Billionaire Dragon's Mate: BBW Paranormal Shapeshifter Dragon Romance Nove (6 page)

And then, of course, there was the delicate matter of his younger brother Carrick and his utter lack of belief in Cillian’s strength as the elder of their kin. While Cillian spent his time in the Americas, Carrick had gone back to the fatherland after their parents died, and from what Cillian could tell, his little brother had become quite fond of the ancient family folklore.

Apparently, one Greenmeadow dragon was destined to rise up at the family’s time of greatest need and restore their bounty along with their name, lifting them up from the ashes. All very dramatic, but Carrick seemed to have a point. These were troubling times. However, Carrick wasn’t the first dragon to plot against his elder. It had not been long since Remington Redblade was ousted from his position and lost his seat to his younger brother Romulus.

It was almost unheard of but not impossible, and it had caused quite a stir in dragon circles, creating tension within families and making brother turn against brother. Of course, the Redblades were somewhat of a difficult case. They’d always been warmongers, and Romulus was no different. Now that Remington was gone, Cillian had to admit that though he had had his issues, he had actually seemed almost tolerable next to his wild-eyed, yet curiously reserved little brother. Peculiar.

Cillian had expected Carrick to rebel against him for a while now, and in light of what had happened lately, perhaps even challenge him to a duel for the position. Cillian crinkled his nose at the thought. Unless his baby brother intended to actually slay him, or he somehow managed to disgrace the bloodline so thoroughly that every single Greenmeadow agreed he should be removed from his position as elder, Cillian wouldn’t be wrenched off the proverbial gold pile that easily.

That is, if he managed to form the royal bond – the bond between a dragon and his mate that signified to his forefathers that he was ready to lead, to control, to grow and to have others grow with him.

But that required a mate, and a mate he did not have. When he thought of the word, Ruby’s face immediately popped into his mind. He shooed that pleasant mental image away as quickly as he could, the uncomfortable truth of her being well out of his reach far too distasteful to stomach. Until he was married under the gold moon, Carrick only had to show up at his door, breath some fire in his face and tell him to either battle him or be swept under the rug and live a life reserved for failures and hacks.

The sun must have been up already, but it didn’t matter – the blinds kept all the light out and all the dark in, just like Cillian preferred it. He stared at the ceiling, weighing his options in an endless circle of pick-the-least-crappy-bad-choice.

Did he want Carrick to challenge him? He’d always known that the burden of carrying the Greenmeadow name would be his to bear – his father had never allowed him to forget that even for a moment. But somehow, he’d still managed to put it aside and lock it away with all the other things he didn’t want to deal with. The time he’d managed to spend away from his parents’ watchful eyes in his youth had been spent chasing one thrill after another and finding more and more elaborate ways for driving his traditionalist parents up the wall.

So, wasn’t it a bit ironic that he was now the one expected to keep the Greenmeadow name in good standing?

You
are
doing it by fixing other people’s lives. Is it so damn hard to fix yours?
Cillian mused, closing his eyes.

Another sleepless night spent pondering on questions without an answer in sight. But, as always, his belief that things would work themselves out remained forever unrattled.

***

The bike roared through the Chicago streets, catching a glance or two every now and then, but their helmets hid their identities and wrapped them in a safe cocoon of anonymity. Cillian liked the way Ruby’s hands clung to him tightly, squeezing just a little bit too hard. She’d admitted she’d never been on a superbike before, and a Fireblade was a far cry from a relatively comfy, leisurely chopper. It was the only thing he could ride that would give him any kind of a rush.

Flying from point A to point B wasn’t the most sensible thing, what with most of mankind still safely unaware that dragons even existed outside of children’s fairy tales (not to mention them controlling a sizeable portion of the world’s wealth and being capable of making just about anything happen by throwing substantially large wads of cash at it). That was the one thing he missed about being in Emerald Ridge – no one would even bat an eye if a giant, green and gold dragon suddenly swooped over their house so low it could almost knock over chimneys.

His mind had been racing all morning, trying to figure out a way to make everything alright. The more time he spent around Ruby, the less inclined he was to return her to her parents – it felt like he was offering up a part of his own hoard to be gobbled up by people who could never understand her value. It pained him. His dragon was adamant about forsaking his human form, tossing her on his back and making a break for Emerald Ridge. That way he’d have plenty of time to unravel the mess that were his feelings towards the little mob princess long before Antonio Accardo and Sergei could track him down.

All that didn’t take into account Ruby’s personal opinions on the matter, but Cillian was getting a vibe from her that she wasn’t exactly looking forward to her family reunion either. Perhaps she even liked being around him a little. The way she’d looked at his body when they got up in the morning and he padded around the kitchen with nothing on but the sweatpants and his gold chains and cuffs certainly signaled that she might be interested in purchasing, not just perusing.

He chose to ignore the fact that she might just have been looking at him that way because most of his wounds had magically healed up and he was fit as a fiddle again. Ignorance was bliss in that regard, and he liked his version of the story better.

He could sense her becoming more and more nervous as they closed in on the bar he’d met Sergei and her father in. It was early in the afternoon, so the place would be deserted. Cillian pulled up on the curb outside the bar and shut off the engine.

Reluctantly, Ruby unlatched herself from him, and he cringed a little as she let go. Good thing he had the helmet on. It was silly, really. He’d never bought into the whole fated mate thing, and he barely knew this woman. Cillian was a handsome guy, and he’d messed around with plenty of gorgeous women in his days, but this one was special. This one made his dragon roar with desire, and the man… well, he wanted her. Badly.

He took off the helmet, careful to wipe away any trace of the disappointment he was feeling at having to let her go, and put it on the seat behind him. She was pulling off her helmet as well, and her long auburn hair cascaded down her shoulders in lush waves. Her name suited her perfectly. She was a jewel, alright.

“So, I guess this is it,” Ruby said with a sigh, taking off his jacket.

He’d leant it to her for the drive so she wouldn’t get cold. He got off the bike and put it on, taking a moment to admire the way she looked. She’d stitched up the skirt, and he’d given her one of his dress-shirts so she wouldn’t appall her father’s sensitivities by looking like a hot piece of ass instead of a good, well-behaved Italian woman on her way to becoming a doctor.

“I guess so,” he agreed with a smirk, though the little hint of sadness in his tone wasn’t lost on him. “Come on, let’s get this over with. I’m sure it won’t be as bad as you think it will.”

Liar, it’s going to be fucking horrific,
he mused darkly, putting a protective hand on her lower back and walking her towards the back entrance.

Even in her high heels, she still only reached to his shoulder. She was positively tiny next to him, even with those ample curves of hers that robbed him of his sleep and made him dream of her. Dragons above, it was torture being so near to her and knowing he’d have to let her go. Even now, his mind raced, looking for ways to extend this little meeting.

Much to Cillian’s chagrin, the door opened immediately, and he walked her in. She trembled a little. Apparently pissing off daddy dearest was a big thing in the Accardo household, and no wonder, if said father was nicknamed the Butcher of Chicago. They passed through the dark corridor and emerged in the VIP area. This time, the club looked positively eerie with not a person in sight, save for a waitress polishing some tabletops at the far end of the bar. Without the flashing lights and sweaty bodies, the place looked drab – but didn’t they all.

“It’ll be okay,” he murmured, hopefully bolstering her spirits a little.

“Ruby!” Antonio’s voice called, obviously relieved.

Cillian took his hand off of her and felt a sharp jab go through his heart at having her out of his reach. His effervescent smirk was wiped from his face.

Antonio met them halfway and pulled Ruby into a quick hug, pecking her on both cheeks.

“Hello, papa,” she said, her voice resigned.

“You had me and your mother worried sick, Ruby!” Antonio gave her a sharp look before letting her go and reaching his hand out to Cillian, who took it with more than a little remorse. “Thank you for bringing her back to me.”

“It’s what I do,” Cillian remarked with a shadow of a grin.

They were shown into a booth that already seated Sergei, though the old bear didn’t look anywhere near as jolly as he usually did. In fact, he looked angry, furious even – another man with a problem. “What’s going on?” Cillian asked, frowning at Sergei’s sour mood. Antonio and Sergei exchanged glances, and Ruby took the moment to slide into the seat next to Cillian rather than her father. He appreciated the gesture.

“Cable Bloodhowl is the problem.” Sergei almost spat his name out.

“Yeah? I thought he wouldn’t be causing any trouble for a while after the ass kicking I gave him. What did he do now?”

“He hit up one of my transports last night, or his boys did, anyway. Decked three carriers, set fire to the load. And they made another run at one of Antonio’s crews this morning. I guess they must have asked around and figured out you worked for me. Cable even sent us a note.” Sergei eyed Antonio grimly.

The hardened Italian wore that implacable look he tended to have and turned his steely eyes to his daughter. Cillian had to resist the urge to grab her hand and tell her everything would soon be fine again.

“He told us to return his fiancée or he wouldn’t stop before Chicago was in ruins. Anything you want to tell me, Ruby?”

“Um. I didn’t ask for it. I didn’t even fucking agree to it! He just shoved a ring on my finger and said we were going to marry during the gold moon. Cillian was there, he can back me up!” Ruby protested, color rising to her cheeks.

Damn, she looked cute when she was angry. Cillian nodded, looking at Antonio and then Sergei.

“That did happen, yup.”

“So let me get this straight. My daughter thought she would go and have a little adventure with some werewolf asshat, who is now going through both mine and Sergei’s businesses, rampaging and looting until I give him back his fiancée, who happens to be said daughter?! Ruby, the mess you’ve made this time…”

Cillian watched as Ruby cast her eyes downward, and he could see tears starting to well up in them. Hell, that wasn’t right. The only one who should be allowed to make her cry was… no one. Well, maybe him, but only the good kind of tears. His dragon growled with irritation, clawing to be let out.

“So what are we going to do to clean this mess up? They’re engaged to be married during the gold moon, that just doesn’t go away,” Sergei said.

The Russian bear was right. Promises to wed during the gold moon weren’t taken lightly among shifters. Each race had their own traditions, but most around the Chicago area believed that breaking an oath like that would not only be a sign of weakness on the part of the shifter, but would see him driven from his pack. Cable wouldn’t just give up. Suddenly, an idea formed in Cillian’s head.

His worried scowl turned into a sly grin, and he glanced over at Ruby. Sergei and Antonio were no longer paying attention to them – they were already deep in discussion about the possible solutions, most of which included killing every last werewolf they could find.

“Do you trust me?” he asked, his emerald eyes meeting her hazels. She glowered at him, her long lashes fluttering. Gorgeous.

“No. But I trust you more than I trust Cable or my father, so that’s something.”

She looked like she was about to say something else, but thought better of it at the last moment. Cillian had to wonder if that something she hadn’t said to him was that she trusted him more than herself. Funny how he could get a vibe like that from her from just the tilt of her head, the purse of her lips and the look in her maddeningly inviting eyes.