As my mind drifts back toward relative clarity, I’m moreaware than ever of how he feels inside of me—how, even after releasing so much of himself, it still feels as if we’re knotted together in a way that’s unlike anything I’ve ever encountered before.
I grind against him a bit, partly out of lingering arousal, partly out of curiosity.
He sucks in a breath, his mouth biting lightly into the curve of my shoulder until I stop moving. “Are you really so insatiable?” he mutters.
“I’m curious.”
“About?”
“Some of that felt…and still feels…less than human.”
His teeth graze my shoulder again. “I warned you I had a more beastly side you might unleash, didn’t I?”
My arousal threatens to flare back into something much hotter as he lazily rocks his hips, sending a few final satisfying tingles of pleasure through me—but he pulls out before I lose myself too completely.
“Dangerous or not,” I say, once I’ve caught my breath, “I’m inclined to consider this a perk.”
“You’re incorrigible,” he says, rolling into the cushions beside me, splaying out and closing his eyes like a man surrendering on a battlefield. “And I was mostly in control of myself throughout that, just so you’re aware. I’m stillnot convinced it’s safe to risk entirely losing myself with you.”
“You wouldn’t hurt me.”
His brow furrows. “Do you remember anything I’ve said to you about this curse? About the violent, unpredictable nature of it? The way some of my ancestors have turned fully into mindless, deadly monsters?”
I remember all of it, of course, but I try to keep my tonelight. “Ihaveread that the mating habits of dragons can be violent.”
“Very much so.”
“That doesn’t meanyou’regoing to turn violent, though.”
“But I might.”
I shrug. “Still not a bad way to go, all things considered.”
He tries to continue his stern lecturing, but fails, a quiet laugh rumbling up from in his chest. “What the hell am I going to do with you?”
“You’re going to kiss me,” I tell him, propping myself up beside him and pressing my lips against his. He smiles before slowly kissing me back. We lose ourselves in each other for a minute, and then he reaches for a nearby blanket and drapes it over us before wrapping me up in his arms.
“Forget everything I said before,” he says, his fingers trailing mesmerizing patterns across my skin. “I’m claiming you right now. You’re mine, Arowyn. Every fucking part of you is mine.”
I burrow closer to his chest, laying my head on his beating heart. “As long as I get to claim you back,” I whisper.
Wakingup in Reave’s bed the next morning feels different than it ever has before.
It feels…normal. Despite all the strange, twisting paths that led to this moment, when I open my eyes and realize where I am, a sense of undeniable peace washes over me. One that only increases as I lift my head and find him already awake, just quietly existing in the same space as me.
He’s sitting in the glass-walled alcove, a breakfast tray on the table in front of him. Wearing nothing except the loosepants he fell asleep in, his hair still messy, his glasses clutched in one hand and pressed thoughtfully against his lips.
I get to my feet, wrapping a small blanket around myself before shuffling over to him. I’m reaching for a croissant from the tray—feeling warm and light and happier than I have in as long as I can remember—when I truly catch sight of the expression on his face.
I immediately freeze. “What’s wrong?”
He motions toward the chair across from him.
I sink into it, my knees suddenly weak as I notice he has a letter clenched in his hand. I can’t make out anything written on it, yet the sight of it fills me with dread. “What is that?”
He places his glasses on the table, freeing up his hand to massage the space between his eyes. “Some personal correspondence from the new King of Dralsk.”
I force myself to keep speaking, because the silence that threatens to settle is even more frightening than the look on his face. “At least he’s communicating, right?”
