We watch each other for long seconds before he glances up at Astarot. “He looks stronger. I think we can move him. We’ll find you someplace safe to hide and then I’ll leave. Give us both the space we need to forget about each other.”
“Not forget, Fhord. Never that,” I whisper as I stand up, afraid of losing this part of him—the memories of the time we’ve spent together. “But we’ll let go. We have to.”
“Tindera and Astarot can keep their distance. They know what it means to be mated to a dragon not chosen for them by the Dróttning. They need to hide their connection. Too.” The last word is a whisper that barely reaches me.
“Astarot told me the same thing. Dragons are patient, he said. He can wait as long as he must to make sure they’re safe when they fully bond.” I catch Fhord’s gaze, holding it as I add, “Their relationship is every bit as fucked up as ours.”
He nods, dropping his chin for a moment and then looking up at me again. “I’m going to miss you, my little rabbit.” Fhord steps forward to place his hands on my cheeks, his thumbs catching the tears I can’t seem to hold back. “I wish we’d been born into a different world. That we didn’t have these secrets that keep us apart.”
I lean into him, standing on my tiptoes to kiss him lightly, and then step away. Because if I don’t leave now, I might give in to the part of me that wants nothing more than to open myself completely to this man.
“Don’t go yet, little rabbit. We can’t have tomorrow. But that doesn’t mean we have to give up today.”
Something inside me sparks to life with his words. I know as well as he does this is a bad idea. That we shouldn’t let ourselves explore this thing between us. But I want it. I want him.
He watches me for a few seconds and then takes a single step, dropping his head toward me. Hovering there, barely any space between our lips, he pauses, letting me decide if we go any further.
When I kiss him, Fhord is unleashed. His hands sweep out to pull me closer as his mouth opens and his tongue reaches into me. I burn everywhere he touches—the lips and the tongue that tangles with mine; the hands in my hair and on my back, holding me like he’ll never let go; the strong chest underneath my hands, which want nothing more than to feel his skin.
And the erection. Gods, the erection. It grew as soon as our bodies touched, declaring its need for me. I am desperate to caress Fhord’s length, and then feel him inside of me.
When Fhord’s hand drops to my ass, the other reaching around to stroke one of my breasts, a sigh slips from my lips. My core is erupting, demanding his touch. I have never needed anyone more than I need Fhord now. One of my hands leaves his chest, dragging down his stomach to find his erection and squeeze, drawing out a long moan from him.
“Fuck,” he gasps out, his lips finding my earlobe and then whispering down my neck. “You are so fucking dangerous. I need you, my little rabbit. I’ve been trying to deny it, to push you away. I can’t. I need you. Even if it’s only once.”
And then my ears respond. The tingle tells me I’ve lost control of my body and they’ll be emerging soon. But I’m ready. To share this secret with him. Our dragons are mates. He needs to know this about me. To know what I am.
I step back, dropping my head to wrest back control of my body. My limbs are shaking, and I don’t know if it’s fear or passion. I do know, though, that I have to tell him. He can’t find out when my body responds to him. He needs to hear it from me first.
Fhord’s gaze is haunted. “I’m sorry.” He spins around, his hands spearing through his hair. “You’re right. We know we can’t do this.” Turning to look at me again, his heart in his eyes, Fhord lifts a hand but lets it drop before it reaches me. “It’s just … when I saw you with Astarot … I forgot. For a minute, this fucked-up world disappeared, and it was just you and me. The sun and the moon that will always revolve around you—the only light or heat I could ever want.” He inhales again, his eyes shuttering. “It won’t happen again,” he murmurs.
I watch him for a moment, his shoulders tense even as his head droops in front of him. And my heart cracks. “I kissed you, Fhord,” I breathe out. “This is as much my fault as yours. We’ve let this thing grow between us. But that’s not why I stopped.” I pause, a rock forming in my stomach to replace the fire Fhord had launched in me.
His gaze finds me again. And he waits.
“You have to know something first. I need you to hear it from me before you see it.” My fingers are trembling. I can’t believe I’m about to do this. But I trust him.
Stepping closer, erasing the distance between us, I reach for his hand. And then I stare at the floor. I’m about to bare myself to this man I’ve known for a couple of weeks. Somehow, I trust him.
“Nobody but the Dróttning and a few of her guards knows this about me,” I whisper. “And Toffer,” I add with a smile he probably can’t see. Looking up again, I find Fhord’s eyes. “If the Dróttning knew where to find me, she’d have me killed. Or imprisoned. With the rest of the elves.”
Fhord doesn’t speak. He doesn’t move, the hand that holds mine motionless. My heart beats a dozen times as I wait. And then his grip on my hand tightens as the other rises to rest on my cheek.
Danger. Astarot’s warning drops into my thoughts. Searchers are coming. We need to hide.
My stomach clenches.
I just exposed myself completely to this male I met barely two weeks ago.
I know nothing about him, other than what he’s chosen to show me.
But it can’t be a coincidence they’ve arrived on his heels.
The pain and desperation I escaped a decade ago fill me, dragging me back to those wretched days and the handful of soldiers who used deception to try and reach me. They pretended to be allies, only to betray me when I tested their lies.
The realities of this world—the agonizing lessons I learned in the Nest—wash over me.
Everybodybows to the Dróttning.
