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Kind.A word no one had ever applied to me.

I did not feel very kind. I did not have very kind thoughts looking at her right now. No, my thoughts could be classified as decidedlyunkind. They were too dirty for that. Too wicked.Wrapped up in want and need for a wife who wanted nothing to do with me.

And I couldn’t stop myself. Couldn’t help reaching out and cupping her face, brushing a thumb against the tender curve of her cheek. “I’m not a kind man.”

Her throat worked. That necklace lifted on the rise of a breath, drawing my gaze back to her chest. Her neckline was modest, but the swell of her breasts was still the most enticing thing I had ever seen. My mouth craved that skin. Longed to press my lips to the flushed flesh, to taste her, love her there, worship her.

Her hand closed over mine, holding fast, her fingers squeezing me for a long moment before she pulled my hand away with what felt like reluctance... and that gave me hope.

“Fell...” she started.

The sound of my name on her lips, in that trembling voice, with those fire-gold eyes fixed on me, sank through me like a heated knife through butter.

She had set the parameters... defined what we would be, what we would not be. I was the one hoping for more. Hoping foolishly, futilely, that she would just change her mind. I was the one unable to pull myself away, unable to move myself away from that crackling fire, that warm and radiating and beckoning heat.

She lifted her hand and flattened it over my chest, her fingers splayed wide over my heart, that X finding me. My heart leapt, trying to get through bone and blood and flesh to meet it, to reach it—our bodies desperate to merge and lock together like matching pieces in a puzzle.

Her eyes flared wide, and I knew she felt it, too.

“Tamsyn, I’m a man. A warrior. Better with my sword than with words and manners. I’m not kind.” I exhaled.

She opened her mouth and closed it. Her fingers flexed over my chest but did not lift away, and that was something. It wasn’t no. It wasn’t a door slamming in my face.

“I—” she started, her expression softening. “I like what you are, Fell.”

I leaned in, tentative, wary.

She leaned in, too, meeting me halfway, tilting her face up.

I was almost there. Almost to her mouth.

And then a loud horn pealed across the day. Shouts went up, hurling through the air like cannon fire.

I leaned across her to peer out the window.

“What is it?” she asked over another blare of the horn, signaling for all to take cover.

I immediately spotted warriors rushing through the courtyard and along the palisade walls, just as civilians raced screaming through the barbican, seeking shelter within the fortress. My gaze shot to the clouds, searching for any hint of wings or fire as the horn sounded again.

The shouts continued, filling the air like smoke. I was finally able to make out the words.

They’re coming!

30

Tamsyn

WAIT HERE.” FELL’S WORDS RANG IN THE AIR, THE TERSEcommand fading away along with the sound of his footsteps as he rushed from the room.

Did that ever work? Perhaps some people stayed behind when they were told, but not me. I had to know. I had to see for myself, and staring out my tower window was not what I had in mind.

What if it was another dragon?

Heart racing, I ran from the chamber and down into the main hall. Fell was nowhere in sight. It was chaos, packed tight with bodies and animals seeking shelter from whatever was coming.

I pushed through, past people swarming in the opposite direction, desperate for refuge within the walls of the fortress. Amid the cries and the sobs, a single panicked word rose up on the air again and again and again. Like an endless, repeating wave.Dragon. Dragon. Dragon.

Could it be?