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THE RETURN FLIGHT
Math’s dragon soared through the sky above the craggy mountains, the icy air blowing over the snow-capped peaks and against his leathery wings. He looked through the dragon’s eyes and coasted on the wind, flying back toward Las Vegas.
Toward Bethany.
He shook his head, and the rushing air caught his horns and scales as he flew.
Not Bethany.
Just back toward Las Vegas and a thief at the Dragon’s Den Casino that needed to be dealt with.
And some sea monsters in the fountain.
And angel investors arriving in under two weeks.
Investors that were actual angels.
Angels hated chaos, disorganization, and theft.
So did Math.
So did Bethany.
She didn’t like disorder any more than he did, considering the way her little nose wrinkled up and her jewel-toned apparitions scurried around with such vigor and earnestness, intent on making everything perfect.
He could hardly wait to get back to her. He should arrive in time for supper. Maybe they could have another date. Maybe he’d order room service into the penthouse suite so they wouldn’t waste much time eating before he could touch her soft skin.
And breathe in her delectable scent of lemons and springtime.
And taste the feminine musk of her body on his tongue.
And bury himself in her warmth and fragrance, losing himself in her.
Math shook his head again, trying to concentrate on the casino’s embezzlement problem. It had to be someone in the accounting division, probably in Accounts Receivable. There were a few dragons in there but mostly other shifters. It could be anyone, of course. Math couldn’t allow his bias toward other dragons to influence his thinking. Any person, natural or supernatural, could be the culprit, and his dragonish impulse to protect his hoard made him angry at the embezzler.
Dragons have deep instincts to protect their hoards and their mates.
Because a dragonmate is a precious thing, more precious than gold and glittering gems and black lines on spreadsheets, a treasure beyond measure and the center of the dragon’s life.
An image swept through him: Bethany with the glowing eyes of a dragonmate, dark glitter running through her irises as she smiled at him, dark fire in her eyes as she beckoned him to their bed, and him crawling in after her and allowing himself to take her like a dragon, able to use his strength and power instead of holding back because humans are fragile.
Power surged through him, and he jetted ahead in his flight toward Las Vegas.
Their days would be fleeting touches and whispers, and their nights would be lovemaking and laughter. His loneliness would ease, just knowing he could return to her at the end of the day. Even now, when he oversaw her work at the casino, that ache of his solitary life was lighter and easier to bear.
Dragons had lived in clans for only a few centuries. Before that, dragons were hermits, living alone until they found their dragonmate and she became their whole world.
Bethany was already his whole world.
If they made the mating bond—he’d heard whispers in high school about the intensity of the soul-deep tether—he’d never have to live without her. If she died, his heart would die with her, and he would follow her to the next world.
He flew harder, his great wings beating the freezing air above the snow-dusted, craggy mountains, straining to get to Bethany.
