Page 112
Story: Kenna's Dragon
“Of course there is, ember.”
I believe him, I really do, and his words make a fresh round of tears gather in my eyes.
Still, there’s a lingering pulse of guilt and uncertainty in his expression. He’s holding back, leashing himself, not quite able to give in completely.
What’s he waiting for?
I don’t need any more time. Not when some part of me has been so damn certain for so damn long and I’ve had to convince myself otherwise over and over again.
We were always headed here.
From that very first day at the Bureau.
From the moment his golden eyes locked onto me.
I’m breathless, reckless, standing on the edge of the cliff between what is and what could be. It should scare me more, make me want to turn and run and stand on my pride, but I push all those doubts aside as I meet his golden eyes once more.
If there’s ever been a time to be absolutely committed to a potentially life-ruining mistake, it’s right now.
“Claim me, then.”
Ewan’s eyes widen, black pupils dilating and nearly eclipsing all of that gold. “Kenna…”
“Please. I’m here. Right here. I’ve been here since the beginning, and I’m not going anywhere.”
He tangles a hand in my hair, clasping roughly and tipping my head back to expose my throat.
“Do you know what you’re asking for, ember? Hundreds of years, shackled to—”
“Bound to you,” I whisper. “Hundreds of years by your side.”
Ewan’s fangs lengthen as I speak, and my heart rate ticks up in response. His eyes drop to my throat like he can see the pulse of hot, needy blood beneath my skin.
“No matter what else we need to figure out,” I say, “I love you, Ewan. I—”
My words cut off with Ewan’s mouth crashing into the side of my throat, and with the sharp, shocking slide of his fangs into me. A hot jolt of pain follows, but in seconds it’s melting into a smooth warmth that flows from his bite, down my neck and into the center of my chest.
I swear I can feel the very moment our bond latches on, and if Ewan’s groan against my skin is any indication, he can, too.
He draws deep, taking me into him, savoring the feel and the taste of me until he pulls away with a rough gasp.
“Kenna,” he growls. “Gods, I canfeelyou. I can—”
Whatever else he has to say is lost in the crush of my lips on his. There will be time to talk later.
The warmth of his skin is mixed with the sharp copper of my blood and the rasp of his fangs over my lip as I devour him. I might not be able to mark him in the same way he’s just marked me, but that doesn’t mean I can’t let him know in no uncertain terms that I’ve claimed him, too.
When we come up for air, Ewan’s eyes are blazing, his wings drawn forward to wrap around me. He tightens his grip on my hair and tips my head back so he can get a look at my neck.
“My mate,” he whispers, and there’s no holding back the tears now. They fall freely, and he leans in to kiss each one, murmuring it over and over again. “My brave mate. My vibrant, beautiful mate.”
“Mine,” I whisper in reply, catching his mouth in another deep kiss.
It might go on for hours, days, weeks, and when we finally pull away, Blair’s eyes are lit with triumph and possession, a dragon who’s captured the crowning jewel of his hoard.
“You’re moving in with me,” he says gruffly, leaning into my neck to kiss the mark he’s left and sending a jolt of white-hot arousal through my veins. “When we get back to Seattle. And I’ll talk to Cleo at the Bureau to see if you can get your job back.”
Bossy. So bossy, my dragon.
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