Dragonfury 02 - Fury of Ice

for sparring. The verbal kind or otherwise. ’Cause, yeah, he and his female were about to get down and dirty. Go toe-to-toe and will-to-will. He could tell by the determined look on her face. And even as he told himself to man up and stay strong, she got to him. Made him so damn proud he could hardly stand himself.
    Simple. Straightforward. Her strategy was stone-cold brilliant. And as she leaned toward him, giving him loads of eye contact, she pushed all his buttons: the ones that made him want to give her all she wanted.
    Fighting a smile, Rikar shook his head. “Angel…you’re playing with fire here.”
    “Why? Because I’m using your secret weapon against you?”
    “Secret weapon?”
    “The mind thing.” Pursing her lips, she fought to keep them from curving. She lost. He took it as a good sign as he grinned back. Even after her horrific experience, she could laugh with him. And at herself. Which just launched his respect for her into the stratosphere. “Turnabout is fair play, you know. And right now, I’m guessing you’re tapped into what I’m thinking.”
    “Didn’t mean to, but…yeah, you’re bang-on.” Watching her closely, he set his elbows on his widespread knees. “That doesn’t freak you out?”
    “A little, but…” She trailed off, adjusted her grip on the Glock, an adorable pucker between her brows. “I’m more interested in the endgame.”
    “Which is what?” He raised a brow. “Playing dirty?”
    “No…convincing you,” she said, not bothering to hide her intention. “Look, I know I’m out of my league here. That’s why I need your help. I can’t let it go so—”
    “It’s too dangerous, Angela.”
    “I need to be a part of this. I can’t sit on my duff and do nothing. I’ll go nuts.”
    Fucking hell. So much for his line in the sand. The thing had just gotten shoved a gazillion feet. In the wrong direction. “It’s not that I don’t want to let you, but…shit. I’m afraid for you.”
    “Rikar—”
    “Just hear me out, okay?”
    When she nodded, he frowned and flicked at the quilt. As he played with the corner edge, winding the patchwork between his fingers, he searched for the right words. The ones that would make her understand. In the end, he settled for, “Our world isn’t like yours. Dragonkind…the males I fight don’t play fair. We’re at war…locked in a bitter feud without end. It’s kill or be killed. No rules, no boundaries, no mercy. I want to protect you from that, not send you into the middle of it. Especially after—”
    “Don’t say his name!”
    The outburst cracked him wide open, and he bled for her. For all the pain. For all the suffering and fear. And as she struggled for composure and he watched tears pool in her eyes, he cursed the daylight. He wanted to go right now: hunt that fucker down, rip his still-beating heart from his sadistic chest, and bring it back to her.
    Moving carefully, he reached out and slid his hand into hers. She flinched but allowed the contact as he fused their palms and examined the IV punching her skin. So fragile. So fine. So dangerous to let her win. He needed her to listen. To stay home. Stay safe. Stay out of trouble so he could do his job.
    “Angela, love,” he murmured, giving her a gentle squeeze. “Listen to me.”
    “No…” Blinking tears away, she shook her head. “You listen.”
    Her voice was sharp, stronger than he expected, and he wanted to say “attagirl.” Give her a pat on the back and applaud her bravery. He stayed silent instead. What else could he do? Saying no wasn’t working. Explaining the danger wasn’t getting either of them anywhere. Seeing her tears didn’t help, either. Her pain sent his will to resist into a nosedive, and just like that, he was floundering again.
    Laying the Glock on the mattress beside her knee, she pressed the back of his hand into the mattress and took hers away. He mourned the loss of her touch, but not for long. She came right back. Her mouth curved as she traced the lines on his palm. “Do you believe in fate, Rikar? That all things happen for a reason?”
    Another light stroke against his skin.
    Rikar shifted, fighting a full-body tremor. “I don’t know.”
    “I do. All the other cops make fun of me, but I believe it anyway.” She shrugged, brushing away their derision, and Rikar had the sudden urge to visit the precinct and bash every one of their heads in. Her featherlight caress distracted him, kept him still as her