Fury of Desire

the thick strands of dark hair away from her face. With a sigh, J.?J. stirred, turning into the touch instead of away. Another gentle caress across her skin. Her bio-energy flared, nearly blinding Venom with the fiery pulse in her aura. He turned his face away to shield his eyes. The Meridian hummed, rising in a powerful wave to forge a connection between the two.

Venom’s mouth fell open. Goddamn. Talk about insane, bizarre… whatever. The descriptor didn’t matter. The sudden flare-up, however? Jeez. That mattered. Without knowing it, Wick was feeding her: opening an energy channel, letting her link in, nourishing her with the healing flow drawn from the Meridian.

“Vanzala,” Wick murmured, cupping her cheek, giving Venom another shock as he called her songbird in Dragonese. He shook his head. Wick didn’t notice. All his focus on J.?J., he caressed her again. “Open your eyes and look at me.”

She shivered, trembling in Wick’s arms.

“Come on, baby.”

Wet lashes fluttered, lifting to reveal brilliant blue irises. “You’re back.”

Wick stroked along her jaw. “I never left.”

“Yes, you did,” she whispered. “How did you do it?”

“What… shift forms?”

She nodded.

“Dragon DNA,” Wick said, giving her the simplest answer.

“Figures, I guess, since you turned into one.” Wick traced the fine arch of her eyebrow, then changed tact to caress her cheek. With a hum, J.?J. turned her head, seeking more of his friend’s touch. “You scared me.”

“I know.”

“Please don’t do that again.”

Wick huffed. “I’ll try.”

“Good,” she said, and Venom cringed.

Goddamn it. The exchange made him feel like a first-class heel. Like a voyeur, butting in where he didn’t belong. It was beyond awkward, starting to border on embarrassing now. Venom shifted on the balls of his feet. He wanted to turn and walk away. Leave the situation behind and never look back. The strategy was a good one, except for one problem.

He couldn’t leave.

Duty called. Honor rode shotgun, refusing to give him a get-out-of-jail-free card. He’d given his word. Bastian expected him to get the pair inside the lair. Which left him playing monkey in the middle, baring witness to an intimate moment between two people so absorbed in each other they’d forgotten he existed.

Venom cleared his throat, hoping to break up the party.

J.?J. ignored him. Raising her hand, she touched her fingertip to the corner of Wick’s mouth. His friend tensed, but stayed true, allowing her to touch him. She drew a soft circle on his skin. In reaction, Wick’s gaze began to glow. “You’re not human.”

“Half,” Wick said. “We’re a different species.”

“Oh,” she said, a frown on her face. The expression pained Venom. It made her look as though she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders. Not something any female should be made to do. “Hey, Wick?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m really tired.” As though admitting the truth elevated her fatigue, her body gave out. She dropped her hand, tucking it back in her lap. Pressing her face to Wick’s shoulder, her eyes drifted closed. “I can’t think anymore. I’m just… done.”

Wick nodded, even though she couldn’t see him anymore. “Sleep, vanzala. You’ll feel better.”

“Promise me something?”

“What?”

“Don’t leave me alone with strangers,” she whispered, strain in her tone. “Promise you’ll be here when I wake up.”

“You don’t need me.” Shifting her in his arms, Wick pushed to his feet. The movement was smooth, measured, designed for her comfort. “Your sister will—”

“Please?”

The whispered plea tipped the balance. Folding like a bad poker hand, Wick gave it up, promising her as exhaustion drew J.?J. into slumber. Cradling her close, Wick strode across the LZ. Venom followed, trailing his friend, wondering what the hell had just happened. None of it made sense. Not Wick’s reaction to J.?J. Not her lack of fear or her acceptance of a male most females avoided at every turn. Not the wretched sense of loss Venom suffered in the aftermath of their exchange either.

His response was screwed up. Completely backward, it smacked of selfishness. He should be happy for his friend, not feel uptight, out of sorts, and… yes… even a bit jealous of Wick’s good fortune.

Knowing it, though, didn’t stop envy from grabbing hold. And as Venom walked across the LZ, he couldn’t deny the emotion. He’d been displaced… shoved aside and replaced. After sixty years together—of relying solely on each other—he was about to lose his best friend. To a female.

Instinct warned him. Logic hammered the truth home.

Energy-fuse was serious stuff, a magical bond, a connection that only occurred when a male’s dragon half found its mate. Not exactly something a male could fight. At least not for very long. B, Rikar, and Mac were proof enough of that, which meant sooner or later Wick would succumb too. The realization reached deep, made him ache from the inside out, stirring up ugly emotion.

Everything was about to change.

And Venom knew… just knew… it wouldn’t be for the better.

A warm bundle, Jamison lay like a gift in his arms. So relaxed. Too trusting. Beyond precious. Wick clenched his teeth, his footfalls echoing as he approached the magical barrier into Black Diamond. At some point in the last few hours, he’d lost his mind. It was the only explanation for his behavior, never mind his promise. Add that to the fact he kept likening her to a gift and…

Jesus. No doubt about it. He needed his ass kicked. Or his brain rebooted. One or the other, and in the next few minutes. Otherwise, he’d suffer another short circuit and wade even further into the land of holy fuck. A huge first for him.

Like that damned promise.

Wick cringed. He never should’ve given his word. Being there when she woke up wasn’t a good idea. A clean break would be better for all concerned. But oh no, he’d deviated from the plan. Now he was hemmed in, stuck between two schools of thought, which… oh goody… happened to be polar opposites.

Help or hinder. Keep his promise or head for safer ground.

He couldn’t do both. Couldn’t stay and go at the same time, and as opposing forces stretched him thin, his head started to pound. He cradled Jamison closer, looking for guidance, fighting the urge to bail on her, wishing he wasn’t so screwed up. A normal male would know what to do to make it right for her. He huffed. Normal. Right. As if. He didn’t know what ordinary entailed. Or how to act the part.

Case in point? Jamison needed gentle. He’d never been kindhearted or soft-handed in his life. She required care and comfort. He didn’t have the first clue about how to deliver either. She trusted him to keep his word and be there for her. He couldn’t wait to put her down and beat feet in the other direction.

The comparisons made his stomach cramp.

Fucking hell. He deserved to be drawn and quartered. Hung by his entrails. Taken out and shot. Take your pick. The method of torture didn’t matter. Not while he contemplated betraying her trust. Abandonment with the backlash of duplicity. God help him, he hated the mere idea of it. But fact was just that… fact. If he broke his word, he was nothing but a first-class cheat. A betrayer. A coward for abandoning the credo he’d lived by all his life. Granted, the list of principles was a short one, but at the top sat one unbendable dictate—a promise made was a promise kept.

Wick sighed. Shit. He couldn’t do it. Jamison was too important. Honor demanded he finish what he started. His dragon half concurred, refusing to let him retreat or cause her any more pain.

So… here he went, veering away from safe and straight into fucked up.