11. Aries
Aries
T he color has yet to return to Paige’s cheeks, and I find myself desperate to make her feel safe again. The need to shield her is far stronger than it should be given that we just met.
But it’s a siren’s call that’s impossible to ignore.
Rather than wait for her invitation, I walk to her dresser and begin opening the drawers.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
“Looking for something for you to sleep in.”
I expect her to argue as that seems to be what she enjoys doing. So, when she simply sighs and says, “Oh,” my concern for her grows. As does my anger. My rage over another being spying on her in such a delicate state has my jaw clenching as I struggle to rein in my beast.
He wants blood.
And as for most instances—Paige and the mate call aside—my dragon and I understand each other.
Finding only socks in the first drawer, I close it and open the second.
There are swaths of fabric, and I pick through them, trying to identify if they’re suitable for sleeping, when my hand brushes something hard.
I pick it up and hold it out, too surprised for words at the sight of such a brutal weapon in the home of this gentle female.
“Is this...?” I eventually turn to where Paige sits on the bed and find her smirking.
“A flail? Yes, it is.”
I examine the spiked head hanging from the wooden handle by the loose rope. “And have you used it?” I ask, looking for evidence left of such usage.
“A few times,” she says smugly.
“Hmm.” I sniff the spiked head. No blood. “Truly?” I ask.
She rolls her eyes and huffs out a breath. “Fine, I’ve … swung it ominously at a few goblins, all right? Blossom sent them back inside their book before I could do anything else.”
“I see.” I try not to laugh.
“I would have kicked their asses,” she defends.
“I’m sure you would have.”
“Don’t patronize me, dragon. Someone just peeped on me in the shower.
If ever there was a time for me to have a weapon in my pajama drawer, it’s now.
” Her scowl is endearing. As is this formidable weapon in the possession of someone who could never hurt a fly.
But I have the sense not to say any of that out loud.
Instead, I return the weapon to its hiding place.
“Third drawer,” she says, guiding me to her sleeping attire at last.
I follow her instructions and open a drawer stocked to the brim with soft fabrics patterned with fuzzy animals. I sift through until my eyes land on a fabric printed with tiny baby dragons—which look nothing like the real thing, and yet...my heart swells.
“Here.” I hand them to her, and her lips quirk in the barest hint of a smile.
“You would choose these,” she says. But she takes the clothing I hand her, and I move for the door.
“Where are you going?” she asks, her voice pitching high with fear.
I turn back. “To give you some privacy.”
She bites her lip, and my dick twitches at the way she looks up at me from lowered lashes. “Will you... stay? I don’t want to be alone.”
My cock and my heart both scream so loudly that I have no choice but to say, “Of course.”
Instead of leaving, I turn around and face the wall. My dragon rages at that, but the gentlemanly behavior my mother has ingrained in me can do nothing else. I wait, arms crossed, while Paige dresses. My mind conjures images of her naked body, wet from the shower and trembling from fear.
I might have only been there to protect her, but now that the danger has passed, I can’t help appreciating the mental images of her beautiful body as she’d stood before me. The swell of her breasts and those taut, pink nipples. What they’d be like to touch, to taste—
“Okay. All done.”
Her voice snaps me out of my daydreaming, and I tuck my erection as best I can before facing her again.
Her wet hair hangs over her shoulders, framing her face in a way that makes her seem both innocent and intimate.
The clothing she wears is loose against her curvy frame, but I don’t need tighter lines to notice where her breasts push against her shirt.
My erection aches for release. I avert my eyes before it can drive me to take her right here in this room.
Paige slips beneath the covers, reminding me what I’ve just agreed to, and I try not to think about her warm body curled against mine in that soft bed.
“I’ll sleep on the floor,” I say, my voice strangely hoarse in my ears.
“What?” Paige sits up again, frowning. “No way. The bed is more than big enough for both of us. Even if you are twice the size of anyone else I know.”
My dragon hums at her praise.
“I don’t mind,” I say.
“Aries.” The way she says my name shatters my resolve. “Please. I’m not... I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” she adds, “But having someone watch me in the shower is just...” She shudders, and my will to resist vanishes.
I pull my shirt off and let it drop to the floor.
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” I say, rounding the bed and stretching out next to her. My skin prickles where I can feel her gaze on me, but I don’t look up as I lie beside her and prop an arm behind my head.
I’m careful to keep enough space between us, and I don’t bother with the blankets. My dragon urges me to scoot closer, to curl around her, shielding her petite frame with mine, but Paige made it clear before that she doesn’t want this.
And I can’t want this.
No matter how badly my dragon does.
I wait while she settles in and don’t bother to point out that she’s left the light on. We both fall silent, and I listen for signs of her breathing more evenly as sleep takes her over. After several minutes, though, she shifts, rolling toward me in the soft light.
Her eyes are large and trusting as she looks up at where I’ve propped myself against her headboard.
“Will you tell me about your world?” she asks, startling me with the question.
“Why?” I ask.
“Honestly? I could use the distraction right now. But also because I’ve never been anywhere. For someone who lives her life buried in fiction, I want to know something real about somewhere other than here. Please?”
“You aren’t allowed to leave?” I ask. She’d told me that when her world was destroyed, she was forced to remain behind. But I never thought that would mean she wasn’t allowed to leave the confines of the library. It sounds like imprisonment.
“I’ve been a few places,” she defends and then, more softly, adds, “But only to empty worlds.”
“Empty?”
“No people around,” she explains. “I’ve seen some gorgeous scenery. Breathtaking waterfalls, majestic mountains, sandy beaches. But... nothing inhabited.”
“Why not?”
“Hoc says it’s dangerous.”
I wait, but she doesn’t say more, so I decide to keep my opinions of this Hoc to myself—for now. Though, the imagery of him keeping her locked away here, high in this proverbial tower, ring far too close to fairy tales my mother used to read to me as bedtime stories.
Which begs the question. Is he truly her hero? Or a villain?
“What’s it like where you’re from?” she asks. “Do they have libraries?”
Her question makes me smile.
“Astronia is a vast and wild place,” I say, letting my mind drift to the memory of my home—a comforting thought as I’m stuck in this tiny room unable to shift and feel the open skies beneath my wings.
“Wild as in barbarians roam and pillage?” she asks, eyes wide.
“Some,” I say gravely. “The biggest threat to my people is the horde who seek to overthrow us and rule the land with cruelty and brutality.”
“What is the hoard?”
“An army of orcs whose land borders our own far to the north. They live beyond the mountains in mostly ice, and they want our land for their own. Unfortunately, they want to wipe out our people in order to have it.”
“They sound lovely,” she deadpans, and I smirk at the obvious sarcasm.
“Aside from the war overshadowing the lands, Astronia is lovely,” I tell her. “So much green. Mountains taller than anything you’ve ever seen. And at the heart of it, my home, Nemos Castle.”
She lifts her head off the pillow, eyes wide. “You live in a castle?”
“Well, technically, it belongs to my mother until I take the throne but—”
“ Throne ?” she squeaks, sitting up fully now. Her tangled, damp hair hangs in her face, but she shoves it back, staring at me in wary disbelief. “You never said anything about a throne.”
Now, it’s my turn to shrug. “You never asked.”
“Sarcasm, hilarious,” she drawls, and I grin, but she only narrows her eyes further.
“What sort of throne are we talking?” she asks, and I wonder if her talents don’t lie in interrogation rather than guarding these books.
Because when she looks at me like that, I’ll happily tell her any secret she wishes to know.
Cut me open and spill my heart out, for this woman can have it.
“A king’s throne,” I say. “The one I will inherit when my time comes.”
Her jaw drops. “Are you seriously telling me that I spilled my pumpkin spice latte and inadvertently freed the king of all dragons?”
“I’m not a king yet,” I remind her, amused by the way her eyes have widened to saucers.
She’s clearly impressed by my title, and while the females at home annoy me with their adoration, Paige is different.
My beast finds her awe very flattering. He wants her to think he’s special. He wants her to like him too.
It’s the most childish, ridiculous feeling I’ve ever felt—and I can’t seem to make it stop.
“So, you’re a prince,” she breathes as if to herself.
“I am the eldest prince. The Nemos heir to the throne of Astronia.” I try not to notice my chest puffing a little as I give her my full title. Paige simply gawks.
I wait, my dragon hoping for more compliments. Instead, she groans and drops her face into her hands.
“I can’t believe this,” she says, her words muffled by the fact that her palms are pressed to her lips.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“This is horrible,” she says and looks up again.
“That I’m the heir?”