline. Even in his wildest fantasies, Connor never dreamed himself into that kind of wealth. Simplicity seemed so much better.
Simplicity and Jenna, his dragon threw in.
He smiled back in the direction of Koa Point then frowned, remembering Draig’s predilection for pretty girls and Anton’s pompous rants.
This isn’t even your turf, he remembered the little shit saying. It’s the Llewellyns’. For now.
Connor frowned at the yacht. Anton had been sent packing, but the words stuck with him. Could Draig be up to something, or had that arrogant young dragon been talking big?
A second later, he dismissed the thought the same way Kai had when they’d had a follow-up briefing after that encounter with Anton. Draig was an old dragon nearing the end of a long and illustrious career. He was already as rich as sin, and there was no way he’d risk his reputation by stirring up trouble in Maui.
Besides, Kai had said. He’s an old family friend. He used to visit my uncle here.
Connor knotted his brows as he circled the motor yacht once more. Okay, so Draig was just an arrogant old bastard. That wasn’t exactly a crime.
Let’s buzz him. Connor’s dragon grinned. Zoom right over that upper deck and rattle all those bottles of gin in the bar.
For a second, Connor grinned too. But he caught himself at the last minute and circled the yacht instead.
No pranks. No messing around. No trouble, he barked at his other half.
No fun, his dragon muttered.
Still, he tilted all the way over on his right wing, nearly perpendicular to the sea, and did a full lap of the megayacht. Not near enough to give Draig grounds to complain, but close enough to make his message clear.
We’ve got an eye on you, dear guest.
There was no reason to make a secret of his surveillance. The more obvious, the better. Draig would realize the shifters of Koa Point were serious about keeping a close eye on their turf. Even better, Draig would let the shifter grapevine know that Maui was not a place to drop in to unannounced.
Connor completed his first loop, pulled a tight turn, and repeated the maneuver on his left wingtip. Showboating a little, because gliding for so long at such a tight angle wasn’t a trick many dragons could pull off. He held his breath, straining to complete the full loop without a single beat of his wings. Then he exhaled and powered up to higher altitude, letting his backwash ruffle the flag hanging off the stern pole.
He almost wished Draig would rush out and shake a fist, or better yet, shift into dragon form and fight. But no lights clicked on, and no one stirred on board. Connor glided quietly, tuning in. Normally, he could sense another dragon shifter nearby, and an older, powerful dragon like Draig would make his presence felt from miles away. But it was almost as if no one were around.
Connor peered through the darkness, studying the yacht from above. The afternoon winds had long since given way to the faint breeze of night, and the yacht drifted in peaceful circles around its anchor. The helicopter was powered down, and the twenty-foot tender Draig’s crew used to shuttle him to shore was tied up securely for the night. So far, the elder dragon had been punctual about returning to his yacht every afternoon. No carousing in Lahaina bars, no late nights out.
Which was all good. But the yacht was almost too quiet tonight.
Connor circled, trying to figure it out. Could Draig be asleep? Did he have some kind of dragon-proofed walls?
He folded his wings and spiraled downward in long, slow loops, studying the ship from all sides. The lights were on in the salon Draig had received Kai in, and another few lights dotted the hull. But the windows were all tinted, and he sensed no movement aboard.
Then something flashed off the stern. Something big. Connor twisted to see, too late to catch sight of whatever it had been, but in time to see the long line of phosphorescence that had been stirred up.
Dolphins? A whale? He swooped down for a closer look. Like most dragons, he knew all about the air: crosswinds, thermal updrafts, drag, and glide slopes. But water? Not his specialty.
Could Draig have his own submarine? his dragon asked.
Connor nearly snorted, but then again, who knew? A guy as rich as Draig could have any number of toys.
The water around the vessel’s bow erupted upward. Connor whirled, just catching sight of a long, sleek shape before it disappeared into the depths. Sparks of phosphorescence lit a flurry of bubbles as something corkscrewed around the anchor line and vanished out of sight.
Connor dive-bombed to the surface, fighting the urge to spit fire all the way down. But there was no target, no bad guy. Not a hint of the creature that had teased him a moment ago.
He circled another few times, watching the surface of the sparkling sea. The shallow water fringing Maui might be clear as glass during the day but it was inky at night, and other than another few flashes — some long as a snake, others small as a turtle — Connor couldn’t see a thing. Even those flashes didn’t reveal much, because phosphorescence could be set off by anything — even a school of fish.
But whatever had made that splash was a hell of a lot bigger than a school of fish. More sinister. He made another tight loop of the megayacht then rose higher and spent a good fifteen minutes scrutinizing the area. What had that been?
We’re in Hawaii, his dragon noted. That could have been anything. A shark. Dolphin. Maybe even a whale.
He considered that one. Didn’t whales breed off Maui or something like that?
Anyway, what is the old coot going to be up to? He’s probably asleep or down in the hold counting his cash.
Connor made a face. He’d like to know exactly what Draig was up to, but his dragon was probably right. The old guy hadn’t caused any trouble in the past ten days. Was he really going to do so now?
Slowly, Connor glided out to sea before circling back and studying the area one more time. Then he flew away uneasily.
Anyway, we have to check on Jenna, his dragon said, stretching his neck an extra inch and picking up the pace.
Connor groaned. When was his dragon going to get things straight? He had an estate to check on, not Jenna.
Jenna, his dragon spat back. Only Jenna.
Can’t have Jenna, he tried.
It’s destiny, his dragon growled.
Destiny? Connor scowled at the moon as he flew. Who knew what tricks destiny had up its sleeve?
He crooked his neck and glanced back at Draig’s yacht, then flew on toward his new home. Toward Jenna.
And that time, it was the moon, not his dragon, that murmured to him.
Toward destiny.