Mystical Mayhem (2 page)

Once they hit a flat surface, the beast dipped and shook until she rolled down a wing, bouncing when she hit a soft mattress. Pain riveted her to the spot where her body had fallen. Breathing harshly around the fear and excitement only caused more tension to stiffen in her limbs, so she tried to focus on something, anything. She found her bearings and looked up, only to come face to face with a naked man at the foot of her bed.

“You’re safe. I won’t touch you or harm you. Don’t call your Dragon yet. I can still feel the witch’s magick on you. It stinks of malignant intent. I need to get those ties off your arms and tend to your wounds. Do I have your permission?”

When she nodded, he grabbed the blanket crumpled up at the bottom of the bed and tossed it over her naked form. She froze, watching him even as her body warmed, feeling like it was coming back to life. Moving fast, he pulled worn jeans up over his solid butt. She’d gotten a good look. In fact Aiyanna believed the sight of his semi-erect cock standing out from his angular hipbones and muscular thighs, would be forever burned into her memory. And she was more than a little disappointed to find the sight hidden from her. The man grabbed a satchel off the chest against the wall. Aiyanna couldn’t help but be conscious of her nakedness, even covered up – no longer as a victim, but as a woman, when he came over and sat near her on the edge of the bed.

“How do you know what I am?” she asked, trying to figure him out. Few in this world knew of her Dragon. In fact, none outside of her own reservation had the knowledge, that she knew of…

“I know of your tribe. The rumors about you are pretty phenomenal.” He winked.

“Rumors? My tribe. Are they okay?”

“Yes, your people are all fine, other than worried sick about you. I felt your distress, and went to your reservation first. All anyone knew was that you were gone. Someone had heard a noise, a struggle, and gone outside in time to see three large birds fly away with you. I promised them I would find you. As soon as you are better, I will inform them you are well. I don’t want to move you yet.”

She sighed. Relief, the warm blanket that relaxed her mind, was ripped away as she realized, “There are rumors? About me? About my Dragon?”

“No worries. They are only among the elite of our kind.”

“Our kind? The elite?” Everything he said brought more questions until she felt like a sheltered child. That just would not do. “Explain,” she demanded.

“Those with gifts, what others would refer to as paranormal, like shifters and witches, a woman with a Dragon Spirit she can actually manifest into. And, yes, there are elites, forming right now. In fact, from what I hear, inside our own government, which denies our very existence. These are not things for you to be thinking on now though. You have been through quite an ordeal; I can only imagine the extent from what little I saw.”

His abdominal muscles, so close to her face, rippled with each of his breaths, and more profoundly with each of his small movements. Tonight had her every instinct, whether female or magickal or Dragon, all messed up. What her body was feeling, needing, lusting for, unsettled her in ways indefinable as yet. Her stomach rolled and clenched. She ached to reach out, to be held. Her fingers tingled to touch him. All of this could be explained away by any of several different ways. The fact that was most puzzling, especially given the night she’d had and her injuries, was the wetness at her core, the pulsing of her womanhood.

She started though, her perplexing physical reactions for a moment derailed, when he produced a knife.

“Please don’t be afraid of me,” his deep voice begged as he cut through the ropes binding her. Each movement brought a new wave of pain. Reality crashed into and washed over her, making her focus on more important matters like healing herself. With her Dragon still stifled, her abilities to heal herself faster than a normal mere mortal woman were also diminished.

She hissed and a sound somewhere between a warning and a whimper emanated from deep in her throat. She couldn’t understand what it was about him that allayed her need to call to her Dragon for protection. It wasn’t like the spell that was even now still fading from her. She was choosing to not call the beast. She forced her body to relax even though her injuries were still torture, each wound still burning. But why? She felt completely safe, and had no clue how that could be.

“I know I’m hurting you. I’m sorry. I have to get these off. I have healing herbs that should assist your own accelerated abilities to heal. My mother’s recipes. I always keep them on hand.”

While he worked, cleaning her torn wrists with water, she struggled to stay conscious. Thoughts came and went with the waves of her suffering. Here sat the legend. He was a superhero among shifters, and he had saved her. Muscles upon muscles rippled as he moved over her. Shaggy shoulder length, brown hair, lightened by the sun, haloed his face. Green eyes glistened, golden flecks sparkling within them. Scruffy, short-clipped facial hair completed what she viewed as a perfect picture.

“I know these packs will feel weird at first. There may be sharp, stinging sensations, but soon they will tingle and start to heal. Each bundle has been crafted and spelled. It is the magick you will feel – like fire around the wounds. But, I promise that won’t last long.”

She tried not to moan as he wrapped the wet packets, filled with strong smelling herbs around her wrists. Though she could feel her Dragon, strong and stable, he remained oddly elusive. It seemed strange that the witch’s spell hadn’t worn off yet. There had to be an explanation, but damned if she could come up with one. Despite the fact that her arms ached from holding her weight earlier, she kept them above her head. She tried to block out the sensation, disconnect from the feeling of flames burning her flesh. Tears leaked from her eyes, and she cursed them. All night long she’d been made to feel weak. She hated it. Still, a part of her wanted nothing more than to curl up in this man’s arms.

The thought of being here, in his cave, made her breath hitch. Rumors of this legend who sat here beside her ran through her mind. The thoughts made her feel even more lightheaded as her situation hit her little by little, like damned bricks thrown at her head.

“I’m sorry,” the man said, sliding off the bed. He turned to her, wiping the tears from her cheeks. His touch was gentle, making her stupid heart race. His face was so close to hers for a moment, she thought to wish for a kiss. Ridiculous! Stop it! Hero worship; that has to be it! Though she had only heard the expression, this must be how it felt.

His touch was warm and comforting despite the size of his hands. He looked into her eyes, for the briefest second, connecting in a way she couldn’t describe except to say otherworldly, before he looked away abruptly and continued, “I’m sorry if I scared or hurt you when I took you from the cave. My animal, its form… I know it’s terrifying. I had no other choice but to become the Chimera against them. I heard your cries. I actually felt your pain… I came as soon as I could. I knew something was wrong tonight. I could feel it brewing all day in the air, like the calm before a storm. Damn world is going to hell in a hand basket, or whatever the saying is my mother used to use. There was another one about an applecart too…” He left off, a soft laugh rumbling from deep in his chest as he shook his head. “These days, it is the damnedest thing, witches and shifters joining together, up to a bunch of mystical mayhem. Anyway, I need to see if you’re hurt anywhere else. My apologies again.”

With great care, he lifted the blanket from her body. Inch by inch he gathered the material, being cautious to not rub it across any of her wounds. So, inch by inch her body was being bared before him. Excitement made her heart jump, her stomach tighten, rather than the embarrassment she had expected to come to warm her face. Instead, the heat rose from inside her, from her core, through her chest, radiating outward, taking the chill with it.

Her blanket removed, she lay on her side, legs semi-bent, but still vulnerable before his eyes. Her breasts jutted out; red, welted, bloody scratches marked them. She couldn’t imagine what her sides looked like.

“My god!” he growled so ferociously, she jumped. “I’m sorry to frighten you, but what the hell were those bastards doing? I mean I saw the circle, I felt the magick, but…” He shook his head.

“I was to be a sacrifice. They were doing some kind of ritual…” she wheezed, but hesitated, not knowing how much to say.

“Go on.”

“They were shifters, all different animals. They spoke of the elements being represented. The woman was a witch. They said it was a sex ritual to create a being like… the legend.” She cringed, waiting to see how he would react.

“Like me.” When she’d expected anger, he’d instead spoken quietly and hung his head. As crazy as it was, even in her condition, she’d never so desperately longed for a mouth to kiss her, anywhere. She could only think of his lips, soft and then hard as they pressed against her body.

“I assume,” she sighed, giving her head the slightest shake to refocus her wayward thoughts, her longings falling not short of lust.

She heard him swallow, then sigh. “I wouldn’t wish my life on anyone,” he whispered. “Sick bastards,” he growled under his breath. Then he turned his head to the side so fiercely she heard his neck crack.

“But you, you save people. I’ve heard the tales. You saved me. You’re my hero.”

He scoffed, a sound so loud she actually felt the air used to utter it rush across her ear. “I’ve live as an outcast high on a mountain top, not even accepted among the shifters. My mother, a witch, but I think I already said that, suffered raising me alone, but never once complained about it. She’d been forced into her ritual, one just like tonight’s from what she said and I just saw. Because of her great magick, shifters raped her. She was cursed to carry and birth me alone, and then raise me alone. Her body and her magick were damaged from having me, yet she was such an amazing woman.” His voice changed then. While still low, it rose in tone, became more frightening, so full of emotions, though she wasn’t afraid for her own safety any more. “This world is going mad. Creatures, whether shifter or witch or vamp or Dragon or fairy… we live on the fringes of humanity anyway. We aren’t supposed to like each other. The rules were simple. Now all of the paranormals are either fighting or trying to blend. Humans have gotten caught in the crossfire as well, I hear. I can’t save them all. Neither can the groups that are forming. The results of these merging of species, especially when magick is involved, these meldings of shifter and witch or whatever else, have never resulted in good to my knowledge.”

“No, not to mine either. It is a new phenomenon, really, well – practiced to this extent. I’m Aiyanna by the way. Do you have a name, hero?”

“Yes, it’s Xander. Now, stop calling me hero. I’m not. Far from it.”

“I would say you are. You didn’t have to save me.”

He huffed. “I think I did. Nature knows. The Universe decides which calls of panic and fear I hear and should respond to. I follow my instincts and Mother Earth, herself. Now, no more talk. We must get you healed.”

He went back to work. The discomfort from his ministrations couldn’t stop her wondering what his large hands would feel like on her otherwise, in a different situation; one more sensual, more erotic. He was gentle and attentive, concern tightening the already sharp lines of his features. She lost consciousness looking at his green and gold eyes as he laid the packs of healing herbs over her breasts, his fingers way too careful not brush against her erect nipples as far as she was concerned.