Dragon Seeker Part Two Read online

  “If you’re my Seeker, you know perfectly well what that means. Neko was Lumen’s Seeker, and they’re bonded. They’re lovers. And my God, I wish you and I could follow in their footsteps, more badly than you could possibly know. Every time I lay my eyes on you I feel tormented by my fate. I feel angry at the world, happy to be near you, and deeply sad, all at once.

  “You know what happens when a Dragon shifter is with a human; one of our kind enhances his mate. At least he’s supposed to. But think about it, Beatrix: I wouldn’t give you gifts. I’m broken. I broke the day I went barreling into the ocean, and I would ruin you forever. I would destroy your life so fast that it would make your head spin, and you’d learn very quickly to hate me for it.”

  Truth

  When Trix had finished reading, her eyes met his. And for the first time, she heard the sound that she’d craved.

  Lyre’s voice.

  Not the one that had resonated inside her head, but the actual physical vibrations of his vocal cords. From his mouth to her ears. The words were slightly muffled, the consonants a little fuzzy for lack of practice. But he spoke, opening himself up to a fear he’d probably held in his heart for many years.

  “I could never live with myself if I broke you.”

  And then he turned away to hide his pain, pressing a hand to the wall, the other moving to his face, his shoulders hunched.

  Trix’s pounding chest began to ache. But not for herself, not this time. This time it was only for him. At last it all made sense; the pain he must be feeling, the loneliness he must have always felt, isolating himself from intimacy like this. She’d thought that maybe he only felt unworthy of her because of his disability. But it had never occurred to her for a moment that he was afraid he’d inflict it on her. He was protecting her from himself. And to think it was such a well-guarded secret that even Minach didn’t know the true reason that he insisted on remaining alone.

  She stepped towards him, laying a hand flat on the centre of his back, and when he didn’t resist, she let it slip around to his waist. Slowly, easing her arms forward, she wrapped herself about him, pressing her cheek to his shoulder blade as her hands found his chest. His muscles tensed under her touch, his body stubbornly refusing to relax into her fingertips. Keeping his distance through the rigidity of his muscles, he shielded himself against the dangerous potential of affection.

  But she was strong—perhaps, in some ways, even stronger than he was. She didn’t share his fear, and she refused to submit to his rejection again. So she slipped around to stand in front of him, her hands moving with her, guiding themselves around his waist as her eyes looked up into his.

  “So that’s really what you’re afraid of?” she whispered. “That I’ll lose my hearing like you did if we’re together? You’re really pushing me away for my own sake?”

  He nodded as he read the words on her lips, his eyes so filled with sorrow that she wanted to hold him and never let go.

  “But how likely is that to happen?” she asked. “I mean, do you have any reason to think I would really go…deaf?”

  He frowned before mouthing a reply back to her. This time no sound came out, but he somehow managed to articulate clearly with his lips in the softest whisper. “I don’t know. But I can’t take the risk, however small. I could never do that to you. You’re my beautiful Beatrix.”

  She read the syllables, fully able to understand his meaning, her heart filling with waves of warmth and sorrow. His eyes were so sad. So kind.

  “Lyre,” she said, inching forward.

  She couldn’t let him retreat again. Not without telling him exactly how she felt, and not when they were so close. And when her face was only a few inches from his, she lay a hand on his chest and pressed her palm into his left pectoral muscle, feeling a powerful heartbeat under her touch. “Maybe if you and I are together, something bad will happen. But for the record, my ears don’t matter nearly so much to me as you might think,” she said, eyes fixed on his.

  The Dragon shifter’s gaze was focused on her lips, reading their every movement, every syllable. “I can’t hear your heart, you know,” she continued. “But I know it’s there. I can feel it, and even if I couldn’t, I’ve known all along how big, how sweet, how beautiful it is. I know it’s beating whether I hear it or not, and that maybe it’s beating just a little faster now, because I’m here.” She moved her hand to his stubbled cheek, cradling it with her palm. “I can’t hear you breathe, but I know you do. And even though it’s completely mad to say it, ever since I met you all that matters to me in this world is to know that you’re out there, somewhere, your heart beating, breath moving through your body. That’s all I really care about. Something has happened to me, like a sickness. And I don’t want to be cured. So please, don’t force your cure on me.”

  She could see him taking in her words, even as heat surged through his body to meet her touch. He heard her, even if it wasn’t via his ears. He understood. And for the briefest, sweetest moment, she thought he might finally allow his lips to meet hers.

  But then he tensed again, an invisible, brutal battle fighting its way through him. One that he had to fight on his own. And she could see that all the words in the world weren’t going to bring him round.

  Letting out a heavy breath, he took the phone and typed rapidly before holding it up to show her what he’d written.

  “It’s easy to say these things. It’s easy to think you know what you want, but the truth is that you have no idea how awful it would be. You’re a Hunter; that life is in your blood. With no hearing you’d be lost. And I will not do that to you—break you—for my own selfish reasons. Or for anything. Even if everything inside of me tells me that you and I are meant to be one.”

  “I don’t know what more to tell you,” Trix said in protest. “But I can tell you what I do know: You would enhance me, Lyre. I’m certain that you would.”

  “No, you don’t know that. You can’t possibly know with any confidence. No one can,” he wrote. Damn it, he was pulling away again. Protecting her when she didn’t need or want protection. All she wanted was to know that he felt what she did.

  “Well, fuck,” she said. “No one knows anything for certain. I also don’t know that the cliff this cottage is sitting on won’t fall into the water in five minutes and that we won’t both die horribly. But even if I did know, I can tell you this: I’d rather spend those five minutes with you than anywhere else in the world. So stop protecting me. Stop trying to rescue me from myself, from my fate, from what I want most.”

  Lyre allowed the faintest, warmest smile to cross those gorgeous lips of his, and this time it lingered. Encouraged, Trix continued.

  “Let me take this risk with you,” she said softly. “If you knew how badly I wanted you…how much it hurts to think of walking away again…I’d rather lose my hearing and be one with you than go home without you and lose you. If something bad happens, at least I’ll have you, and you’ll have me. But if you push me away again, we will always be lonely for each other. Always. I know it in the deepest part of my heart. You say you’re afraid of ruining me, but the truth is that you already have. Whether or not I lose a sense, whether or not you and I have a harder time communicating than some—I don’t care about any of that. I can’t imagine returning to my old life now. I want your voice inside my head, inside my body. I don’t care if it never makes its way to my ears again. I want to bond with you. I want you.”

  Her hand was around his neck now, and there was no question of what she wanted. No question, either, of what he wanted. She could feel his rigid length pressing against her. His scent danced in ribbons about her head, a mist of desire drawing her in. This was his Dragon at work, luring her. Claiming what was rightfully his.

  But once again, the man fought the beast inside him, dashing its hopes as he forced it to submit to his will.

  No. This can’t be.

  He pulled away, the look in his blue eyes altering to one of devastation.

  �
�We can’t be together. Please…try to understand. For your good and mine.” Tortured words, whispered by the shattered Dragon shifter.

  And with that he turned and left, shutting the door behind him.

  She wanted to go after him, to protest again. To tell him that he was wrong, that somehow it would all be fine. But she had nothing left in her. And there was nothing left to say. It was now entirely in his hands to decide their fate, and it looked as though he’d made his choice.

  A part of Trix couldn’t help but feel a little surge of joy to know that he cared, and deeply. So much that he was willing to sacrifice his own happiness for her sake. He was as good a man as she’d ever hoped for.

  But somehow, knowing it made it even harder to let him go.

  Defeated, too tired to even shed another tear, Trix pulled off her clothing and crawled under the bed’s covers. She had no idea how she’d sleep tonight, or ever again for that matter. So close. She’d come so close to being with him. And he’d torn himself away from her.

  As she finally began to drift off, she wondered if she would ever be happy again.

  Surrender

  Lyre stared up at the old plaster ceiling in his bedroom, following the lines of a crack that had been there for as long as he could remember. The flaw in the house made it no less wonderful, no less appealing. If anything, it enhanced the cottage’s beauty and reminded him of all that the old place had been through. The ground beneath its foundations had shifted, but the cottage had remained strong, holding its own against the forces of nature.

  If only he could be so strong.

  He’d told himself time and time again that he’d long since accepted his own most massive flaw. But whether he had or not, he couldn’t inflict it on her. Not on perfect Beatrix. He wasn’t a cruel man, or a selfish one, and would have happily lived with the pain of eternal loneliness, rather than bring her down with him.

  She thought she could take it—that she could accept him, even if he destroyed her. But she was wrong. She would resent him, whether she understood that or not. She would grow to hate him over time. And what sort of relationship would that be? It would be a waking nightmare for them both. At least this way, he could love her from afar. Watch her develop as a Hunter, and perhaps one day he could find a way to be happy for her when she found someone worthy of her.

  But it wouldn’t be him. Lyre was of no use to anyone as a mate. His life was a bleak cycle of perpetual silence, his existence isolated from within the confines of a strange, white room with translucent walls, as he watched the world go about its business around him. Strangers averted their eyes, avoiding his own once they realized that he was an oddity. People never wanted to get close. He was just too much fucking work.

  Beatrix was different, though. She didn’t give a toss about the extra work, the extra hours that might be required to learn to speak to him. She didn’t seem too concerned that his words sometimes came from an electronic device. She only cared that they were his words.

  He knew it all, he could feel the affection radiating from her. The pain, the sorrow, the joy she felt around him. Because he felt it too. His heart had been so full the night before, when they’d sat together and shared their stories. She’d given him a feeling that no other person ever had. Almost the same feeling that this cottage provided, of shelter, and of home. She was home, and yet like an idiot, he would bring her far away tomorrow and leave her there. He would discard his beautiful new shelter. All because he didn’t deserve its comforts, because he didn’t want to break it down, to destroy its perfection.

  And as he began to fall asleep at last, he reminded himself that it was the only thing he could do.

  * * *

  When he awoke around eight a.m. he showered, dressed and walked down the stairs to find that Trix was already sitting at the kitchen table, fully dressed, coat in hand. Her sword and bag were at her side. She’d gotten the message, and she wasn’t going to put up a struggle. Good. That would make this so much easier.

  Lyre grabbed a coffee mug and held it up, pointing at it. A casual gesture from a host to his guest.

  “Coffee? No,” she said. “I think that if we’re to do this, we should just do it. If I can’t be with you, I don’t want to stay here a moment longer than I have to.”

  Lyre nodded solemnly as he watched her rise to her feet and head towards the front door. God, she was beautiful. Even in her brooding state. Even when ice hung heavy from her heart.

  When they were both outside he shut the door behind him, extracting a set of keys from his pocket. But as he fiddled with the fussy and ancient locking mechanism, Trix grabbed his arm.

  “No. Don’t do this,” he thought, his heart sinking. “Don’t try to change my mind.”

  But when he turned to look at her, he could see that her eyes weren’t focused on him. Instead they were directed up towards the sky, where a massive red Dragon was beginning its descent towards them.

  “Do you know him?” Trix asked when she’d made eye contact. Lyre nodded before cupping his hands in front of his chest to communicate that it wasn’t a him at all. And yes. He knew her.

  “Oh…her?” Trix said. “It…she’s a female?” She watched the graceful creature glide downward. The Dragon was almost as big as Lyre’s, but there was really no way to discern gender if one didn’t already know; she looked just like any other Dragon that Trix had seen, other than her unique colouring.

  Trix only knew of one female Dragon shifter. A Guild member called Tryst whose red hair resembled her own, though little else about her bore any similarity to the Hunter. Tryst was serious, surly, and kept largely to herself. On the day when the Dragons had flown the Hunters to Hampstead Heath, she’d refused to allow any human to ride her, not wishing to degrade herself to the level of public transit. She was a proud shifter, to say the least.

  The Dragon came to a soft landing nearby, its scales various shades of metallic crimson and copper. Shifting as she moved towards them into Tryst’s human form, wearing a long red skirt that trailed on the ground and an ivory silk blouse. She walked in long, determined strides, staring straight at Lyre, who tightened visibly under her gaze.

  “What’s she doing here?” Trix asked, but Lyre wasn’t looking in her direction. His eyes and mind were fixed on the approaching woman.

  The female Dragon shifter stopped walking at last, and turned to Trix for a moment. “I apologize for my unannounced visit,” she said, her tone curt. “There is something I need to say to this one. Lumen told me I’d find him here.”

  But she didn’t expand on the reason for her trip. Instead, she put a hand on Lyre’s left cheek, closing her eyes, and he automatically followed suit, sealing his own eyelids. Trix knew what was happening; somehow they were speaking through their minds, as she’d done with him when he was in his Dragon form. A sudden rush of possessiveness flowed through her to see another woman touch him, speak so intimately to him. But she told herself to calm down; this probably wasn’t a romantic conversation.

  Lyre’s face was tense and serious, his breaths growing quick and shallow in his chest as Tryst conveyed whatever it was that she was telling him.

  Finally, their odd communication session ended. They both opened their eyes and Tryst pulled her hand away, letting it drop to her side. She seemed tired, suddenly, as though she’d run a mile in thirty seconds. The blood had drained from her face, perspiration beading on her brow and chin.

  Lyre signed something to her, his gaze intense.

  “He’s asking me if what I showed him is the truth,” the Dragon shifter told Trix, her voice scoffing, annoyed. “Yes, it’s bloody true,” she said, redirecting her gaze towards Lyre. “I saw it. The question is, what will you do about it?”

  The faintest hint of a smile showed itself on Lyre’s lips then. But as always, it disappeared within seconds as he began to sign again.

  “Yes, yes. You’re welcome,” Tryst said. “Now, stop being an idiot and get on with it. Do your duty. I know you want to, you st
ubborn arse.” With that, she turned to walk back the way she’d come.

  The Hunter stood back, confused by everything that had transpired between the two shifters, and waited for Lyre to tell her what was going on. But only when Tryst had shifted and her massive Dragon had launched into the skies did Lyre finally turn to the woman at his side. Without so much as a nod, he unlocked the door again and went back into the cottage. Trix followed, even more confused than before as she watched him move into the kitchen, pulling out his phone to type. A moment later he held it up for her:

  “Did you mean everything you told me last night? And more importantly, can you ever forgive me for being such a stupid bastard?”

  Where on earth had this come from?

  Trix took a step back, trying to assess the situation but hesitant to get too close. Did she dare hope that something had changed in the last few minutes? That somehow, the visiting Dragon shifter had convinced him that he could be with her?

  “What are you saying?” she murmured.

  More typing. “Tryst came here to tell me about a vision she’d had. Of you and me. In it she’d seen the future—one part of it, at least, and we were together. Bonded. Nothing bad had happened to you, and we…we were even happy.”

  Fire danced in Trix’s chest. Could it really be that Tryst was the key to her—and his—happiness? “But…is that enough to convince you…” Trix began, hesitant to let herself hope. Hope had nearly done her in once already.

  Lyre stepped closer to her, his deep blue eyes searching hers. He put a hand on her cheek, just as Tryst had done with him, and she shut her eyes, understanding what he was asking of her. A moment later she saw a series of images: Lyre, walking up a green hill towards her, laughing. Both of them in a dark room of grey stone, kissing passionately. Outside on the grass by the cliff, deep in silent communication.