Authors: DJ Michaels
Rye stroked her hair back from her face. “Dev wants to wait
until you’re fully back to yourself before you make such a binding decision,
but after what we just shared…” He reached out and laid a possessive hand on
her belly. “What we have is extraordinary, the once-in-a-lifetime kind of
extraordinary that none of us wants to lose. I want you bound to us by love and
by law. Will you sign a contract with us, Tansy?”
She looked at Dev. “This is what you want too?”
He laid his hand over Rye’s where it rested on her abdomen. “More
than my next breath.”
She slipped her hands under two trim waists and stroked down
the hard muscles of their backs. “Then I would be honored to sign a mating
contract with you both.”
Rye ran a bath, and when he and his lovers were wet and
naked, they indulged themselves all over again.
He craved Tansy’s touch. He was addicted to her skin. And
even though she was willing, sensual and with him and Dev in every way that
mattered, Rye didn’t quite believe she was theirs. A part of him was almost too
scared to trust, too amazed and awestruck to sink into the reality that this
woman was his. That she was committed to creating a family with her two
Enforcers.
Despite everything that had happened to her, all the trauma
she’d experienced and all the hurdles she’d yet to overcome, she was willing to
take the leap. She trusted Dev and him with her body and her heart, and Rye had
never been so grateful for anything in his life.
It was well past lunch before they were finally dry and
dressed. Tansy wore her silk trousers and tunic, while Dev and Rye wore nothing
but pants. When he noticed how gingerly his new mate was walking, he couldn’t
help giving in to the surge of territorial male pride. He guided her to the couch,
got her settled and stole some more kisses as Dev ordered their food.
Just as he was about to cuddle her tight in his arms, Tansy
leaned forward and eyed a large envelope half-hidden under the foot table. “Wow,
you guys were pretty sure of yourselves.”
Rye leaned down to pick up the official-looking package. “Sure
about what, honey?”
“The mating thing. Aren’t those the contracts?”
“No.” He held up the envelope so Dev could see it. “Yours?”
Dev shook his head and Rye’s whole body went cold. Someone
or something had breached their home while they’d been playing in bed with
Tansy. Rye locked eyes with his denmate. Neither looked away, even when Dev’s
gaze went blank as he spoke to Fellescend through their link.
A moment later Oskaal popped into view in a shower of sparks,
but neither Enforcer relaxed. That envelope could be tainted with anything,
most of which the dragonets would be able to sense. The clever creatures had a
particular skill-set, one of which was a highly developed sense of smell. If
there was anything dangerous in or on the envelope, Oskaal would be able to
scent it.
Rye tossed the packet onto the table and nodded to the
dragonet. “What can you tell us?”
Oskaal dropped onto the table and sniffed at the envelope, a
steady hum coming from the back of his throat. Using his claw to move it
around, he flipped it over and moved it around some more, sniffing the whole
time. Finally he trilled, shook himself off, and flew up to take a position on
the back of the couch near Tansy’s head.
Fellescend’s voice came through the link to all three of
them.
Oskaal doesn’t smell anything bad or wrong. He doesn’t believe there
are any poisons or traps, and he’s as sure as he can be that the package is
safe to open.
“Well, at least we know it’s not a snake,” Tansy said,
referring to the incident that had almost killed Sorcha.
Dev gave her a flat stare. “There’s nothing funny about
someone trying to murder Sorcha. Or you, for that matter.”
She huffed out an exasperated breath. “Bloody hell, Dev, it’s
just an envelope.”
One that had appeared with ease inside their den. And one
that wasn’t going to open itself. Moving away from Tansy, just in case, Rye
opened the flap. When it appeared to hold nothing more sinister than paper, he
finally allowed himself to relax. He pulled out what proved to be a batch of
hard-copy holos clipped together with a note.
Does your new protector know what you are, whore? I have
lots more where these came from. If you don’t meet my demands, I’ll make sure
every Enforcer in the den gets a copy. I’ll be in touch.
Rye tore off the clip and the note to be confronted by an
image of Tansy, wild-eyed and terrified, being forced to suck some bastard’s
cock. Rage erupted inside him, scorching, malevolent, seething with the need to
do violence. He flipped to the next holo, and the next, each one a barbarous
record of how his woman had been tortured. In that moment he was so full of
hate, burning so hot for vengeance, that he didn’t even realize Tansy had come
to stand next to him.
Her scream of utter desolation brought him back.
She collapsed to the floor, arms around her middle, and
keened in almost mindless agony. Dropping to his knees beside her, he wrapped
her in his arms and let Dev collect the holos and shove them back in the
envelope.
Rye squeezed Tansy tight, tucking her into the shelter of
his body. “I’m so sorry, honey. I wish I could make it better.” He kept talking
to her, stroking her, holding her close. When Dev came to bracket her from the
other side, he did the same, but Tansy just kept wailing. The sound was pain
given voice, wrenched from a part of her so deep it went past grief and sorrow.
Her mind was somewhere else. Rye suspected that no matter
how hard he squeezed her or how long he talked, Tansy wouldn’t hear him.
Rye was about to call down to the infirmary for help when
Tansy jerked upright in his arms. Then she jerked again. “Ow, ow, ow, ow.”
Clutching her head, she whipped around and glared in the direction of the lair.
Then she glared at Dev. “Your dragon is an asshole.”
Dev blinked, but to his credit he kept with her. “Yes, he
is. What did he do?”
“He bitch-slapped me.”
Tansy scrambled to her feet, pushed her way past Rye and
stalked toward the lair.
“What the hell just happened?” he asked.
“No idea.” Dev rolled to his feet, pulling Rye with him. “But
after that rapid and extreme mood change, I don’t think our battle dragons are
safe from our mate.”
Which in turn meant Tansy wasn’t safe. Pet or no pet, there
was only so much aggravation a dragon would tolerate before it turned and
snapped. Rye tried to link with Zenbaylan, but she shut him out. Judging by the
hard edge in Dev’s eyes it seemed he wasn’t faring any better with his dragon.
They ran to the lair and when they saw what awaited them
they skidded to a wary halt. Tansy was facing down—or rather up to—Fellescend
and Zenbaylan, her tiny frame dwarfed by the scaly bulk of the blacks.
Zenbaylan was too cool to read easily, but the smug self-righteousness coming
off Fellescend had alarms ringing loud and long in Rye’s head.
“What’s going on?” Dev’s question sounded more like panic
than demand.
Tansy turned on them, her brown eyes spitting fire. “Why don’t
you ask your fuckhead dragon?”
All the color drained from Dev’s face, and Rye knew his
complexion wasn’t any better. Rye made an attempt to get Tansy away from
snapping distance before it was too late. “Honey, how about you come over here
with us and we can sort this out?”
“No, I’m not going anywhere until that black, scaly bastard
gets what’s coming to him.”
Rye thought he’d seen all facets of Tansy, but this furious
virago was something new. And so much better than the frightened, broken woman
who’d been curled into a ball only moments ago. He much preferred the virago,
assuming they could keep her in one piece.
“Someone needs to tell us what’s going on,” he said.
Tansy turned to Fellescend, hands on hips. “Well?” The black
remained silent, and Tansy’s anger went up a notch. “No? Really?” She whirled
around to face Rye and Dev, putting her vulnerable back to the death-on-wings
behind her, and threw her arms out in frustration.
“I’ll tell you what happened. I just had one of the most
magical experiences of my life ruined,
fucking ruined
, by the bastard
who tortured and raped me. Those photos, that awful, graphic reminder of what
happened to me…” And her steam started to run out. Her voice lost its strident
edge and the pain came back into her eyes. “It was bad, and I’ve come so far,
and I never, ever wanted either of you to know…”
Rye’s throat closed and his eyes blurred. His heart hurt so
badly all he could think about was holding his mate close. “Come here.” He held
his arms out to her. “We love you. We’ll work it out.”
She started to cry, loud and messy but also clean and
cathartic. She took two steps toward them and she clutched her head again. “Ow,
ow, stop it for god’s sake!”
The moment she straightened, she whirled around and stalked
back to the sandpit. “That’s it, you big, black fucker. Get your
stick-it-where-it’s-not-needed nose down here this instant.”
Fellescend was leaning on his elbows but his head was still
a long way off the ground. He snorted at Tansy, enveloping her in a cloud of
smoke.
“I mean it, Fellescend. You need some re-education about how
to deal with human women.”
Fellescend smirked but finally lowered his head, no doubt
secure in the knowledge that this tiny human woman couldn’t hurt him. Tansy
waited until his nose was level with her chest and then she punched, him hard
and vicious, right between the nostrils.
“That’s for not giving me any sympathy when I was about to
have a nervous breakdown. Now get back down here and let me pay you back for
bitch-slapping me inside my head.”
Fellescend rubbed his nose, glaring at her with angry yellow
eyes while Zenbaylan watched Tansy with morbid fascination. Rye knew their time
had run out. Darting forward, he grabbed Tansy around the waist and dragged
her, literally kicking and screaming, to the door of the lair.
He sent an open message to his dragon.
Zenbaylan? Are you
ready to fill me in, or do you plan on letting my mate hurt even more?
We didn’t hurt her. Fellescend saved her.
How?
Tansy had quieted in his arms but Rye still held
her tight.
She shut us out again. Pets shouldn’t be able to do that.
After last time, we came up with a strategy to prevent such a thing happening
again.
A mental slap? That’s your strategy?
Rye had the
overwhelming urge to do some snout-punching of his own.
It worked.
This from an unrepentant Fellescend.
Our
pet didn’t break contact for long, and once her lapse was brought to her
attention, she came straight back into the link.
Rye could feel a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth,
and this situation was far from funny. Tucking Tansy even tighter into his arms—no
point aggravating her any more than he needed to—Rye caught Dev’s gaze. “Help?”
Dev’s face was solemn, but there was a twinkle in his eye
because sometimes even crazy dragon logic could save the day. He turned to the blacks,
raised his voice and went into mediator mode. “That was very quick thinking
today, from both of you.”
Tansy bucked in Rye’s arms, and he slapped his hand over her
mouth before she could shout out any more insults. Dev ignored the tussle and
kept his attention on the dragons.
“You brought Tansy back and re-secured the link, which is
good. But I think now might be an appropriate time for us to fine-tune that
strategy.”
Fellescend had been with Dev too long to take that statement
at face value. The dragons might not think like Enforcers but they were far
from stupid.
What alterations did you have in mind?
Fellescend’s
voice held an edge of wary suspicion.
“If Tansy drops out of the link when she’s with either Rye
or me, you don’t force her back unless we ask it of you.”
Agreed.
“And if you do have to take action, you do it with a lighter
touch than you used today.”
Zenbaylan sent to Rye on an intimate link, one to one.
That
is a mistake.
Why?
Pulling her back gently would resume the link but it
wouldn’t force her to move from despair to anger.
Rye had to admit that made sense. Those holos had shocked
Tansy to the core and brought back the memories and emotions of a horrifying
time. She could have stayed mired in that grief and powerlessness for weeks,
and there was a good chance none of them would have been able to reach her.
Battle dragons were naturally aggressive, and they
considered anger a normal, clean emotion. Get angry, burn off whatever it is
that ails you and move on. It was an obvious course of action for the blacks.
Luckily for them, Tansy was a fighter and getting head-slapped had made her
angry enough to pull out of her downward spiral. Rye wasn’t sure that strategy
would work on any of the other women—except perhaps Sorcha. But it had worked
on Tansy, and she was the only one for whom he was responsible.
I trust you,
he said to Zenbaylan.
I’ll leave it
up to you to determine how to call her back. But for my sake and yours, warn me
first.
She sent a spike of love and amusement down the link, and
then Rye had nothing to worry about but an armful of emotionally scrambled
woman. He kissed the top of her head. “Come back to the den. We can get
comfortable and sort ourselves out.”
Her sigh was shaky, and before she stepped completely out of
his arms, Dev moved in front of her, cupping her cheek. “Just so we’re clear,
nothing has changed between us.”
She nodded and her lower lip trembled.
“And while we’re being clear,” Dev continued, “I promise you
that Rye and I are going to kill Willersby fucking Lockmehdyhn. Faster than he
no doubt deserves, but just as dead.”
Tansy reached up and laid her hand over Rye’s. “Right this
minute, I’m totally okay with that.”
Dev leaned in for a kiss that was all tenderness. “Let’s get
comfortable so we can start plotting.”
Rye’s heart almost swelled out of his chest when his brave little
mate took each of them by the hand and led them back into the den.