Chapter Three

Stig gathered the last pile of sawdust with his broom, scooped it up, and deposited it into the large can in the corner. He made a quick sweep of his shop, ensuring everything was in its place, and switched off the lights. He yanked on the nylon cord attached to the overhang door and brought it firmly down into place. During the day the open garage-style door allowed the swift breezes to cool the otherwise-sweltering shop.

He left out the side door, locking it behind him, and headed toward his house. The scent of freshly baked bread greeted him, reminding Stig he hadn’t eaten since that amazing breakfast Cora had prepared for him. He’d been so preoccupied with his thoughts that lunch had skipped his mind. Helping Cora out of the shitstorm she’d created and figuring out how to live through the next week with her in the house had proven more important.

“Cora?” Stig expected to find her in the kitchen but she was nowhere to be seen. He’d come through the living room and had seen her laptop and cell phone but not her. Maybe she was upstairs.

Stig washed his hands and cut a slice off one of the loaves of honey wheat bread resting on the counter. On the way to the fridge for butter, he peeked into the oven and discovered a bubbling pan of lasagna. She’d raided his garden for fresh veggies to make the salad sitting on the top shelf in the fridge. Dinner was going to be quite the feast.

After gulping down the butter-slathered bread, Stig started upstairs. He needed a shower, a change of clothes, and a plausible lie to explain why he’d be unavailable to entertain her this evening. That was bound to be difficult. Cora was the curious type. She’d start asking questions, and what the hell was he going to tell her?

Stig darted into his room and grabbed clean clothes. Having one bathroom and a guest in the house proved more inconvenient than he’d imagined when building his home. He should have sacrificed the extra space in the bedrooms for that second small bathroom.

Without thinking, Stig barged into the bathroom. The steamy interior and Cora’s gasp of surprise registered at the same time. She stood mere inches from him, naked as the day she’d been born. Water droplets followed the sloping curves of her perky breasts and the smooth plane of her belly. She moved a delicate hand in front of her sex, shielding the smooth skin from his view. It didn’t matter. He’d seen it all last night.

“Stig?” Cora stared at him questioningly. Black hair hung in loose, damp curls around her beautiful face. On impulse, Stig reached out to touch her hair. He wound the locks around his forefinger and brought them close to his nose. The scent was bright and sweet and one he would forever associate with her.

There was no controlling his beast once her scent filtered through him. Fire poured through his veins and blazed straight to his lower belly. His groin tightened as his cock awakened and sprang to life. In that hazy, lust-filled moment, Stig thought only of tasting those full pink lips.

“Come here.” His voice was thick and rough. Cora obeyed without a moment’s hesitation. He hauled her tight against his chest and cupped her face. He wasted no time tilting back her head and claiming her mouth. Pliable and sweet, her lips parted and welcomed his searching tongue. His hand slid to the back of her neck as he devoured her soft mouth. She mewled like a kitten and grasped at him.

Stig’s hands roamed the silky skin of her back. He trailed a finger along her spine and clasped a plump cheek. His hand slid along her hip and dipped between their bodies. He palmed her bare mons and elicited a shudder. Cora pressed against him and kissed him hungrily.

It would be so easy to haul her off the ground and place her on the bathroom counter. All he had to do was unzip his jeans and sink into her wet sheath. He could have her, hard and fast, right there, right now.

With a painful groan, Stig tore free and pushed her gently to arm’s length. “We have to stop.”

Almost instantly Cora transformed from a woman confident in her sexuality to a woman embarrassed. She reached for the nearest towel and quickly covered herself. Stig’s gut clenched. That was the last thing he’d wanted.

“Cora…wait.” He reached for her as she tried to shove past him.

“Let go.” She shook free and glared up at him. “I’m not interested in whatever lame-ass excuse you’re about to lay on me.”

Taken aback by the fire in her eyes, he tried to reason with her. “It’s not like that, Cora. I just…hell…I don’t know what I’m saying.” He wiped his face and tried to find the words. “You make me feel, Cora, feel things I haven’t felt in a long time.”

Cora blinked, clearly stunned by his emotional statement. She frowned in confusion. “Then what the hell is the problem?”

“It’s complicated.” How could he explain he was afraid his dragon’s need to mate might be clouding his judgment? How could he tell her about the bloody feud ignited centuries ago because a dragon male had fallen in love with a human woman and gotten her killed?

“Because I’m Hector’s little sister?”

Although her guess wasn’t quite the problem, it gave him a good out. “Yes.”

Cora sighed with frustration. “Then you need to sort that out. I know boys have weird ideas about what’s okay and what’s not when it comes to sisters. The problem is you guys never stop to ask those sisters what the hell they want.”

She spun on her heel and left. He winced at the sharply slammed door. Well he’d completely fucked that up, hadn’t he?

Shaking his head, Stig shut the door to the bathroom and shed his dirty clothes. A shower did little to clear his mind. He couldn’t argue with Cora’s points. She was right on all counts. He was stuck in the worst of places. Coming to terms with his feelings for a best friend’s sister was one thing. Telling that little sister he was actually an immortal dragon shifter? Not so easy.

As if about to brave the lion’s den, Stig cautiously entered the kitchen. Cora radiated anger. She slammed down plates and silverware and hefted the steaming dish of lasagna over to the table. The dish thumped loudly against the pot holders she’d placed to protect the tabletop.

He’d have to be an idiot to take a step farther. And yet…and yet there was something so incredibly alluring about Cora in her current mood. A pink flush colored her face and highlighted her cheekbones and lips. Her eyes seemed to sparkle. Every huff thrust her breasts against the low neckline of her green tank top.

The urge to pull her close and apologize overwhelmed him. Stig questioned whether that would smooth over their tiff or cause more problems.

“Are you just going to stand there?” Cora snapped at him from behind the island.

Stig stiffened at her biting tone. He squashed the snippy reply on the tip of his tongue. “Look, I’m sorry about what happened upstairs. You’re right. You should have a say in whatever this is that’s happening between us.”

Cora noticeably relaxed. “Thank you.”

Stig took a guarded step forward. “Cora, it’s not just about Hector and my feelings about becoming involved with a friend’s sister. There are a lot of things you don’t know about me. Serious things. Dangerous things.”

“Like the holding cell in your basement?”

Stunned by her question, Stig gaped at her. His stomach lurched. He was torn between anger and fear. “You’ve been down in the basement?”

Cora tipped her chin up as if to show him she wasn’t scared. “I heard weird noises last night. I wanted to make sure it wasn’t a wounded animal.” She swallowed and braced her hands against the counter. “What’s going on, Stig?”

Realizing this was a pivotal moment in their relationship, Stig ran a hand through his hair and gestured to the table. “Sit.”

“All right.” Cora took her seat at the table. She sat with hands folded and waited patiently.

Stig sat across from her and reached for a serving spoon. It was easier to talk when his hands were busy. She followed his lead and filled her plate. He waited until they’d had a few bites before breaking the silence.

“My last name isn’t Wyvern. It’s just a name I picked years ago.” He got up for a glass of water and brought Cora a can of soda and a glass. The tab snapped and the soda fizzed as it spilled into her cup. He returned to his seat and took a sip. “Do you know what a wyvern is?”

“It’s one of those things on those old family flags, right? Like a snake with wings,” she said uncertainly.

He nodded. “Close enough.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“More than you probably want to know,” he grumbled. “Every three years, I go through a phase. It’s violent and dangerous and I lose control. That cell in the basement is the only thing that keeps me from harming others.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Every three years?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve gone through this before?”

“Yes. Hundreds of times.”

“That would mean you’re—”

“Substantially older than I look.” Stig picked up his fork and tucked into his dinner. “If you want proof, I’ll show you later.”

“I do.”

Stig sensed Cora was trying to wrap her mind around his brief yet cryptic explanation. She hadn’t accused him of being crazy or run from the house. So far, so good. He figured breaking the news about his immortality was the best way to ease her into the truth. The dragon business could wait.

He decided a change of topic was needed and gestured to his plate. “This is good. Not that I’m surprised,” he added with a smile. “You should think about opening a restaurant.”

Cora snorted. “Really, Stig? How do we go from you trying to convince me that you’re, like, some immortal Jekyll and Hyde to talking about me opening a restaurant?” She twirled her fork between her fingers. “Besides, restaurants are hard work.”

He grinned at her willingness to go with it. “And a bakery isn’t?”

“It’s different. I know the ins and outs of running a bakery. A restaurant? Not so much.”

“You will reopen your bakery, right?”

“Yes, but I’m not sure how or where.” A look of shame clouded her face. “My insurance agent isn’t sure the policy will pay since I’m kind of a criminal. I mean, that’s if I don’t end up in the pen.”

“You’re not going to prison, Cora. I won’t let that happen.” Stig hadn’t considered the effect her poor choices would have on her ability to rebuild. She’d made a mistake but didn’t deserve to be punished forever. “I’ll loan you the money to start over if the policy doesn’t pay.”

She squirmed in her seat. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Stig. Money between friends has a way of turning ugly.”

“We’ll make it work.”

Cora didn’t fight him on the issue. She ate in silence. He could almost hear the turning gears as she processed their bizarre conversation. Whether she believed him was still to be determined.

They finished dinner and cleaned up the kitchen together. Tense silence stretched between them. Stig eyed the window and gauged how much time he had until the change. Knowing the time was coming, he reached for Cora’s hand. She stiffened at his touch but he kept hold. “Come with me.”

Her fingers relaxed in his. “Okay.”

Stig led her upstairs to his bedroom. He’d imagined taking Cora to his room before but never under these circumstances. It seemed almost anticlimactic to sit her down on the side of his bed. She looked so young and fragile with her hands clamped between her knees. He hated himself for what he was about to do. In just a few moments, he’d shatter everything she’d ever believed to be true.

“I don’t know why I’ve kept all of these things.” Stig removed a keychain from his bedside drawer and unlocked the door to the corner closet. He dragged a large trunk to the edge of the bed. He handed Cora the keychain. “The skeleton key opens this trunk.”

She took the keychain and stared at it. “What’s inside the trunk?”

“My history.” Stig cupped her cheek as he bent down and pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead. “I’m going to lock myself in the basement. Promise me you’ll stay out of there tonight.”

She gulped and bobbed her chin. “I will.”

“When you’re done, close the lid on the trunk. I’ll put it back tomorrow.”

“And the key?” She lifted the keychain he’d never let anyone else but himself touch until now.

“You keep it. I trusted you with my house key. I trust you with this one, too.” His fingertips trailed along her jaw. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Stig cast one lingering glance at Cora before leaving his room and rushing downstairs. The sooner he was in chains tonight the better.

* * *

Cora turned the keychain over in her hand. Everything Stig had told her at dinner seemed so implausible. He’d insinuated he’d been alive for quite a long time. And what was all that business about going through violent phases?

Apparently the answers to those questions rested within the antique trunk. With great trepidation, she stuck the skeleton key in the lock. It clicked loudly as the tumblers spun. She lifted the heavy lid and gazed down at the contents.

There were yellowing photos and official-looking papers on the top. Layer by layer, she dug through his mementos. Cora uncovered military commendations and medals from Vietnam and World War II. Immigration paperwork from Ellis Island in 1893 showed him as a Norwegian male aged thirty-four under the name of Stigandr Wyvern. There were photos and daguerreotypes of Stig throughout various eras. He looked so strange in fashions of the Edwardian and Victorian ages. Farther down, Cora uncovered painted portraits and pamphlets from the Regency era.

Cora stopped when she found bits and pieces from the sixteenth century. The more she dug, the more bewildered she grew. Her brain screamed that all of this was impossible. There was no way a person could live for six or seven centuries and yet the proof was there in black and white.

Surrounded by Stig’s history, Cora tried to reconcile all this evidence with the reality she’d lived in her entire life. It wasn’t possible for a human being to live for hundreds of years. Cora had always been a big fan of paranormal romances and urban fantasy novels. The heroines of those stories always seemed to deal with the discovery of their lover’s supernatural existence with such grace. But she felt like running out to her car and racing away from the house as fast as the car would go. She’d stepped into some bizarre reality where suddenly things that were fantastic and fictional were a possibility.

So what did that make Stig? Vampire? Werewolf? Some other kind of creature she’d never heard of in her entire life? And what about the dream last night? Was that Stig’s doing? Was he the shadowed man?

Cora rubbed her face in both hands. This was all so complicated. Had Hector known about Stig’s secret? Would he have told her? She didn’t know. The bond they’d forged at war had seemed unbreakable. Perhaps these kinds of secrets fell within the purview of that bond.

What did she do now? Cora took a good look at the trunk and its contents. Everything had changed between them. It wasn’t as if they could just pretend none of this had ever happened. She would never forget what she’d seen. Where did they go from here?

She sensed the ball was in her court. If she packed up her things and left right now, Cora felt certain Stig would understand.

But she didn’t want to leave.

The realization that she really didn’t care what Stig was knocked her for a loop. Whatever his secrets, Cora wanted to uncover them, bring them into the light. Once everything was on the table, they could move forward. Whether they’d move forward as friends or lovers she didn’t know. Her hopes were pinned on the latter.

Cora carefully returned the antique items to the trunk and locked it. She gripped the keychain tightly and left his room.

Out in the hall she wavered uncertainly. It was too early to sleep but she wasn’t sure if she’d feel comfortable watching television in the living room while Stig was locked up in a holding cell beneath her. But if they were going to make this work—and she had to believe Stig wouldn’t have told her about his immortality if he didn’t want her in his life—she needed to learn to deal with these “phases,” as he put it.

Her mind settled, Cora traipsed downstairs, got a drink of water, and found a cushy spot on the couch. She switched on the television and found an amusing reality show following a train-wreck celebrity as she navigated the dating waters. Although Cora tried to relax, it proved impossible. She kept listening for strange sounds and imagining all kinds of frightening scenarios.

Since Stig hadn’t fully explained what exactly these phases did to him, she imagined the very worst. Was this a Jekyll and Hyde kind of thing or something else entirely? She honestly didn’t know and that made it all the more difficult. Was the hell he endured down in that holding cell the price he paid for immortal life? Was it worth it?

Her mind swam. She couldn’t think straight. A headache started along the back of her head. She supposed her tight jaw didn’t help matters any. Maybe television wasn’t such a good idea tonight.

Cora switched off the flat screen and turned off all the lights downstairs. She trudged up to the guest room and changed into pajamas before heading across the hall to the bathroom for her nightly routine. Back in her room, she slipped into bed and hugged a pillow. She tried in vain to shut down her racing thoughts for the better part of an hour before exhaustion finally set in and dragged her into the depths of sleep.

Just as the night before, Cora experienced brilliantly vivid dreams. She swam in water so blue and so warm. She ran barefoot through the greenest, softest grass. She fell back onto a plush lavender-scented bed. The silken sheets were so smooth against her naked skin.

Warm hands grasped her ankles. Lips pressed kisses along her calves and traveled along the inner curve of her legs. She shivered as the mouth of her phantom lover inched closer to her sex. Hands grasped her inner thighs and shoved them wide. The tip of a pointed tongue probed her folds. She gasped at the delicious invasion.

Cora tried to reach down and touch her mystery lover’s head only to be stopped by the sudden appearance of silken bonds capturing her wrists and pinning them overhead. Excitement rippled along her spine. This was new and forbidden. The forced position of her arms thrust her breasts forward. Her nipples pulled tight and pebbled.

Warmth spread across her skin. Arousal coiled low and tight in her core. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the talented tongue flicking over her clitoris. The slow swirls sent tingling frissons through her belly. Her mystery lover sucked the swollen bud between his lips. Moaning, Cora arched her back and pulled against the silken bonds.

He released her clit and slid his tongue between her folds. It dipped into her opening and teased the sensitive skin there. One finger and then two followed his tongue. With the gentlest of thrusts, he worked Cora into a frenzy. His mouth settled over her clitoris again, that wonderful tongue giving her quite a lashing. Cora’s fingers curled into a tight fist as she pumped her hips and surrendered to the double stimulation of her nocturnal lover.

She hovered on the brink of explosion. Her limbs trembled. She inhaled in short gasps. The fingers thrusting in and out of her wet sheath moved faster. The tongue gliding over her inflamed clitoris did so with a little more pressure but the pace never wavered. Each stroke of the slippery tongue was just right.

Oh yes. Right there. Just a little more.

“Unnnhhhh!” Cora cried out as she shattered in climax. She undulated atop the plush bed, her movements jerky and restricted by the silk ties. Her phantom lover took her to the heights of orgasm again with that fabulous tongue and only let up when she begged for mercy. His tongue licked gently at her hot pussy as she panted for air and slowly returned to earth. Her mind fuzzy from the intense orgasms, Cora tried to touch her lover’s head and succeeded.

Her head shot off the pillow as she realized her arms were free. Just as quickly as the bonds had appeared, they’d vanished—and so had her mystery man.

Annoyed, Cora frowned and touched the still warm sheets. Any second now she would wake from the delicious dream.

“Come to me.”

Her heart stuttered at the unexpected man’s voice. It sounded like Stig but more raspy and oscillating, almost dreamlike. She clutched at her throat with a nervous hand and felt her thudding pulse beneath her fingertips. “Stig?”

“Come to me, Cora.”

She considered the request. Stig’s warning raced to the forefront of her mind. “But you said—”

“I need you.” There was no mistaking the pain and need in his voice. “Come, Cora. Please.”

And then he was gone.

Cora woke with a start and sucked in a shaky breath. She ran a hand through her hair and tried to reconcile her dream with reality. After Stig’s shocking revelations, she couldn’t immediately discount the possibility this was all real.

Stig needed her. Deep down inside, Cora knew it to be true. Ignoring the inner voice shrieking for caution, she slipped from the bed, left her room, and descended the stairs. Not bothering to turn on the lights, she wound her way through the living room and across the kitchen. Enough moonlight spilled through the windows to guide her way. She found the flashlight and clenched it tightly.

Cora paused outside the door leading down to the basement. Her instinct told her to go back upstairs. Stig had ordered her to stay out of there.

But the dream…

She opened the door and flicked on the flashlight. Trembling with trepidation, Cora took that first ominous step. Each progressive one came easier and easier as her bravery increased. The closer she got to the door, the more she wanted to see what was on the other side. She needed to know what Stig really was.

The flashlight beam settled on the keypad. The right numbers somehow popped into her head. Had her dream lover—Stig, she felt sure—planted them there during their rendezvous? Her fingers moved over the keys, punching in the correct number combination. A satisfying series of beeps and clicks echoed in the darkness.

Cora’s hand grasped the door handle. Once she opened this door, it would all be over. She would know everything. There would be no turning back, no forgetting.

It was now or never.

Cora yanked on the door and prepared to face her destiny.

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