Chapter 59: Sarn

When Bastian came to the nightclub, he demanded I return to the dragon realm. I told him to go to hell. Not that I wanted him to join me because really I just wanted to be alone in hell and drink myself to death. Damn Bastian and damn this pint-sized female for not leaving me to my nightmare of constant self-loathing.
"Are you done glaring at me or should I just sit here and give you a little more time?" Sierra asks, cutting off my pity party.
I try again and add biting venom to my voice, "Why are you here?"
She watches me with such intense appraisal I'm actually surprised when she answers. Her head cocks just a bit to the side, a spring of hair falls over her cheek, and again I see no features that resemble the bear clan females, though I sense her shifter blood. "I've decided to nurse you until you're able to help yourself. I needed a break from working the club and this position is open. You've chased away everyone else." She puts her hands up and tips her palms toward me a little. "So here I am and you're stuck with me."
Until now, male bear shifters delivered my food and water and emptied my bucket if I couldn't make it to the bathroom. No words were spoken between me and the bears, so I know Sierra lies. And none of them sat on the side of my bed and judged me like she's doing. I can see it in her eyes. She finds me lacking in every way and worst of all... she pities me.
The uncontrollable fury that turns into a blazing circle of pain begins taking over again. "I don't want you here," I groan on a warm breath of air. Too warm. My body heats with the need to expel fire. I watch Sierra wipe moisture from her brow.
Her stare remains intent and she continues to be unaware of the danger she's in. "I know nothing about dragon shifters. Is the air warmer because you're angry?" she asks in her calm melodic voice. Insane!
"You're crazy." I fight the need to grab her shoulders and shake her. "I could turn you to ash in the blink of an eye. Don't think your bear shifter blood will save you."
I'm surprised when her laughter fills the cabin. She really is nuts. I watch as she continues laughing until finally she wipes tears from her eyes. "I'm not a bear shifter," she says, letting me in on her inside joke. It wasn't that damn funny.
"Then what the hell are you?" I demand.
"How about I show you," she replies as she stands.
"How about you get the fuck out," I return sternly. It shocks me that the fire inside me settled low in my gut at her laughter. I'm even more stunned at what she does next.
She quickly unclips the fastenings holding her bustier and lets it drop to the floor. I gulp in a breath at the sight of her breasts. They're small and firm and perfect. She unzips her too tight, body-molded shorts and pulls them down her legs along with her panties. If you can call the string contraption that catches for a split-second on one foot a form of clothing at all. The heels and thigh-highs are next. She's a pro at rolling the stockings down her legs and making my dick hard. I'm so fucking turned on I forget my need for alcohol. At last she stands naked before me like it's the most natural thing on earth. And she's exquisite. It doesn't matter that my stomach continues rumbling or that my head aches so bad I want to scream, my cock wants to bury itself deep between those gorgeous thighs.
"None of that," she says with a tinkling laugh as she looks at the part of me that's growing to the point of combustion. A cool burst of energy runs across my skin and in the next blink, she's a large wolf with a red pelt of dense fur that looks soft enough to roll in. She shakes her entire body starting at her head and her fur puffs out more. Her tail is down and sweeps behind her with an unhurried slashing movement back and forth. Her brown eyes are the same as she carries in her human form. I'm looking at about one-hundred and fifty pounds of wolf completely stunning in her wildness. I'm back to needing a drink.
I've only seen two bears shift. I felt their magic when it happened. Very similar to hers. I don't even realize I've reached out my hand until her tongue makes a slow warm slide across my palm. I'm sure I don't taste good. I can't believe I'm looking at a wolf while my cock remains thick and ready. I'm a pathetic bastard.
I know she can understand me if I speak, but I'm not sure she can cast her thoughts into my mind while she's in wolf form. That's a clan thing here in the earth realm and I'm not part of her clan. I can speak and hear her telepathic thoughts if I choose, but I don't care to reveal this secret just yet. I wonder if she's part of the bear clan. If not, she most likely accepts being unable to communicate in her wolf form. It's actually quite hard to resist yelling my telepathic voice into her stubborn head, though.
For some reason my rage builds again. It's been uncontrollable for months thanks to the liquor. I'm back to just wanting her gone so I can continue my one-dragon pity party. "Get out," I yell and point to the partially open front door. The room grows warmer, but she remains standing a few feet in front of me, her tail giving a continual swish. Who does she think she is? I'm dragon. I don't need her prancing around on two legs or four. I don't need her making me think of all the things I can't have. I'm totally unworthy of anything good or in her case beautiful and innocent. It doesn't matter how sexy her clothes are. Her innocence comes through loud and clear. And because of it, I refuse to touch her.
There are twenty-four years before I'm granted another claiming for a bride. Sex with willing females is one thing, but Sierra makes me feel things I have no business feeling. She's not a one-night fuck and I know it. Her twin brother, Roland, would kill me, or at least try. He's been standoffish from the beginning and at first I thought his a typical bear shifter personality. Then I figured out it was because he'd seen the way his sister looks at me. Maybe he even noticed how I look at her when she's not watching. And now, I'm fully aware that neither of them are bears.
Sierra finally turns and with a swish of her tail, she runs from the cabin. Now I can be alone to wallow in more guilt. I don't deserve her kindness, I don't deserve to live, and I sure as hell don't deserve to have her in my bed. I lean down to the floor and snag one of her thigh-highs and bring it to my nose. It's not Calista's scent, but it holds the sweet herbal tang of a woman. I can't help the tears that fall as loneliness swamps me. Death would be a welcome escape.