Page 40 of Having the Dragon's Baby

Just when the disturbing sounds were finally growing muffled from the depths of her placement in the forest, Rachel felt someone or something reach out and touch her shoulder.

“Hey…”

She reacted by spinning around, slamming her body against a tree trunk. The blow as her head hit the tree disoriented her. The next thing she knew, the person came to her again, hands outstretched, palms open in a peaceful gesture.

“Rachel, it’s me, Vincent.”

She was still reeling from the thud into the tree, having bonked her head slightly against the hard surface, when she squinted into the dark. The blue eyes hung there in the black night like jewels, and relief washed over her.

“Fuck, Vincent,” she said, clasping her chest. “You scared the shit out of me. Thank God you’re here.”

Vincent wore what Rachel was accustomed to seeing him in … military-styled pants with a tight-fitted gray shirt. It was still dark, but the radiance of his eyes and the adjustment of the ill-lit forest made up for it. He came to her with one hand behind his back, the other outstretched to touch her head. She relaxed, bending her neck and letting him take a look.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, gazing over the back of her skull.

Rachel shook her head.

“Just a little knock. I’ll survive, I think.”

Vincent smiled. Rachel realized at that moment that she had never been this physically close to Marcus’s beta. He was taller than Marcus but only slightly and far more lean than muscular. When she peered upward to look at him, there was a ghostliness to the pale blues that she hadn’t ever noticed before.

That, combined with his smug smile, made her uneasy.

Rachel lifted herself from the tree trunk, ducking out from under his arm that was pinned over her. She crossed her arms, feeling suddenly defensive.

Then she realized he wasn’t naked. Marcus had told her they were always naked after shifting.

“Why aren’t you out there with them?” she posed.

“Oh, it sounds like they’re handling it just fine,” Vincent said, moseying over from the tree to stand before her. “Don’t you think so?”

Rachel shrugged, feeling the pulse of her heart throbbing in her neck. She didn’t want to take her eyes off him.

“I don’t know anything about dragons. I think that would be your expertise.”

Vincent chuckled darkly. Rachel started to feel sick.

“You always have clever remarks, don’t you? You always have something to say.”

“What can I say? I’m charming,” she drawled in response.

Vincent came toward her with his hands in his pockets. It was a saunter and not at all aggressive, but Rachel knew something was wrong. She had to get away from him. She kept her arms crossed, her mind flickering with considerations for escaping.

“It’s safe to say that he found you charming, isn’t it? Marcus was the one who was never supposed to find a mate. Of all places, he found you in a fucking surrogate agency.”

Vincent’s blue eyes scanned her over, and then he turned his gaze to where the battle was still raging. The sounds were faint but altogether violent and upsetting. Rachel waited as he mused, her fingernails leaving indents in the skin under her elbows.

Vincent spoke as if casting a spell, muttering into the starless night nearly to himself.

“Sure, he could have a woman and have a child with her. That in itself wouldn’t necessarily mean anything. But you don’t understand what having a mate does for a shifter … the power, the focus, the strength.”

“Enlighten me then.”

Vincent looked back at her, the grin growing wider.

“It’s like being injected with a drug. A drug that makes a supernatural being even more terrifying and intimidating. Nearly impossible to destroy.”

At the speed of lightning, Vincent whipped a hand out of his pocket and slapped it around Rachel’s throat. She gasped but kept her arms folded. He didn’t squeeze just yet but rather held her firmly. He could crack her vocal cords like snapping an apple core. Or he could strangle her without breaking a sweat. Terror screamed at Rachel to run, but another part of her told her to keep still and look into the eyes of the man who had completely lost control.

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