Chapter 9
Elana
Melantha had finally fallen asleep in my lap, her tiny body warm against mine, her breathing slow and steady. I traced the edge of her wing with my fingertip, marveling at the fact that I had a baby dragon in my lap.
The moment Melantha had touched me, I felt it, that very same connection I’d had when she’d been inside her egg. But stronger. When she nuzzled my palm, it was like she was trying to tell me she trusted me.
A voice in my head told me that walking away at the end of the weekend was wrong. The thought alone made my chest tighten so hard that it was difficult to breathe. But did I want to rush into something so big? I was so certain I was done with raising children.
I scanned the playroom with growing disbelief. The place was functional; I’d give them that. Every surface and toy was fireproof, every piece of furniture sturdy and well-built. But where was the fun? Where were the colors?
An eight-month-old should be laughing, exploring, and playing.
I picked up a ball that was made of a fire-retardant rubber.
It was the size of my head and weighed a ton, like something meant to survive being chewed on and nudged around with a snout.
The room was missing all the things that were supposed to help a child her age learn to use her hands.
I didn’t believe that was the only reason she hadn’t shifted, but it would contribute to it.
The door clicked open behind me.
I turned, expecting Emmett, but it was the woman from before. What was her name? Luella. She looked shocked to see me. Her eyes widened when she saw me, her lips pressing into a thin line.
“You’re still here.”
“Emmett got called away.”
“And left you alone with Melantha?” Her tone was flat, but her gaze flicked to the little dragon in my arms, who was waking now from her slumber.
Was she worried I’d hurt the little dragon? “I won’t hurt her, if that’s what you’re worried about. I took care of her when she was still an egg.”
“I see.” She stepped closer, her expression unreadable. “She went through a lot as an egg.”
“She did. I’m glad she’s home now.”
“Well, it’s her nap time.” Luella held out her hands. “Give her to me. She gets cranky if she doesn’t nap before dinner.”
Melantha was fully awake now, her golden eyes locked onto Luella. I suddenly felt small and helpless, like I needed to defend myself. The sentiment confused me until I realized that I was feeling Melly’s thought. Which was crazy, wasn’t it?
Melly’s tail swished, and a tiny flicker of flame shot toward the nanny’s outstretched hand.
Luella jerked back, her eyes widening, but she regained her composure quickly. “You see? She’s already agitated.”
I soothed the dragonlet with a soft hand on her back, but did not hand her over.
“Dragons remember things,” Luella said, her voice low.
“Even from when they were inside their eggs. Stress. Fear. It stays with them. Might even be why she won’t shift.
She doesn’t feel safe.” She paused. “We’ve been doing so well lately.
She hasn’t tried to set the place on fire in almost a week. I’d hate to see her regress.”
Something in her tone set my teeth on edge. Maybe it was the years of being gaslit by my ex, but something didn’t sit right, and I wasn’t about to let this slide. “Are you saying I’m stressing her out?”
Luella’s lips curled into a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Oh no, no, no. I’d never suggest such a thing.” She tilted her head, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “But she is in a mood.”
She hadn’t been thirty seconds ago.
“And I wouldn’t want you getting hurt if she decides to torch the place again.” Her voice was perfectly sweet and controlled, but I didn’t fail to pick up the subtle threat in her words.
Then she leaned in as her voice turned into a conspiratorial whisper. “You know, Emmett brought you in because he heard you had a lot of magic. He thought you would be a good source for my father to draw from. He just wants your magic.”
She looked around as if worried that some invisible ear had heard her, then continued.
“You’re not really his type, but he’s willing to pretend until they have you where they want you.
” She sent me a pitying look. “It’s good that you don’t have that much magic after all.
But still, I suggest you get away while you can. ”
Then, with my mouth still open and gawking, she took Melly from my arms. The little dragon clawed at the woman, but the claws didn’t even make a dent.
It was as if the woman was surrounded by a solid force field.
I recognized magic when I saw it. Seth had done the same for me to keep me impervious to harm.
Her words bounced around my head as I stepped out into the hallway and tried to make my way back to my room. The sprawling estate was beginning to look all the same to me, and I was certain I’d gotten lost when one of the ifrits popped up in front of me.
“Blaze at your service. Would you like some help getting back?” He offered with a bow.
“Thank you,” I said. “All the corridors look so similar.”
“They do. But I know the way. Just follow the line.” He swirled into smoke and reformed as a burning line of arrows on the floor, pointing the way.
I was just stepping back into my room when Nak appeared.
“Dinner is in fifteen minutes. The master requests your presence in the dining room.” He turned to Blaze, who was still just a flickering flame on the ground.
“You and your brother can join the rest of us down in the household mess. You can regale us with stories from beyond the mountains.”
Blaze hesitated.
“It’s okay, Blaze. I’ll call you if I need anything. You boys have fun.”
He nodded and followed the goblin away, drifting behind him in his djinn form.
I stepped into my room to change for dinner.
The dining room was too damn hot. And no, it wasn’t because of the fire roaring in the hearth—though that didn’t help one bit—but because of the way Emmett was looking at me like I was the dessert he wanted to devour.
His golden eyes held mine across the table, lingering just a second too long on my lips, like he was imagining doing filthy things to them.
His shirt sleeves were rolled to the elbows, exposing forearms corded with muscle and dusted with hair. It had always amused me that dragons had hair in their human forms. Like, how did their bodies decide which scales turned into hair, and how long it was?
The top button of his dark, silky shirt had come undone, revealing the hollow of his collarbone. His jaw was shadowed with the beginnings of stubble. Full lips showed a devilish grin that made thinking difficult.
Light from the candle between us reflected in his eyes, turning them a molten gold, and his chestnut-colored hair was just messy enough to make me want to run my fingers through.
He sat back in his chair with all the lazy power of a king surveying his domain, but his fingers kept tapping against the table like he was fighting the urge to reach for me.
My traitorous brain kept imagining him doing just that, and much, much more, which was completely inappropriate.
Dragon, remember? I reminded myself several times.
I was here for Omelet, er, I mean Melly, not to jump Emmett in the middle of dessert.
I should’ve feigned a headache after dinner. But Emmett had been so adamant that I stay.
“You’re not leaving before dessert,” he’d rumbled.
I arched a brow. “Says who?”
“Says me. And Vito will be upset you didn’t try the chocolate torte. He worked so hard on it.”
Vito was his demon chef. It was pretty well known that demons had a love of all things physically pleasurable. And food was one of those things. Vito enjoyed having a near limitless budget and carte blanche to feed Emmett’s household.
And as if on cue, the dessert arrived, a rich, decadent chocolate torte with raspberry sauce, and I’d stayed because who in their right mind could say no to that? Emmett’s mouth quirked into an infuriating smile like he knew he’d won.
“Fine,” I’d sighed. “But only because I have a weakness for chocolate.”
His grin was nearly predatory. “I’ll remember that.”
The first bite melted on my tongue, rich and velvety, and I couldn’t stop the small sound of pleasure that escaped me.
“Good?” he murmured, his gaze darkening with something more.
I swallowed. “Too good.”
“Mmm.” He cut into his own slice. His eyes never left mine as his lips engulfed the morsel on his fork.
I swallowed hard as my body went wild, my brain imagining those lips and tongue doing something else on my body.
The air crackled between us like the smallest spark would set it ablaze.
I regretted staying, because things were quickly spiraling out of control.
It had me trying to remember if I’d ever read anything about dragons having special panty-dropping pheromones.
I didn’t think so. But then what else could explain what was happening to me?
I tried to focus on the raspberry-chocolate goodness instead, putting forkfuls of it into my mouth without really tasting.
It didn’t help that he was sitting at the head of the long table, and I was sitting adjacent to him so we could talk.
That meant our legs kept touching, distracting me from why I was really here.
When I looked up from my plate again, I saw the smudge of chocolate clinging to the corner of his mouth. It was cute. It almost made him more human. Before I could think better of it, I reached out, my thumb brushing against his lip to wipe it away.
Emmett’s hand shot up, catching my wrist before I could pull back.
His grip was firm but gentle, his gaze locking onto mine as he brought my thumb to his mouth.
His tongue—it was forked! —flicked out, slow and deliberate, lifting the chocolate from my skin.
My breath caught in my throat as desire blossomed insidiously in my belly.
Why hadn’t I noticed that dragons had forked tongues before?
“You have something too,” he murmured, his voice rough like he too was feeling the impossible pull between us.
“Where?” I asked, the word a mere hoarse whisper.
His free hand cupped my jaw, his thumb brushing my lower lip. “Right here.”
And then he kissed me, his mouth hot and demanding, and I forgot all about the torte, the table, the reasons why I should stop him.
His lips were hot, his tongue sweeping past mine with a possessiveness that had my heart racing.
I gasped into his mouth and he took the opportunity to pull me closer, his body pressing against mine until there was no space left between us.
Heat from his muscular body seeped through my clothes, and his stubble scraped against my face, sending shivers down my spine.
With minds of their own, my hands found their way to his chest, fingers curling into the silky fabric of his shirt.
He growled in response, the sound vibrating against my lips.
With a groan of the legs of the chair on the floor, I found myself pulled right out of my seat and sideways into his lap.
Firm hands slid down to grip my waist, pulling me flush against him.
I gasped again when I felt the hard length of him pressing against my side, insistent and completely unmistakable. A jolt of desire shot straight to my core, and lust filled the space between us. I closed my eyes and arched into him with a whimper, my nails digging into his shoulders.