He rose. “Dragon rash.”
“Huh?”
“Started when you were about thirteen?”
“Yeah.”
“Kicks up when you’re stressed. I bet it was driving you mad when I Catalyzed—turned Dragon—in the library.”
“Well, yeah.”
He stroked his own dragon tattoo. “It’s the part of you that’s Dragon. And it’s literally itching to come out.”
“It sounds like there’s a creature inside me. I’m having flashbacks of that Alien movie when the baby alien bursts out of that guy’s stomach.”
“It’s not like that. It has no physical form outside of you.”
Her eyes widened. “I’m going to have a tattoo like that?”
“It’s not a tattoo, but it passes for one. It’s just below your skin’s surface.” He wrapped his hand around her waist where the rash was. “We hold the essence of our Dragon inside us. Though we are mostly human, the Dragon is all animal. Once Awakened, it will pull at you to release it. To act on its impulses.”
She lifted her face to his, feeling the heat from his body, from his words, envelop her. “Impulses,” she heard herself repeat.
His fingers tightened on her skin, and he lowered his mouth just a little closer to hers. “It responds to stimuli like food, conflict…lust. When it wants something, it will goad and seduce you. It speaks to you telepathically, simple words like mine and want.” He let those words sink in.
And they did, like warm honey soaking into her skin. “Mine,” she repeated, feeling it thrum through her. “Want.”
“Mmm-hmm. And hungry.”
“Hungry,” she said, spellbound.
“And not for food.” His voice grew soft and low, his eyes hooded. “You’ll feel it through your whole body, hear the siren song in your mind.”
Yes, she heard it, felt it. Her body began to sag toward him, wanting to feel him against her. The spell! Just like the spell the Dragon Prince wove around Garnet. Ruby stepped away, pulling down her shirt. “It sounds like being possessed.”
He ran his hand back through his hair and cleared his throat. “It can be if you let it get the best of you. The Dragon has no reasoning skills, fears no consequences. If we let it control us, we pay the consequences.”
“Oh, great.” She realized she was scratching again. “The rash has been a lot worse since…well, since I’ve been around you.”
“Your Dragon is responding to mine. It aches to be free. That’s why I have this room, so I can let the beast run. I created the Obsidian Room so others can release it safely.”
Yes, something inside her was responding to him. She studied his tattoo, remembering how it had blinked when he’d done that Veil-lifting thing at his office. “I saw your Dragon move.”
He walked to a cabinet built into the far wall. The pants he wore reminded her of karate uniforms she’d seen, only the material was soft and did amazing things for his ass. It didn’t hurt that he had a fine one, combined with the walk of a man comfortable in his skin. No matter what skin that was.
“They can move, but they won’t crawl off you or down your leg or anything. Mostly they keep an eye on things.”
If only she could go back to the time when she thought it was mystery eczema.
He set several thick, short candles on the floor against the back wall. She wondered if he’d Breathe on the wicks to light them, but no, he used a lighter. Could he Breathe fire? Could she?
He turned on a stereo system and cranked what sounded like old rock and roll. She had a fleeting thought to run, get the hell out while she was still normal and human and…
You’re not normal. Never were.
“Have any Red Hot Chili Peppers in there?” she asked instead, hearing a quiver in her voice.
“Nope. I tend to like the classic rock and metal music. Elvis was all right, but I started really enjoying music in the sixties and seventies.”
He was around when Elvis got his start. Wow. Just…wow.
“So my parents were Dragons?”
“Your mother was Dragon. Moncrief, your grandfather, and your father were Deuces. Descendents inherit only one aspect. Generally, the different types of Crescents don’t intermingle, but love doesn’t always make sense.” He let his gaze settle on her for a moment before his expression reverted to the business at hand. “Time to start. You need to submit to me. To my will.”
She anchored her hands on her hips. “Oh, this is the part where I would have been more malleable had you gotten your hands on me when I was thirteen.”
“I wasn’t ‘getting my hands’ on you.”
“I didn’t mean it that way.” He probably wanted a woman more experienced in the ways of Dragon. And likely other things. “But I’m not submitting to you.”
He put his hands on her shoulders. “Ruby, as your sworn protector, I will lay my life on the line for you.” His words shivered through her because she heard the devotion in them. “But you have to do your part. You have to grow into your strength and power and out of your tough façade.”
“What do you mean, façade?”
He drew his finger from her shoulder to her collarbone, where he made tiny circles. “Your real strength lies here, in your Dragon. I’m your way of reaching that.”
She so did not like needing him. “I am tough. I didn’t crumble in fear when that damned orb was chasing me or when I saw a friggin’ demon.”
Damn it, his smile reeked of patronization. “You are tougher than most would be in your position. Now you have to get tougher.”
“I get images of you forcing me to kiss your boot.” Her eyebrows furrowed. “Or someplace even more degrading.”
His mouth twitched. “Interesting image. The more degrading place.”
She slapped his finger away. He laughed, irritating her even more because he never reacted the way she expected. Reminding her of the Dragon Prince on his wedding day.
“I don’t need to force you to do petty acts to assuage my need for dominance. Submitting is an act of strength, not weakness. In the beginning, with your Dragon Awakened, it’ll feel like riding a bucking bronco. Hold on tight. I’ll be Dragon, too, and if I need to, I’ll hold you down. Or knock you on your ass. I won’t let you hurt yourself, or me, if you’re out of control.”
All her life she’d done everything to be in control. Never drinking to excess, not doing drugs, being her own boss. Now she might lose it completely.
Her throat felt as though she’d swallowed sand. “How do I become human again?”
“You will it. You’re the master. I suggest you remove your clothes now and set them in a neat pile so you can get to them easily when you Catalyze back. I’ll cover my eyes.” He gave her such a condescending smile that she narrowed her eyes. He chuckled. “You have fire. Good. You’ll need it.”
Déjà vu smacked her in the chest. She’d heard those words before, before the Dragon Prince enabled the spell. More bits were coming back—because they were living them.
He removed his pants and set them with his shirt. Not a speck of modesty. She watched him walk away, the candlelight gilding his glutes, and when he started to turn, she glanced down. Did he have to be achingly beautiful?
He faced away and covered his eyes with one hand. Her gaze drifted down wide shoulders that tapered to a narrow waist, his exquisite ass, and then strong legs dusted with hair as dark as the hair on his head. And the Dragon climbing up his back. Her gaze drifted to the mirror’s reflection where she could see the front of him. His closed eyes and strong chin, the Dragon watching her…
“Ready?” he asked.