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“That’s it,” he whispered. “You’ve dreamed of this, remember? You’re a cerebral creature, my Florence. All those books. All those hours in the library. But nothing can quite prepare you for real life, can it? You’ve dreamed of this moment, longed for it.” He lifted his hips, thrusting into me. His hand reached for my clit, fingers stroking the throbbing bud, and I screamed. “Break for me, beautiful one. Break and blaze.”

His other hand gripped my hips as he thrust into me, and I turned my head, desperate, seeking. His lips met mine. The pace of his thrusts quickened. He shuddered, groaned. “Gods, Florence …”

I sobbed, tears flowing down my cheeks. Not from pain—though there was a little—but from the bliss of this oneness, this moment I had never believed could be real. Not with him. Not like this. Perhaps my sleeping mind had known what my body had not. And then I couldn’t think about it at all. I was falling, gasping, lost in a dark, heated oblivion, and Nyxaris was following me in, his voice primal as he called out to me.

When it was over, his wings furled closer as his arms wrapped around me. Somewhere out there was the real world. With all of its violence and chaos, all of its unsolved problems. It would wait.

Nyxaris nuzzled his face against mine. “We saved a city.”

I snuggled against him, reveling in the feeling of our flesh touching. “I guess we did.”

“No guess about it. We did. You did.”

“I aimed a crossbow badly and missed many times. You did most of the work.”

“Don’t discount yourself,” he said sharply. “I won’t stand for it. You are my rider.” I flushed, and he made a sound of amusement. “Yes, in more ways than one.” He kissed my cheek with impeccable gentleness. “It was your first battle. And you were remarkable.”

“I want to stay like this forever,” I murmured. “Hidden away.”

“I’m afraid we can’t live in this farmer’s field forever,” he said, grinning as he brushed a hand over one of my breasts, and I gasped. “Though, I share your wish.”

“What happens now?” I eyed him curiously.

His eyes darkened. “I think … this must remain between us. For now.”

I stared at him. “You mean, you go back to being a dragon? Just a dragon?”

He frowned. “I believe I can return to that form again tonight, yes.”

I glanced up. “Not night. Morning.” A new day was dawning overhead.

“You are remarkable by starlight or sunlight,” Nyxaris said, touching a finger to my lips. “You are sheer perfection.”

I drew a shaky breath, trying to focus and deciding not to argue right now. I wasn’t perfect. What was more, some extremely harsh realities were slipping unwanted back into my mind, despite being wrapped in his wings and his arms. “Do you think Blake … survived?”

He studied me. “Let’s go and see, shall we?”

“I need to know …” There was a lump in my throat.

“What is it?” he said softly.

“I need to know that I’ll see you again.”

His grin was crooked this time. “We see each other nearly every day.”

“You know what I mean,” I whispered. “What if you turn back and—”

“I can hardly walk back to the castle with you like this, can I?” he teased. “You must remember I feel this way about you, regardless of my form.”

“As do I.” But what was the feeling? I was too afraid to ask. It was too new, too fresh.

“But to have others know … I must think it through first. Yes,” he said more firmly. “I believe I can change back. I believe I will be able to change back to this form again as well. Does that reassure you?”

“It will have to, I suppose.”

“We can always ask the fluffin for assistance. He seems to enjoy sticking his little wet nose in everyone’s business.”

I laughed. “You should give him more credit after tonight.”