Rebel Heart: A prequel to Rebel Alpha (Book 5 in the Aloha Shifters: Pearls of Desire series) Read online

  “No last name?”

  “Just like you,” he pointed out.

  She frowned. No, she hadn’t mentioned her last name, but for good reason. A girl didn’t just announce that to a perfect stranger, especially when the name was the dragon equivalent of Rockefeller or Vanderbilt.

  He motioned to the Triumph. “It’s all good, Cynthia.”

  He drew out her name in three long, careful syllables. Usually, she hated that. But Cal’s tone was more amused than mocking, and for some reason, she didn’t mind.

  “Ready?” he asked, sliding onto the bike.

  Cynthia eyed the machine — and the man. Was she really ready to do this? She stalled by pulling her silk scarf from the passenger seat and wrapping it around her neck. Then she organized her handbag, rolled up the windows of her Honda, and locked the doors.

  Cal started his engine with a sharp kick and called out over the roar. “I guess I’ll be going then.”

  She yelped and all but leaped on behind him. The curve of the seat brought her flush against his back, and on instinct, her arms slid around his waist. A stray lock of her long, black hair slid over his shoulder in a strangely intimate way, and she froze.

  Cal froze, too. Electricity pumped through Cynthia’s veins, and her heart thumped in wild anticipation.

  “Jesus,” he muttered, giving himself a little shake.

  Cynthia loved — hated? — that she never knew exactly what he meant.

  His chest expanded in a deep breath, making her arms move. She gulped. Was the man wearing armor under his leather jacket or was that sheer muscle? And, wow. Was it the jacket that smelled so good, or was that him?

  Him, her dragon murmured. Definitely him.

  “Hang on,” he said, revving the engine.

  The bike lurched and shot off, making her squeak. God, she really was nuts. But, wow. She felt great, what with her arms around his waist and her nose close to his neck. The wind whipped her hair, because he didn’t have a helmet, and neither did she. Cal was a rebel, through and through, but Cynthia was trying it out for the first time. And boy, was being bad addictive.

  Before long, she was stifling sounds of glee instead of squeaking in protest. She’d never felt so reckless or free. So filled with giddy anticipation for…for…

  She got stuck there. What was she so excited about? Cal was just giving her a ride, right?

  He leaned into the next bend, making her clutch him tighter still. Stars streaked overhead as they raced through the night, and the carpet of fall leaves beside the road rolled and rushed in their wake. Cynthia had always thought swooping and spinning in the air as a dragon could not be beat, but this was just as good. Better, in some ways, because she was nestled so close to Cal. His body heat carried over to her, giving her all kinds of inappropriate ideas. And when they raced around the final bend, bringing the gates of her home into view, she nearly urged him on.

  Don’t stop, her dragon begged. Keep going. Let him take us somewhere for the night.

  Cynthia’s eyes went wide at what her dragon was suggesting and how forcefully. She’d never gone that far with any man, and she hadn’t been planning to. She’d been saving herself for…for…

  Destiny, her dragon breathed, nestling closer to Cal.

  Her jaw hung open. Could that really be? Or was it just her hormones getting the better of her? Her dragon wouldn’t stop sending her images of the two of them, naked, sweaty, and panting in bed.

  The motorcycle wobbled, and she yelped. “Something wrong?”

  Cal cleared his throat sharply, and the words he uttered next were all hoarse. “No. Yes. Jesus, lady. Don’t do that to me.”

  She paled. Oh, God. Had he read her mind?

  Sitting straighter, she tried leaving a little neutral zone between their bodies, but the angle of the seat made her slide right back against him.

  She pointed to the gate. “That’s the one.”

  When Cal hit the brakes, she felt jettisoned out of a perfect dream. Was she already home? So soon?

  He cruised up to the gate, cut the engine, and though he didn’t whistle, she caught his eyebrows jumping up.

  “That mansion?”

  She looked over at the covered entrance of the house, where a carved pumpkin and a scarecrow stood on several bales of hay. Red, brown, and orange leaves covered the expansive lawn and the driveway to the four-car garage.

  “House,” she corrected.

  “That there’s a mansion, lady.”

  She made a face. “Please don’t presume too much about me.”

  He laughed, and just like that, the rush of anger left her, replaced by an inner glow. Slowly, she forced herself to let go of him and slide off the seat. Then she faced him, standing tall and proud, the way her mother had taught her.

  “Well, thank you,” she whispered.

  His smoky gray eyes locked on hers, and when he spoke, his voice was a whisper, too. “My pleasure.”

  The breath caught in her throat, and her legs refused to budge.

  “Would you like to come in?” she offered.

  Cal looked up at the imposing gates, then at the high turret on the south side of the house. “Uh, no. I don’t think so.”

  His words tore at her, and her heart sank. Maybe destiny had nothing to do with this. Cal was just a passing wolf shifter who’d made her dragon pant and sigh. Probably any powerful alpha male could do that with the sheer force of his testosterone. Now that she’d had her cheap thrills for the night, it was time to get real, right?

  “I guess this is it,” she said, trying to convince her dragon.

  “I guess it is,” he echoed quietly.

  Neither of them moved, though, and his eyes glowed.

  Destiny…

  This time, the whisper didn’t come from Cynthia’s dragon, but from somewhere far away. Her eyes heated, a sure sign that they were glowing as brightly as his. Around humans, she had to hide that. Then again, it rarely happened, because she’d never felt like this around any human — or any dragon, for that matter. So hungry. So tempted. So aroused.

  But a light clicked on in the foyer of the house, and Cal’s chin jerked around.

  Cynthia wanted to cry. There’d been times when she dreamed of being someone else, though never as desperately as now.

  Her shoulders drooped. “I have to go.”

  Don’t want to go, her dragon cried.

  “Thanks again,” she said, forcing herself to step back.

  The bright glow of his eyes faded to a dimmer, sadder shine. “Yeah. Sure.”

  Still, neither of them budged.

  “Are you staying around here?” she asked all too hopefully.

  Cal shook his head. “Just passing through.”

  A pang went through her, and her dragon wailed, No, no, no.

  Then, miracle of miracles, Cal cleared his throat. “On the other hand, I might stick around for a night or two. You know. I’ve been on the road for a while.”

  She nodded as if she knew exactly what a vagabond’s life was like, though she had no clue. Did Cal sleep under the stars? Did he curl up somewhere in wolf form? Did he trot through the woods and howl at the moon?

  “That does make sense,” she said, trying to keep cool. “There’s a nice place to stay a few miles ahead.”

  One side of his mouth curled up while the other turned down. “The kind of place a guy like me has half a chance of getting into?”

  She frowned. Oops. No. Probably not.

  Tell him about Sal’s, her dragon prompted.

  “Uh, yes,” she said, covering up quickly. “There’s this motel called Sal’s. You’ll see the sign ahead.”

  “Sal’s, huh?”

  She nodded eagerly. But another light went on in the house, and Cal was clearly itching to go.

  “Maybe I’ll see you around.”

  “Maybe you will,” he said quietly, putting the ball in her court.

  She worked her nerve up while she could. “Like, tomorrow night maybe?”
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  He grinned. “Tomorrow night. Maybe.”

  She stuck her hands on her hips. “Maybe?”

  His reply started as a chuckle but ended seriously. “Lady, life is one big maybe. But, yeah. Maybe I could even pick you up.”

  She swore he held his breath at the end. But, really. There was no way she should say yes. No way.

  “Yes,” she blurted. “How about at ten tomorrow night?”

  He glanced at the house. “Ten, huh?”

  Yes, it was ridiculous for her to plan on sneaking out. She wasn’t seventeen. She’d never tried any such shenanigans when she had been that age. Why start now?

  She half expected her dragon to chip in with a snarky reply, but the answer came from her heart.

  Why? Because this man interests you in a way nothing has for a long, long time.

  The front door opened, and her father called out. “Somebody there?”

  Cynthia stepped away from the motorcycle while Cal slid into the shadows.

  “See you soon?” she asked, hoping Cal wouldn’t rev his Triumph over the state line and flee.

  So make sure he doesn’t, her dragon said.

  Quickly, she undid her pink scarf and wrapped it around the handlebars of the Triumph. Cal’s eyes followed the movement then strayed to the house behind her, appraising the danger. A second later, his eyes sparkled, and she could practically hear his wolf growl, taking up the challenge.

  “See you soon,” he murmured.

  Then he drove off, becoming one with the shadows of night.

  Cynthia watched the road for a full minute, listening to her heart thump.

  Chapter Two

  Cal stared at himself into the mirror of the cheap motel room he’d taken for the night. In the last hour, he’d broken half a dozen of his firmest rules. No turning back on his own tracks, no matter what. No letting anyone touch his bike, let alone ride on the back. No messing around with women other than the occasional human — the type who understood no strings attached.

  And that was just for starters. There were plenty more rules yet to break, because he knew he couldn’t resist seeing Cynthia again. He absolutely, positively shouldn’t, but the pull to her was too great. Hell, he’d barely forced himself to drive away from the wrought iron gates of the mansion she lived in — the kind of structure that made it perfectly clear only a certain class of visitor was welcome. He wouldn’t even be let into the rear entrance reserved for staff. So what the hell was he doing, falling for a mystery woman he had no business looking at twice?

  He mulled the question over all night and through the next day as her words echoed in his mind.

  I’m stuck out here, and it’s not safe at night.

  He could have laughed out loud at that one. Did she have any idea about the danger she posed for him? Not just because an entire squadron of dragons would hunt him down for simply looking at her, though that was bad enough. Cynthia was dangerous because of what she could do to his heart.

  He closed his eyes, remembering every detail. Long, raven-black hair he longed to touch. A rigid bearing he was dying to help her shed. Sharp, intelligent eyes that might not have seen much of the world yet, but damn. That woman would lead armies when her time came.

  She’d fascinated him from the get-go, but then she’d gone and let her fantasies sneak too close to the front of her mind. When he saw what she was thinking, he’d nearly crashed the bike. She might look like a humorless, uptown type, but behind her veiled eyes lay a restless, sensual side.

  He splashed cold water on his face, trying to get real. Cynthia was too young, for one thing. Not so much in years as in hard-knock experience. Too fine, if a woman could be called such a thing, with those angled cheeks, sharp eyebrows, and that clipped form of speech. Too lots of things, and yet his wolf had the crazy notion he could measure up somehow.

  She likes me, his wolf rumbled.

  Cal snorted. No, she likes me.

  And I like her, he nearly added.

  Unfortunately, his wolf caught wind of the thought and marched around with it like a banner.

  We don’t just like her, the beast insisted. She’s our ma—

  Cal slapped his cheek, cutting the thought off. He didn’t want or need a mate.

  And yet there he was, checking himself in the mirror yet again, this time twenty-four hours after dropping her off. Shaving, making himself look as good as a guy like him could.

  He scowled into the mirror. Who was he trying to kid? He was a wanderer, a nobody. Cynthia came from some kind of high society — and not just that, but dragon society. Which made her as off limits as a woman could get.

  Okay, so maybe he’d given her some kind of Lady and the Tramp vibe. That didn’t mean he had to lose his head.

  “She’s off-limits, you got that?” he muttered aloud.

  But no, his wolf didn’t get that. For half the previous night, he’d dreamed of holding Cynthia. Touching her. Hell, just talking to her, which was nuts, given all the other things a man might want to do with a woman like that. For the rest of the night, he’d dreamed of that damn prophesy some crazy old woman had made when he’d been born, or so his mother claimed. That he would become a warrior and accomplish great things — a warrior who would extinguish a great evil and herald in a new era of peace, at least in the shifter world.

  His gaze drifted off into the distance. Yeah, right.

  Then he went back to shaving. Obviously, some part of his soul yearned for punishment for all his sins. Well, fine. He could take that, as long as Cynthia wasn’t hurt.

  “Cynthia.”

  He whispered her name over and over on the drive to her house. The moon was only a quarter full, but it was tinted orange, like a harvest moon. Or was that the fall foliage, infusing the earth’s atmosphere with color? His wolf had been begging to be let out all evening, but he was glad to be in human form to better appreciate all those subtleties of color. Just like Cynthia, that fall night was rich with layers. Who knew how deep they went?

  Maybe we can find out, his wolf growled.

  Miles later, he rolled up to the house, cut the engine, and leaned over to sniff the pink scarf Cynthia had tied around the handlebars. Her flowery, rose-and-willow scent was a goddamn drug, and the softness of it reminded him of her smooth, perfect skin.

  The wind stirred the leaves of the centuries-old oaks clustered around the mansion. A cloud drifted in front of the moon, casting deep shadows through the night. An owl hooted. All in all, it was about as encouraging as studying himself in the mirror. But then a footfall sounded from the left. He whipped his head around, and Jesus, what a sight.

  Cynthia’s shy smile made his blood rush, and the bounce of her hair made him want to pull her close. He locked his fingers around the handlebars of his bike, trying to resist. Her perfect, hourglass figure made him shift on the seat, and when her lips cracked open to utter his name, he just about dropped to his knees and begged for mercy. Damn. He was about to fall, and fall hard.

  I told you she’s our mate, his wolf growled.

  “Cal,” she whispered, stepping right up to him like she wasn’t aware of the danger he posed. To her reputation. Her chastity. Not to mention her heart if she felt even a fraction of what he did.

  “Hey,” he mumbled, trying to settle his breathing. Wishing he’d never met her because there was no way this could end well.

  “Nice night,” Cynthia whispered.

  He nodded. It was a nice night, and really, he had every right to enjoy it, right?

  “Perfect night,” he murmured, though she was the perfect part.

  She blushed like she’d picked up on that, and for an awkward moment, they faced each other wordlessly. But once he got his shit together and nodded her onto the back of the bike, everything changed. The moment she wrapped her arms around him, he had to close his eyes at the heat that rushed through his body. The warm goodness, the feeling of inevitability. That fate had been steering her toward him for years, and now their lives were now perma
nently intertwined.

  “This is crazy,” Cynthia whispered an inch away from his ear.

  He covered her arms with his and nodded. “It is.” But, hell. There they were, right? “Where to?”

  He’d turned to pose the question, and her face was right there. All that perfect skin, close enough to touch. Those full, rosy lips, close enough to kiss.

  His cock twitched in his jeans, and he nearly groaned, seeing her eyes glow. Shifter eyes took on their own light, reflecting one’s state of mind. Anger… Love…

  Arousal, his wolf practically purred.

  Her breasts pressed against his back, and her hands tightened around his ribs.

  A brooding sense of doom washed over him. But so too did the feeling of being handed a challenge — even a mission of some kind. Yes, he was going to pay dearly for this night. But on the other hand, well… Who knew? Maybe destiny had some kind of plan. Maybe it wasn’t just messing around with him.

  He swallowed hard. Taking on a mysterious mission was okay — but he sure hoped it wasn’t suicide.

  “That way,” Cynthia said, pointing ahead.

  And vroom — he took off, heading for an unknown fate.

  Every turn he took, every undulation in the terrain took him further from deep, dangerous thoughts, and before he knew it, he was smiling into the wind. Cynthia squealed and clung to him every time he gunned the engine, so he’d taken to doing that from time to time. It was fun. More fun than he’d had in a while, in fact.

  He slalomed over the dividing line of the quiet country road and roared up every incline. He leaned into the tightest turns and zoomed down every hill. Cool night air kissed his cheeks, but all he felt was heat. Heat and power like that pumping through the bike’s engine, making him feel invincible. Cynthia’s pink scarf fluttered like a banner, declaring him a fool, but he couldn’t have cared less. All that mattered were those sure arms around his waist and the sense of wonder pumping through his veins.

  “Over there?” he asked when they approached a bar on the outside of town.

  A rocking across his shoulders indicated Cynthia was shaking her head. “I have a better idea. Keep going.”