Page 60 of Red Dragon’s Flame

And she had to let him get his anger out. He always held it in—he was always responsible and considerate and patient and kind.

But if they really were going to be together, they had to be able to be all of themselves. Not just their public selves.

So they fought. It went on and on, neither having the advantage. At first she thought he must be holding back, but after a while she saw he wasn’t.

They were a perfect match, here inside his game.

The realization of what that meant made her miss a step, and she barely dodged his sword cut in time.

She dance back, trying to recover herself.

Mikah had made this game. He’d put only one other person in it—her. He’d programmed everything about her.

And he’d made her his perfect match. Just as strong, just as agile, just as good a fighter.

He respected her enough to make her his equal in every way. He saw her as strong, not helpless. That’s what he wanted, what he’d given himself inside the game.

Not a damsel in distress. A partner.

She stepped back, raised her sword, and said, “I yield.”

Chapter 27

Mikah stared at her. Then he asked, “Why?”

She said, “Because you made me strong, in the game. As strong as you. You believe in me.”

He still didn’t say anything, and she picked up her courage. “And because… I do care about you. A lot.”

It felt like everything went suddenly still. That thing between them, the connection she’d felt the very first night in the penthouse, shimmered to life.

Slowly, Mikah dropped to one knee, reversing his sword grip so he held it upright, with the point pressing into the ground.

He bowed his head, as you would before a king or queen you were swearing fealty to.

Devon was speechless. She didn’t know what she’d expected him to do, but it wasn’t this.

Mikah raised his head and looked into her eyes, blood still appearing to run from his wounds. “You are my mate,” he said. “My love. The heart of my hoard, the most precious treasure. My strength is yours to command, always.”

Devon felt her knees buckling, and she sank to the ground, tears pouring down her cheeks.

He loved her. It was amazing—and terrifying. All of this was terrifying. And for the first time, she could admit it.

“I’m so scared,” she said. “I don’t want to die, but even more, I don’t want to be helpless. Just lying in a bed, unable to move, forever.”

The sword vanished, and Mikah took her hand in both of his. She was shaking now, trying to hold back her sobs. “Don’t make me,” she said. “If the fire leaves me, don’t make me live like that.”

He sat down in front of her, her hand pressed to his cheek. “You can’t make me end it,” he said. “I’m not strong enough for that.”

“Please.”

He kissed her hand, then pressed it to his cheek again. “Shh,” he said. “We’ll find another way. I promise you, we will.”

He held her while she cried, and then swept her up and carried her out of the game, over to his hoard. He conjured thick robes over the bed of gold, and laid her down on it. It seemed to move underneath her, conforming to her body, making her comfortable. It hummed soothingly around her.

Mikah lay down beside her, their clothes vanishing as he did. He made love to her with dazzling intensity, touching every part of her, stroking her with fingers and claws, his eyes going dragon and human in turn.

And underneath it all, that rumbling growl in his chest, the voice of his dragon.