The Dragon's Bond

Prologue:

Tony Jackson has a secret. Actually, he has several.

At fourteen (almost fifteen), Tony can build impossible machines out of duct tape and desperation. His siblings think he's a wizard. The school thinks he's a genius. But when Tony looks in the mirror, he sees glowing blue cat eyes that don't belong to any human.

His adoptive mother Mercy is dying of cancer. The doctors gave her six months. The family has no money for treatment. And Tony's weird eyes can't fix that.

Or can they?

When Tony's blood awakens an ancient pendant - and the ghost of the father he never knew - he discovers the truth: he's not fully human. He's part dragon. His blood can heal the incurable. And a mysterious woman from his dreams is flying across the world to find him.

But healing Mercy requires his blood - the ancient dragon fire slumbering within him. As the power awakens, the woman who haunted his dreams just stepped into his reality.

Chapter 1: The Lap nap

Tony woke up to a very soft warm pillow under his head.

That should have been his first warning.

The pillow was smooth and warm in a way that felt cool and comfortable. It smelled like something floral and expensive - not the usual scent of his couch cushion bed, which generally smelled like pickles and mild despair. This was different. This was nice. This felt like home.

He nuzzled into it, letting out a contented sigh. His whole body felt relaxed, boneless, like he'd finally slept for the first time in years. The tension that had been living in his shoulders since he'd discovered Mercy's medical papers was gone. The restless energy that had been driving him to run a hundred kilometers the day before had finally quieted.

This is nice, he thought. I could stay here forever.

And then he felt fingers carding through his hair.

Slow. Gentle. Rhythmic. The kind of touch that made his scalp tingle and his toes curl.

Tony's brain, which had been blissfully offline, started to drift. The fingers in his hair felt so good, so soothing, that he let himself sink deeper into the warmth. Into the homey comfort, Into the presence that surrounded him like a cocoon.

And then his mind started to wander.

She's so beautiful, he thought, his consciousness floating somewhere between sleep and waking. So impossibly beautiful.

He could see her in his mind's eye. Marinedel. Those blue eyes that glowed like his own, the eyes that he'd never thought could be so captivating on anyone else. Her silky black hair that seemed to melt like liquid gold between his fingers. Those lips - full, pink, absolutely perfect lips that he would give anything to kiss.

The image in his mind grew sharper, clearer, and so vivid that the mere sight of it made his mouth water.

He imagined exploring her body. Running his hands over her curves. Feeling the softness of her skin beneath his fingertips. He could almost feel the warmth of her, the way she'd respond to his touch. His hands would find her cheeks, her ears, the elegant curve of her neck that looked like it belonged on the cover of an erotic novel - captured perfectly, waiting to be kissed.

Ooh, his dreamy thoughts continued, I can only imagine how her breasts would feel in my hands, the nipples. How perfect they'd be. How they'd fit right into my palms like they were made for me.

The images flooded his mind. His hands cupping her breasts, ministering to each with focused attention. Her soft gasps. The way her body arched helplessly into his touch. His lips on her neck, trailing downward, exploring every inch of her -

Tony swallowed hard.

And then he swallowed again.

And again.

The feeling floored him to his roots. This amazing, beautiful, supermodel-perfect woman was his. His. The bond had declared it and more to it he felt it deep in his soul. The universe had declared it. And he would melt and die in her hands a thousand times over if it meant he got to be with her. To experience this.

He imagined his lips on hers. Claiming her. Tasting her. Feeling her respond to him with equal passion. He imagined her hands in his hair, pulling him closer, and - 

"Didn't realize I was that appealing to you, my dear husband."

Tony jolted awake so fast he nearly fell off the couch.

His eyes flew open. He was staring at the familiar water-stained ceiling of their old house. The crack that ran from the corner to the middle was still there. The spot where the rain had come through last winter was still stained brown. Everything was exactly as it had always been.

Except for the pillow under his head.

And the fingers in his hair.

And the fact that his face was burning with a heat that could probably power a small city.

Tony turned his head slowly, like a man approaching a cliff edge.

Marinedel was looking down at him with a smile.

She was sitting on their old, lumpy couch - the one that had been in the house when they'd moved in, the one that smelled like decades of other people's lives - and he was lying with his head in her lap. Her fingers were still tangled in his hair. Her blue eyes, without contacts were sparkling with barely contained amusement. Her cheeks were flushed a deep, lovely pink. His eyes drifted to those pinky rose lips and lost himself imaging what they would feel like kissing them.

"Good morning," she said, her voice gravelly soft as she cleared her throat. It was low, warm, and completely devastating.

Tony's mouth opened. Nothing came out.

His brain was screaming at him: You fell asleep in her lap. You fell asleep in her LAP. You are FIFTEEN and you fell asleep in the lap of the most beautiful woman you've ever seen and she's been CARESSING YOUR HAIR and you - you - you - 

And then the rest of it hit him like a freight train.

The images. The thoughts. The very, very detailed exploration of her body that his brain had conjured while he was half-asleep.

Then her words came back to him: "Didn't realize I was that appealing to you, my dear husband."

Wait. He could feel her presence in his mind. Was she privy to his thoughts? The idea was impossible - yet the amused smile playing across her face shattered whatever doubts he had left.

Oh no.

Oh no, no, no, no, NO.

"Did you - " Tony's voice came out as a strangled squeak. "Did you hear - "

"Every word. And not just heard - seen. You are naughty, my dear husband," Marinedel confirmed, her smile widening. "Every single scene, in vivid, glorious detail."

Tony wanted to die.

He wanted to sink through the floor, through the earth, through the entire planet, and disappear into the void of space where no one could ever find him.

"I - I didn't - that's not - I was asleep - I wasn't - "

"Erotic dreams, apparently." She was enjoying this way too much. Her eyes were dancing. "You were very... expressive."

"I was DREAMING," Tony insisted, his voice cracking. "It was just a dream! A weird, nonsensical dream that meant nothing!"

"What part? My breast or the part about my neck looking like it belonged on an erotic novel cover?"

Tony choked.

"I think I like the part about how my breasts would feel in your hands?"

He made a sound like a dying whale.

"The part where you imagined kissing me and - toying with my nipples"

"OKAY!" Tony bolted off the couch, tangling his feet in the process and barely catching himself. "OKAY, that is enough! Message received! You heard - scratch that, saw - everything!"

OMG, this is so embarrassing, he muttered, ducking his head to hide his flushed cheeks.

He was out the door before she could respond.

Behind him, he heard her laughing. Genuine, warm laughter that followed him out onto the porch and into the forest.

Tony ran.

He didn't know where he was going. He just knew he had to get away. Had to put some distance between himself and that woman who could apparently read his mind and had just gotten a front-row seat to his very vivid, very inappropriate fantasies - and get this - involving her!

He plunged into the forest, branches whipping at his face, his feet pounding against the soft earth.

The cold air hit his lungs. His dragon blood surged, warming him from the inside out. His vision sharpened, picking out details in the dim morning light. His hearing expanded, catching the sound of birds and insects and the distant rustle of a small animal.

He ran faster. Harder. Pushed himself until his muscles burned.

And still, his brain wouldn't shut up.

She heard EVERYTHING - no she saw everything, it taunted. She had front row seat to him exploring her body and worshiping it.

"I was asleep!" Tony shouted at the trees. "I wasn't in control of my thoughts!"

The trees did not respond. They were very unsympathetic.

She called you 'my dear husband.'

Tony stumbled over a root.

She called you 'my dear husband' and you called her 'darling' in your dream and you were exploring her intimately - 

"I wasn't thinking about anything!" Tony lied. "It was just a dream! Dreams don't mean anything!"

Liar.

"I'm not a liar!"

You are a very bad liar.

"Shut up!"

He tried to silence his brain, but to no avail.

Tony kept running. His legs pumped. His heart pounded. The forest blurred past him in a haze of green and brown.

But no matter how fast he ran, he couldn't outrun the image of Marinedel's knowing smile or the erotic scenes from his dream. The way her eyes had sparkled. The way she'd said "every scene" like it was the most amusing thing that had ever happened to her.

This is mortifying, Tony thought. This is the most mortifying thing that has ever happened to me.

His body was still betraying him. Even now, running through the forest, he couldn't stop thinking about her. The way she'd looked at him. The way her fingers had felt in his hair. The way - 

I need a cold shower, he thought desperately. A deep dive into the river. I need - 

'Careful.'

Tony froze.

The voice was in his head. Clear as day. But Marinedel was... back at the house. A mile away. Maybe two.

Wait. He straightened up slowly, every muscle in his body going tense. There was no logic to it, but he knew without a shadow of a doubt that it was Marinedel.

"Hello… Marinedel ?" he asked, his voice hesitant.

'Yes,' her voice came back immediately.

Tony closed his eyes, drawing in a ragged breath. He couldn't wrap his mind around the absurdity of it. He had run away to escape her - to get as far as humanly possible - and now she was inside his own head?

And then, in a heartbeat, something clicked.

It was like a dam breaking. Like a door swinging open. Like he'd been looking through a keyhole and someone had just kicked the whole wall down.

He could feel her.

Not just hear her. He could feel her. Her emotions. Her warmth. Her presence in his mind like a second heartbeat.

'How are you doing this?' he asked. His thoughts felt clearer now. Less shaky. 'This isn't - this isn't normal.'

'Nothing about us is normal,' she replied, and he could almost hear her smile. 'We're bonded, Tony. It's not just telepathy. It's... more. I can feel everything you feel. And you can feel everything I feel.'

Tony's eyes flew open.

'Everything?'

'Everything.'

Oh no.

'Does that mean you can - '

'Yes.'

'Oooh no oh no!'

Tony groaned and dropped his head into his hands. 'This is a nightmare.'

'Is it?' Her voice was teasing now. 'Because I seem to recall you thinking about what my neck and breast would feel like, and that didn't feel very - '

'OKAY.' Tony's voice came out as a strangled yelp. 'OKAY, I get it. You can hear everything. I'm never going to have a private thought again. This is fine. This is absolutely fine. He was losing it'

'Tony.'

'WHAT?'

'I like you too.'

Tony's brain shut down completely.

'What?'

'I said I like you too,' she repeated. Her voice was gentler now. Softer. Almost vulnerable. 'I know we just met. I know this is crazy. But I've been dreaming about you for four years, Tony. Four years. And now you're here, and you're real, and... and I like you. The way you have no idea how handsome you are.'

Women certainly know how to play men like a fiddle. With only a few words, she managed to quiet his frantic thoughts.

Her confession hung in the air between them. Warm. Heavy. Full of meaning.

'So,' Tony said carefully, 'if I was dreaming about - '

'You were thinking about how my body would feel?'

Tony choked.

'I didn't - I wasn't - '

'The bond works both ways, my dear husband.'

Tony saw it then. The image. A flash of her thoughts, as clear as if he were seeing it with his own eyes. The image of her, sitting on the porch, looking out at the sunrise. And then the image of his lips on her neck - 

Tony's brain short-circuited.

And then he jumped into the river.

The water was cold. Shockingly, blessedly cold. Tony surfaced with a gasp, his lungs burning, his face stinging.

'That was very dramatic,' Marinedel's voice observed dryly. 'And completely unnecessary.'

"You - " Tony spluttered, spitting out river water. "You - you can't just - "

'I can't just what?'

'SHOW me things like that!'

'Why not? You were thinking about it.'

'I was NOT - '

'Need I remind you of your dreams?’'

Tony submerged himself again. This time he stayed under longer, letting the cold water wash over him, forcing his rebellious body to calm down. When he surfaced, he was breathing harder, but at least his face was no longer on fire.

'Better?' Marinedel asked.

'No,' Tony admitted. 'Not really.'

'I'm sorry.'

'Are you?' He could hear the grumpiness in his own mental voice. 'You don't sound sorry. You sound like you're enjoying it.'

'I am enjoying it. But I'm also sorry.'

'How does that work?'

'It's called multitasking, Tony. Look it up.'

Tony splashed water in the direction of the shore, even though she wasn't there. It was childish. He didn't care.

'Okay,' he said finally. 'Okay. I need - I need a distraction. Something to think about that isn't - '

'Me?'

'I was going to say your - you know what, never mind. I'm not thinking about that anymore.'

'I can feel you lying.'

Tony took a deep breath. 'Very... distracting. And now I'm thinking about how you looked at me when I woke up. And how your fingers felt in my hair. And - '

'And how you imagined kissing me?'

'Argghhh!'

There was a pause. Then, softer: 'I know!'

Tony was quiet for a moment. He floated on his back, letting the current carry him gently downstream. The water was cold, but his dragon blood kept him warm. The sun was rising properly now, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink.

'This is insane,' he said finally. 'I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to - to have someone in my head. To have someone know everything I'm thinking. It's terrifying.'

'I know. It's terrifying for me too.'

'You don't seem terrified.'

'mmmh!'

'Oh.'

'I've been alone for a long time. I got very good at pretending to be fine.' she continued

Tony was quiet for a moment. He could feel the weight of her words, the loneliness behind them. The years of isolation. The longing.

'You're not alone anymore,' he said finally. 'Neither of us is.'

'I know.'

'That helps. Right?'

'It helps more than you know.'

Tony smiled. A real smile. Genuine and warm.

'Okay,' he said. 'Okay. I think I'm ready to come back now.'

'Are you sure?'

"Not even a little bit. But I can't stay in this river forever, and running away was pointless since you're literally in my head anyway. Someone's going to see me and think I'm drowning."

'I would save you if you were drowning.'

'mmmmh.'

Tony swam to the shore and pulled himself out. His clothes were soaked through, dripping water everywhere. He looked like a drowned rat.

But he felt... lighter. Somehow.

'I need a towel,' he said. 'And dry clothes. And maybe - '

'I'll have them ready when you get here.'

'You don't have to - '

'The connection was cut.'

She can do that? Tony was amazed, after a few laps he decided to head back home.

Back in the old house, Marinedel was still smiling.

She picked up her cup of tea - now lukewarm, but she didn't care - and took a slow, satisfied sip. Her face was flushed. Her heart was pounding. And she had the biggest, most ridiculous grin on her face.

At twenty-five, she thought, I should be ashamed of what I'm doing to a fifteen-year-old boy.

It was illegal, even. She could go to jail. A grown woman, sitting here, having these thoughts about a teenager - 

But sue her.

She didn't care.

Marinedel set down her tea and leaned back on the lumpy couch. The old springs creaked beneath her. The house smelled like dust and wood smoke and something that might have been pickles. It was nothing like the sterile, expensive penthouses she'd grown used to over the years.

And yet.

She felt more at home here than she'd ever felt anywhere else.

Her mind drifted back to the dream. To the images Tony had conjured while he slept. The way he'd imagined her. The way his thoughts had explored her body with such vivid, aching detail.

She'd felt every single one of his thoughts. Through the bond, through the connection, she'd seen herself through his eyes. She'd felt his longing, his desire, his absolute wonder at the fact that she was real.

It had done things to her. It still did even now.

Things she couldn't quite put into words.

"Marinedel took another sip of her tea, pausing to fan herself while her mind wandered further off."

In her adult life - even in her teenage years - not once had she felt any inclination to think about sex. Foreplay. Attraction. Any of it. She'd been disgusted, honestly. No one interested her. Even at a prime age, socializing with elites, visiting places with men sculpted like Greek gods, she'd never once felt attracted to any of them.

And she'd tried.

She'd really tried, and with Alice in her corner they had explored the city.

They'd gone to clubs. They'd let men buy her drinks. They'd gone to strip clubs once, just to see if anything, anything would spark a reaction. She'd read romance novels, watched movies, listened to her friends gush about their partners.

Nothing.

Not a flicker.

She'd started to think that something was wrong with her. That she was broken. That she'd never feel what everyone else seemed to feel so easily.

But the blue-eyed man in her dreams - the one she'd been seeing for four years - he'd made her feel something with just a look. Just the memory of his face. Just the echo of his presence in her mind.

Now here she was. She'd found him. He was way younger than her. And she'd found how soul-nourishing it was to be validated by the man you loved.

Love?

Marinedel nearly choked on her tea.

Love. She was using the L-word now?. For a man she'd just met yesterday? Had she gone mad?

But it was true. In its truest form. She loved him with all her heart. She'd loved him even before they'd met. The dreams, the longing, the desperate need to find him - it hadn't been just curiosity. It hadn't been obsession. It had been love. Pure and simple and undeniable.

She loved Tony Jackson. A fifteen-year-old boy with a family that smelled like chaos.

She had officially gone off the rails.

And get this - she didn't care.

Marinedel set down her tea and pressed her hands to her cheeks. They were burning hot. She could feel the flush spreading down her neck.

Dang Tony, she thought. He had me take five cold showers through the night.

Five.

The memories came flooding back. The night before. The way his dreams had reached her through the bond. The vivid, explicit images that had made her gasp and squirm in bed sleeping next to Mercy. She'd watched herself being explored in someone else's dreams - watched Tony's imagination paint pictures so detailed, so achingly tender, that she'd had to take cold shower after cold shower to cool herself down. If he were a little older, she would've ravished him rather than taking cold showers.

By five in the morning, she'd given up on sleeping entirely - not to mention the sheer awkwardness of Mercy being his adopted mother. She had came out to the living room, sat down on the lumpy couch.

And then he'd wandered out, still half-asleep, and collapsed onto her lap like a very tired puppy- like it was normal for them to sit like that.

She'd let him sleep. She'd carded her fingers through his hair. She'd watched his face relax, watched the tension drain from his shoulders.

It had helped immensely.

She'd felt at home.

Marinedel was still lost in her thoughts when she felt a presence behind her.

She turned.

Mercy was standing in the doorway of the living room, looking at her with a strange expression. Her eyebrows were raised. Her lips were pressed together like she was trying not to laugh. And her eyes - those warm, knowing eyes - were full of gentle amusement.

"Are you okay?" Mercy asked.

Marinedel's face went from pink to crimson in about half a second.

Oh great, she thought. Caught by the mother while I'm imagining what her underage son did to me in his dreams all night. Perfect. This is exactly how I wanted to start my morning.

"Fine!" Marinedel said. Her voice came out too high. Too bright. Too obviously flustered. "I'm fine! Just - fine! Perfectly fine! Everything is fine!"

Mercy's smile widened. She walked into the living room, her eyes never leaving Marinedel's face.

"Are you sure? You look a little... flushed. And those were a lot of of fines"

Flushed. She said flushed. ‘She knows. She absolutely knows.’ Marinedel though

"I'm just - it's warm in here!" Marinedel grabbed her tea and took a desperate gulp. "The - the heating! It's very warm!"

"It's summer," Mercy said mildly.

"Exactly! Summer! Very warm!" Marinedel took another gulp. And then another.

And then she inhaled.

The tea went down the wrong way.

Marinedel started coughing. Hard. Violent coughs that shook her whole body and made her eyes water. She dropped her teacup on the coffee table - luckily, it didn't break - and bent over, hacking like she was trying to cough up a lung.

Mercy was at her side in an instant, rubbing her back in gentle circles. "Breathe," she said soothingly. "Just breathe."

Marinedel waved her off. "I'm - cough - fine - cough - just a - cough - "

"You're not fine."

"I'm - cough - okay - "

"Sorry."

Marinedel kept coughing. It was mortifying. Absolutely, completely, one-hundred-percent mortifying. She was a grown woman. A wealthy woman. A powerful businesswoman. And she was coughing like a schoolgirl who'd just been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

At least the coughing is giving me time to compose myself, she thought. At least it's a distraction. At least - 

Mercy's hand on her back was warm and comforting. She kept rubbing, gentle and steady.

"There you go," Mercy murmured. "Just breathe. In and out. That's it."

Slowly, slowly, the coughing subsided. Marinedel's eyes were watering. Her face was still bright red. Her dignity was in tatters somewhere on the floor.

"Sorry about that," she managed, her voice raspy. "I - I just - tea went down the wrong way."

"It happens," Mercy said mildly. Her eyes were still knowing. Still amused. But her voice was kind. "Are you feeling better now?"

"Yes. Much better. Thank you." Marinedel straightened up and forced a smile. "Let me - let me make you some tea. To thank you. For helping me."

Mercy blinked. "I don't think you need to - "

"I insist." Marinedel was already moving, desperate to hide her embarrassment. "I'm very good at tea. I make excellent tea. It's one of my few skills."

"One of your few skills?" Mercy raised an eyebrow. "From what I hear, you are wealthy."

"Tea is more important."

Marinedel busied herself at the counter. She filled the kettle. She found the teabags. She tried very hard not to think about how she'd just coughed in front of her boyfriend's mother.

Not boyfriend, she corrected herself. Soulmate. Bonded mate. Whatever. This is fine. This is all fine.

Mercy settled onto the couch, watching her with that same gentle smile. She didn't say anything. She didn't ask any questions. She just sat there, warm and present and utterly understanding.

I think she knows, Marinedel thought. I think she knows exactly what just happened - given how I was squirming beside her in bed, it's hard not to notice. And she's not saying anything? I want to be her daughter-in-law.

The thought was so sudden, so sincere, that it almost made her drop the kettle.

In-law. She is thirty-three, I'm twenty-five, Tony is fifteen, and I just met this family yesterday. And I already want to marry into it.

What else is insane?

Marinedel took a deep breath.

This is insane. I'm insane. Everything about this is insane.

And she didn't care.

Ten minutes later, the kitchen was a different story.

Mary had joined them, still half-asleep, muttering about coffee. Beans had appeared next, immediately asking about breakfast. The younger kids trickled in one by one, drawn by the smell of tea and the promise of food.

And suddenly, the cramped old kitchen was full of noise and chaos and life.

Marinedel stared at the chaos like she'd never seen a large family before. Which, she realized, she probably hadn't. She was an orphan. Raised in the system. No parents, no siblings, no one to call her own except Alice. She'd spent her childhood in silence, eating alone, playing alone, growing up alone.

And when she'd aged out of the system, she'd had nothing. No one. Just herself and a burning determination to never be helpless again.

She and ALice had built the Alkine empire from scratch. From nothing. With no one's help. Every dollar, every asset, every success - it was all hers. Hard-won and fiercely protected.

But this? This chaos of noise and laughter and arguing and love? This was something else entirely. Something she'd never had.

"Are you okay?" Tony asked quietly. He'd appeared behind her, still slightly damp from his river adventure.

"This is nice," she said softly. And then, more firmly, "I'm ordering breakfast. What does everyone want?"

The kitchen erupted.

Tony's family argued about pancakes versus eggs, about bacon versus sausage, about whether anyone was actually vegetarian (Beans was not; he'd just eaten a piece of bread with jam and declared it a "vegetable victory").

And through it all, Marinedel stood in the center, taking orders, making phone calls, organizing chaos with the same ruthless efficiency she'd used to build her empire.

'You're staring,' Tony's voice said in her head.

Marinedel's eyes snapped to him. 'I was not.'

'You were. But it's okay. I was staring back.'

She felt her face heat up.

'Get used to it,' she added. 'I'm going to be staring at you for the rest of our lives.'

That... that shouldn't have been as sweet as it was.

Breakfast arrived thirty-eight minutes later.

Marinedel had somehow found a catering service in their tiny town. Tony didn't ask how. The answer was always "money," and the explanation was always "it's fine, don't worry about it."

They ate together. All of them. The whole family. Around a table that was too small for ten people, but somehow everyone managed to squeeze in. The old kitchen, with its cracked countertops and flickering light, was packed with warmth and laughter.

And for the first time in her life, Marinedel felt like she belonged.

She watched Beans eat three pancakes and then try to hide a fourth. She watched Mary threaten him with dire consequences. She watched Mercy smile at Martin across the table. She watched Tony laugh at something his youngest sibling said.

This is what family feels like, she thought. This is what I've been missing my whole life.

Tony looked at her. Through the bond, she could feel his warmth, his affection, his overwhelming sense of rightness.

'Welcome to the chaos,' he said mentally.

'Thank you,' she replied. 'I love it.'

'You love chaos?'

'I love you,' she corrected. 'The chaos is just a bonus.'

Tony's face went red. He turned back to his breakfast, pretending to be very interested in his eggs.

Marinedel smiled.

'Smooth,' she told him.