Chapter 10
Emmett
Her mouth was fire beneath mine, hot, all-consuming, and magical. Perfectly befitting a dragon.
I kissed her like a monster possessed, because that was what she’d turned me into. I reveled in the way her lips parted for me, the way her nails dug into my shoulders hard enough to leave marks, and the way her body arched into mine like a puzzle piece finding its home.
This was everything I’d spent months trying to ignore after our dance at the gala. My hands slid into her hair, fisting the silky strands as I tilted her head back, deepening the kiss until she whimpered against my mouth. The sound shot straight to my cock, and I growled.
Ours. She’s ours. Mark her. Claim her. Keep her.
I froze mid-kiss, my lips still touching hers. The demand in my dragon’s voice was primal and absolute. It scared me. There was so much need in it, and I’d gone through my entire life never needing anything from anyone.
Elana, feeling a shift, stiffened. She shoved away, and I felt her absence immediately.
“This is a mistake,” she said, her voice shaking. Her lips were swollen from my kiss, but there was panic in her eyes, and her chest rose and fell too fast. I knew she was about to bolt.
I opened my mouth to argue, but she continued talking, the tone hardening with every word.
“And it won’t work anyway.” The look in her eyes was sharp and accusing.
“Like I said before, seducing me so I’ll stay to care for Melly won’t work on someone like me.
I’m only here for the weekend. I’ll offer parenting advice if you need it after, but I’m leaving on Monday.
So you don’t need to fake your attraction to me. ”
The words hit like a whole-ass dump truck of ice water.
“You think this is fake?” I demanded, my voice still rough from the need that had surged through my body.
I grabbed her wrist before she could pull away and pressed her palm against the hard length straining against my zipper.
“Do you think I’m that good an actor? Because this is real. Very, very real.”
She made a choked sound, and the sudden explosion of lust that scented the air gave her true feelings away.
“Anything can be faked for the right price,” she said after a pause.
Her cryptic words hung like daggers in the air between us. What the hell did that mean?
Before I could demand an answer, she stood, turned on her heels, and walked out.
She was magnificent in her ire, her shoulders stiff, her steps quick.
The door clicked shut behind her, leaving me still sitting in front of my half-finished raspberry torte with my pulse roaring in my ears and my dragon snarling in my head.
Find her. Make her ours.
That was easy for my dragon to say, but reality needed tact.
It is easy. Take her. Steal her. Keep her.
I clenched my fists, my nails—more claws now since my dragon was jonesing to be let out—digging into my palms hard enough to draw blood. I knew better than to go after her. She was upset, and something told me there was more to it than she let on.
Frustrated, I stepped up onto the balcony and looked toward the peaks across the valley. And then, with one powerful leap, the wings burst from my back and I was airborne. Seconds later, I was in my full dragon form and looking down at the valley I called home.
I returned to my fortress after Melly’s bedtime, the night air cool against my scales as I glided in to land on one of the balconies.
My daughter slept a lot, but then again, from my research, most dragonlets did.
They were like most babies in that regard; they ate a lot, slept a lot, and grew a lot. Big, oversized, fire-breathing babies.
I found Luella waiting for me just outside the playroom doors in something so diaphanous that it might as well not have existed. The fabric clung to her curves, showing everything. Her lips were painted as were her eyes, and the look she sent me couldn’t be misconstrued.
She’d been hinting at her interest in me for weeks, but this was the first time she’d been so forward.
“Lord Emmett,” she purred, stepping closer. “You’re back late.”
I sidestepped her without breaking stride. “Luella, what is this?”
She pouted. “You still think of me as a girl. But I’ve grown up, Emmett. Look at me.” She arched her back, thrusting out her chest.
She was a beauty, that much I could not deny.
And I would have been tempted once, if only for some strings-free fun, though it would break my rule of not dallying with those who worked for me.
The rule had nothing to do with human sensibilities or their arbitrary standards of appropriateness; it was purely about keeping my life complication-free.
But I found she did not interest me at all.
There was a certain artifice to her that did not appeal in the slightest. Also, I wasn’t sure that her father had not put her up to it and she was simply doing it out of some sense of duty.
“Luella, you are a woman indeed, and a beautiful one at that. But I am not interested.”
There was something akin to hurt in her eyes, and her lips twisted into something ugly before she schooled her features again.
“You know where to find me if you change your mind,” were her last words before she turned and walked away.
I sighed. My life had gotten so much more complicated in the last year. A year ago, the only worry I’d had was about the small town of magical beings congregating in the foothills of my mountain.
Shaking my head, I slipped inside the room, moving quietly until I reached the wrought-iron crib.
Built to withstand the light toasting expected from a dragon child, I’d had it custom-made for my baby.
Melly was curled up inside, her tiny wings tucked behind her.
I scooped her up carefully, cradling her against my chest.
Gods, she was so small and so precious. I hadn’t expected to be a father, but one look at her and I knew I wanted nothing more.
“Come on, little one,” I murmured, carrying her out of the room and up the stairs toward my personal suite.
I was halfway down the corridor when I nearly collided with Elana, who was just stepping out of her room with an empty cup in hand.
From the smell of it, it had been a chamomile tea.
Her hair was slightly damp, like she’d just showered.
The scent of her shampoo was something sweet and floral that made my dragon stir.
She must’ve brought her own toiletries because the fragrance was new to me.
It accentuated her natural scent and made my dragon want to roll around in it.
“Oh,” she said, blinking up at me.
I could tell by the hesitancy in her gaze that she was thinking of our interaction from earlier. But when she saw Melly in my arms, her features softened.
“I’m just getting Melly into bed,” I said, somewhat awkwardly, and adjusted my hold on my daughter.
Wow. Smooth. What else could I possibly be doing?
“I see. Can I see her nursery?”
I hesitated. The nest was sacred. It was also up in my personal floor of the castle, a place I didn’t let anyone else visit.
It was my sanctuary. Well, at least here in the castle.
I had another nest hidden away in a cave in the mountains, my true inner sanctum where I kept my treasure hoard.
I wasn’t kidding when I said dragons were territorial.
She saw the hesitation and understood. “It’s in your personal space. Desmon was very strict about that too. Though he eventually let me go up and tidy it.”
“Yes, it is,” I said with a grin, my tone turning playful. “I could let you see it, but then I’d have to kidnap you and keep you there for the rest of the night.” I lifted my brows suggestively.
She rolled her eyes, but I didn’t miss the way her cheeks flushed. “You, sir, are a shameless flirt.”
“Only with you,” I shot back, grinning.
She huffed, shaking her head, but there was a smile tugging at her lips. “Goodnight, dragon.”
“G’night, pretty witch.”
She turned to walk away, and I couldn’t help but notice her slippers. There, on her feet, were two little mice with oversized ears, bouncing with every step. Cute. And definitely not what I’d expected from the poised and elegant woman. My little witch had layers.
I watched her go, my dragon growling in my chest.
Ours.
I clenched my jaw, forcing the thought away. That was a complication I didn’t need right now. Not with her believing that I was only feigning interest to get her to stay. And I wasn’t even sure my dragon was right.
I ascended the final flight of stairs and pushed open the door to the uppermost floor of my home. This was my domain. The space sprawled before me, a chaotic shrine—or was that graveyard?—to every hobby I’d ever latched onto in my endless quest to stay busy.
A long life meant many years staving off boredom.
A half-finished model ship sat on a workbench, its sails meticulously painted but still unattached.
Beside it, a shelf groaned under the weight of unassembled drones, their sleek black frames gathering dust. A vintage record player sat in the corner, next to a collection of old jazz albums. A guitar leaned against the wall, its strings long out of tune.
A stack of unread books teetered precariously on a side table.
An easel stood in the corner, a half-finished painting of the valley below still gracing its frame.
Then there was an oak desk buried under a pile of blueprints, sketchbooks, and scattered tools.
The massive room was so filled with abandoned projects that I was embarrassed to show anyone. Then there were the things that actually managed to keep my attention.
A high-end gaming PC hummed softly, its screen still frozen on the menu of a game I’d been playing recently.
Video games were a great way to pass the time.
And I’d dove into them head first, wasting hours and hours of my days in them for a little over a decade.
Recently, that had also lost its appeal.
A weight bench sat nearby, its barbell still loaded with plates from my last failed attempt to start yet another fitness routine.
I’d lost interest in that too. There were also games and challenges demons and dragons played.
They kept me entertained whenever there was something interesting to bet on.
But even those bored me more often than not.
It was easy to lose interest in things when I’d done everything thrice already.
We’ve never had a mate.
Oh, shut it.
At the opposite end were two doors, both of which I kept open, since I was the only one allowed up here. The one on the left led to my bedroom. I headed through the one on the right and placed Melly into her nest.
A ring of smooth, fire-scorched boulders formed the outer edge, but inside, the nest was a cocoon of comfort.
A circular mat, custom-made, thick, soft, and enchanted with magic, lined the bottom.
The blankets, too, were spelled to be fireproof, as were the plush pillows.
A few of Melly’s favorite toys were half-buried in the mess—a chewed-up rubber lizard, a singed wooden block, and a single fluffy fabric ear, the only remaining part of a plush mouse Melly had destroyed.
I laid her inside, and she stretched, waking briefly before snuggling into her bed and falling right back to sleep.