Wings of Fire (Protected by Dragons #2)



Ouch,” I groan as Dagan flips me onto my back, and I wheeze out in pain. He looks down at me, his hands on his hips, and his dark eyebrows raised. I huff mentally, knowing I’m not using all my strength, because to do that would be to call my dragon for help. I have to put a large barrier between us, just so she doesn’t take offence at Dagan’s smirk every damn time he wins. Cocky asshole.

“How long has it been since you trained?” he asks, offering me a hand which I push away and get myself up. There are a few other people training, and they look our way, but they don't stare for long. Most of the humans are scared of Dagan, and have been since we walked in, which works well to get them to leave us alone. The training hall is right in the middle of town, at the back of a warehouse. The place is used for all sorts of sports I believe; the stench of sweat, dirt, and blood is overwhelming of sweat, dirt and blood is overwhelming me.

“Months, years, I don’t know,” I manage to pant out. Dagan rolls his lip ring as he watches me. All I can think about is how I want to kiss him, want to feel that cold silver of the ring against my own lips. I shouldn't be thinking these things.

“You need a lot of work before you would stand a chance of beating anyone,” he says, and the teacher chooses that point to walk over.

“Isola had a lot of skill from what I remember, with some personal training she could be a worthy opponent in a fight,” Miss Dale says, smiling. Miss Dale is thirty something, with bright pink hair cut very short, and a muscular, toned body that most people would die for. She also has a serious expression that makes you want to run away from her. She is tiny, like five foot three, but she could kick all our asses without even getting breathless. Well, maybe not Dagan, but then he has trained all his life, even if he doesn’t remember it.

“I don’t see any skill now,” Dagan comments drily, like I’m not right in front of him.

“Maybe you should give her some lessons. The skills on your paperwork indicate you don’t really need this class anyway, so why not train someone in need instead?” Miss Dale suggests.

“I’m not in need,” I protest.

“You are, and being the good person I am, I will help you,” Dagan cockily replies, and I just glare at him as Miss Dale claps.

“Excellent,” she says with a sweet smile towards me. “Why don’t you get the bo staff, and fight with those? I remember you being amazing with one,” she suggests, nodding her head towards the large fighting ring in the middle of the hall. The bo staffs are lined up next to it. It’s a common way to fight here, and I used to be able to beat everyone other than Jace. He was something else as a fighter, but everyone has forgotten him here. This is a place he came to every week, and they can’t remember him. I close my eyes, looking away for just a second to calm down from the rush of anger that makes me feel.

“Ok,” Dagan says, walking over to the ring, and I follow reluctantly. This is going to hurt both my ego and my butt when he beats me. I grab a bo staff from the rack, and climb into the ring after Dagan. He stands, swirling the bo staff around with one hand as he watches me from the other side of the ring.

“This might hurt a little, but I promise to be gentle,” he comments, and runs at me before I’m ready to even reply. I lift my staff, whacking it against his and spinning around straight after, meeting his next hit. Dagan jumps to the left, swinging the staff for my legs, which I manage to avoid with a backflip. I land with my staff up, ready to protect myself, as he attacks again. He pushes all his strength down onto me, and I have to take several steps back, keeping my eyes locked onto his blue ones.

“Is that what you tell all the girls? That you will be gentle?” I tease him, trying to distract him enough to escape the corner I'm backed in.

“Wouldn’t you like to know what I tell them,” he answers, just as my back hits the ring's barrier.

“Not if that’s what you tell them. I don’t like gentle,” I say, biting my lip, and he pauses. That moment of hesitation is all I need to push him back. I sweep my staff under his legs, and he lands hard on the floor/on his back. I place the end of my staff against his neck before he can even blink.

“Kitty cat, I’m impressed,” he coughs out.

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” I laugh, moving the staff and straightening up. “Again,” I grin at his shocked smile.

“I think I’m going to like you, kitty cat,” he says. He jumps up, slamming his staff into mine with the slight distraction his words cause, and all I can do is laugh.



Will I be seeing you here next week?” Miss Dale asks me as I come out the changing rooms.

“Yes, I think I will be coming every week for a while,” I reply and she smiles, placing her hand on my arm.

“Does that have anything to do with a certain dark-haired hottie?” she asks, and I chuckle.

“Dagan? No, it’s not like that with us,” I deny.

“No one looks at each other the way you two do without there being something between them,” she squeezes my arm once and walks away. Standing still, I roll her words around my mind as I watch her walk out the hall. I want to deny it all, say she is wrong and there’s nothing between us…but I hate lying, especially to myself. I just have to keep my distance from him and the others. I can’t risk it all, not just for my feelings. Not when there’s a curse that could take everything from me, from them. I watch Dagan walk out the male changing room, chatting to some guy who pats his shoulder. Dagan looks around for me, a small smile playing on his lips when he spots me. He says something to the guy, who looks over at me, and then smirks at Dagan before walking off. Dagan walks over to me, his eyes staying locked on mine like there isn’t anyone else in the room. The moment is so intense and breathtaking, that it's hard to control my own desires and continue to try to convince myself there's nothing between us.

“Kitty cat, let’s go and get some lunch. Where is best to eat around here?” Dagan asks me.

“There’s a deli two doors away, they do amazing sandwiches,” I say, “they have these peanut butter bacon sandwiches, which are my favourite.”

“Peanut butter and bacon in a sandwich, that sounds gross,” he shakes his head at me.

“Don’t knock it until you try it,” I say, making him laugh as he opens the gym doors for me. I walk out, and he immediately follows.

“It looks like it might rain, we should hurry up,” he says and I look up, seeing the dark grey clouds and feeling the chill in the air. He is right. We rush around the corner, but we’re too late as the skies open up, and rain pounds down on us. I see the deli not far from us, it’s purple door is easy to spot.

“Shit, run, its not far,” I say, grabbing Dagan’s hand and running down the street to the deli. I pull the door open and rush inside, trying to catch my breath.

“We are both soaked,” Dagan comments. Something in his tone has me looking down at my white shirt and yoga pants. A blush rises up my cheeks when I notice my shirt is see through, and you can see my pink bra underneath. I look up, seeing Dagan’s eyes drift over my body, and then back up to my eyes. There’s a moment, where we stare at each other, and I’m sure we are thinking and feeling the same things, but neither of us move. We just stare, until he decides to step forward, leaving us only a breath apart. Just as he reaches forward to touch me, a voice interrupts.

“I got you some towels, the weather is awful this time of year,” a sweet, older sounding voice says. I turn to look at the lady speaking to us. She is about fifty, with hair dyed purple and cut short, and a big smile on her lips as she looks between us, holding out some white towels.

“Thank you, it just came down so quick,” I say, accepting one of the towels and stepping back from Dagan.