Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 85203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
He folds me into his embrace without a word, those powerful arms wrapping around me like I’m something precious…something fragile and irreplaceable.
“Now you know how I feel,” he murmurs into my hair, his voice low and rough. “The same way my Drake feels. We’re not so different, he and I.”
I don’t know what to say to that. My heart is still racing from the flight—from the emotional storm I’m still reeling in. I don’t have words for the depth of what I felt when I touched his dragon, or how connected I suddenly feel to the beast and the man. It’s overwhelming…terrifying.
Beautiful.
So instead, I tilt my face up and kiss him.
It’s soft…gentle. My lips barely brush his at first. But he meets me eagerly, deepening the kiss with a tender kind of hunger. Not devouring…not demanding. Just there—fully present, his hand stroking the back of my head as though I’m the most precious thing he’s ever held.
The warmth of his touch seeps through my scalp, soothing me. His palm cups the base of my skull, his thumb brushing behind my ear. I melt into him, my arms tightening, my eyes fluttering closed.
For a moment, there’s nothing else. No castle…no Queen…no fear.
Just this.
Just us.
But the moment passes, and with a soft sigh, he pulls back and presses a kiss to my forehead.
“Well, little dove,” he rumbles, “We’d better go down now. Doubtless there will be consequences for scaring the Nobles.”
My stomach drops like a stone.
I’d forgotten. Somehow, in the wonder of it all—in the flight, in the connection, in the magic of that moment—I had completely forgot what was waiting for us.
The Queen…the Nobles…the fight with Dorian yesterday.
Dread crawls up my spine like icy fingers. My chest tightens.
“She won’t be happy,” I whisper. “About yesterday…or about your Drake. All those people saw us. Saw you.”
“I know.” His eyes are solemn. But then, to my surprise, he smiles faintly and lifts my chin with one finger. “Never mind, little dove. If there’s a punishment waiting, I’ll take it gladly. Whatever it is, it’s worth it to have spent this time with you.”
Oh Goddess, I think, my throat tightening. What did I do to deserve someone like this? A man willing to shield and protect and care for me, no matter the consequences.
I have no answers.
Xaren takes my hand and leads me back toward the massive iron door. As we near it, I notice something I missed before—a woven basket tucked just to the side, half-hidden in the shadows.
Without comment, Xaren crouches beside it and rummages through the contents.
“I keep spare clothes in here,” he says as he pulls out a ragged pair of dark trousers. “Just in case I forget to strip before I Shift.”
“Do you often forget?” I ask, smiling a little in spite of the tension coiling in my belly.
“Often enough,” he replies with a dry look. “It’s not exactly a calm process.”
I turn away respectfully as he pulls them on, though part of me wants to sneak another glance. I can still feel his skin against mine from when he held me. Still feel the shape of him in my arms. Still feel that connection. However, I can’t stand there staring at him—no matter how intimate we’ve been.
But then the moment for intimacy has passed, and reality presses in like cold fog. We have to go back now and face the Queen. No doubt she’s going to be angry—very angry. The question is, what will she do to us?
Clothed again, Xaren steps up to the door and raises one hand. His voice lowers as he speaks a spell.
He chants:
“Steel and fire, sealed and bound,
Locked in silence, underground,
Drake’s domain, no path shall show,
Close the gate and let none know.”
There’s a soft clang like a bell struck underwater. The iron door glows faintly with red-gold runes that fade almost as quickly as they appear. The magic door seals itself shut with no visible keyhole, handle, or seam. Just solid metal and silence.
Then we retrace our steps.
Back through the narrow tunnel that winds like a serpent through the stone.
Back down the winding, steep staircase, where I keep a tight grip on the wall, grateful for Xaren’s steady presence ahead of me.
And finally, back through the hidden panel that leads into his chambers.
The door clicks shut behind us, and for one breathless moment, I think we might have a little more time before the consequences begin.
But then—
BANG. BANG. BANG.
The sound of fists on wood reverberates through the room like a thunderclap.
“Open in the name of the Queen!”
The voice is male, loud, and authoritative. It rings with that distinctive tone of a palace official on a power trip.
I flinch as my heart leaps into my throat, and every muscle in my body goes tight. Ice water floods my veins.
It’s happening. We’re caught.
Xaren’s face hardens instantly. His eyes go cold—still golden, but now like molten metal cooling into steel. He draws himself up to his full height, every inch of his muscular frame radiating power and defiance.