But that hardly made a dent. Her heavy, thick braids hung down to her hips. Only now, the ends were even and unencumbered by something Jessenia referred to as split-ends. A horrible fate that plagued females who spent far too little attention to their own heads of hair.
“Just a little,” she waited for his reply.
For some reason, it was very important to her that Kingston approve of her looks. Holley was unlike any of the people there. Her Native American heritage gave her a sharpness to her cheekbones and was responsible for her unique coloring. These things were simple facts and could not be changed or denied.
Instinct told her she would not find racism here among the Guardians, but old habits die hard. She could not be more different from Neela if she’d tried. Even knowing the she-Dragon was not his real mate did not help. After all, he’d been attracted to her and even vied for her attention before his brother staked his claim.
Where Neela was tall, lean, blonde, and beautiful, Holley was short, with small breasts and round hips, tawny skin, a straight nose, and a mouth that was too big for her face. Her eyes were the only appealing thing about her, in her opinion.
The pale green was unusual. Like the lichen or moss that grew in the Pine Barrens. She and her grandmother had often collected such things for salves and other potions.
Granny was like Jessenia in a lot of ways, more kitchen Witch than not. It was her Lenape heritage that afforded her the more unique aspects of her magical talents.
“She looks great,” Fergie said with more than a minor annoyance in her voice, “here, try these on,” she said and bent down to drop a pair of heels at Holley’s feet.
“Oh, um, thank you,” she frowned, inspecting the things which to her looked more like torture devices than anything she’d willingly choose to wear.
“Those are from Manolo Blahnik’s new line,” she said as if that meant something to Holley who only smiled in response.
With one hand on the wall for support, Holley stepped into the expensive footwear. She gasped at the difference they made in her height. Then stumbled with her first step.
Her eyes went to Kingston’s, searching his for anything. Approval, horror, anything at all, but he remained carefully blank as she attempted her second step.
“This isn’t so bad,” she smiled right before her heel snagged on the thick carpet that covered the hallway.
Holley screamed before covering her face. Hitting the carpeted stone floor was not something she relished experiencing. Lucky for her, she didn’t have to. Kingston caught her first.
The rumbling growl in his chest vibrated against her as he took the shoes off her feet and returned them to Storm with a muttered thanks. She clung to his neck, embarrassment still eating at her nerves while he carried her down the hall and out the door.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked, squinting against the bright sunlight.
“To buy you some sensible shoes,” he muttered.
“Wait a moment, please,” she asked, surprised by how quickly he stopped in his tracks.
Her heart thundered in her chest and the sound of her blood rushing through her roared in her ears. She was outdoors. For the first time in three centuries. Nerves danced and her belly flipped, but Kingston was holding her. She trusted him implicitly.
“I got you,” he whispered as if feeling her anxiety somehow.
She nodded knowingly and Holley tipped her head back to stare at the November sun shining down on her through the tree line. The Keep loomed behind her, she felt its spirits worry and reach for her, but she shook them off. She had her mate now. Everything would be okay. Or so, she hoped.
The big stone structure groaned louder, reaching out for her, but she pushed the tendrils of magic away easily. The castle’s magic had grown dependent on her, perhaps even viewed her as its own plaything, but Holley was neither.
She was not a prisoner anymore. No matter how temporary her situation might be, she decided then and there to enjoy every second of it, starting with this.
Sucking in a deep breath, she felt Kingston’s eyes on her and nodded her head. He maneuvered her and she slid out of his arms, loving the crush of leaves beneath her feet.
“It is better than I remember,” she whispered, opening her arms wide and spinning in a circle.
“What are you doing?”
“Spinning.”
“But why?”
“Because the world is beautiful, Kingston, just look at it!” she laughed and continued to move over the leaves in their rainbow of reds, yellows, oranges and purples.
The colors of fall were everywhere. They were there in the bright blue skies, and the warm yellow sun. In the glint of his golden eyes, and the pearly white skin of his cheek. Holley had not felt so alive in centuries.
On and on, she kept spinning, faster and faster, giggling like mad until she almost went down, but he was there once more to save her from harm.
“You are beautiful,” he whispered and bent his head.
Kingston’s lips were warm and hard. His smoky scent filled her nostrils as he captured her lips in a kiss that warmed her to her soul.
My love, she thought as she kissed him back, my only love.
Eight
Mine. Mine. MINE!
Kingston’s Dragon was half a second away from busting down the door to his own bedroom. What were those two females doing to his mate?
He heard the squeals and the laughs, and though muffled, he was sure there was some crying thrown in as well. If not for Storm’s bemused expression as they waited in the hall, he would’ve knocked the fucking door down.
Finally, the thing opened and he exhaled. Kingston waited with baited-breath to catch the first glimpse of his sweet mate. The first thing he noted was the now familiar blueberry scent that seemed to tease his senses whenever Holley was near.
Delicious. Mate. Mine, his Dragon hissed.
Nerves danced up and down his spine. Where was she? Jessenia and Fergie had exited first. The two women grinned at each other, then him, stopping for a moment in the doorway.
He wanted to pick them up and move them out of his way. But the idea of touching another female did not sit well with him or his Dragon. He waited, albeit impatiently.
Suddenly, she was there. Kingston’s mouth went dry. Bloody hell. Nothing could have prepared him for the sight of his sweet mate after a bath. Her skin glowed warmly, so unlike the pale coldness of when he’d first seen her chained to that hated table.
Her eyes danced over him as she stepped hesitantly into the hall. He swallowed. Hard. The soft, clingy fabric of her top outlined her lovely, firm breasts. She was not wearing a bra. Her nipples pebbled against the material, and suddenly he wanted to claw Storm’s eyes out for being there, in the hallway, with them.
Fuck. He had it bad. The possessive urge to cover her and hide her from the prying eyes of others was a genetic throwback to the days of yore when Dragons stole away their maids and hid them amongst their treasure hoards.
Of course, that kind of thing was frowned upon these days. Pity, really. For she was a greater treasure than any he had ever possessed. And yet, something held him back from truly claiming her.
A small, niggling measure of doubt whispered inside his brain. After all, he’d failed Neela. He would fail Holley too. The idea of that warm honeyed glow leaving her skin, that bright sparkle in her eyes dimming forever, made his heart stutter in his chest.