Page 31 of Born in Fire (Dragonblood Dynasty #2)

Chapter 31

D orian

The door closes behind Caleb and Elena, leaving a silence that feels like the first real breath I’ve taken in hours. The constant weight of Caleb’s skepticism and Elena’s analytical gaze has been like a stone on my chest. Now it’s just us—just Juno, sitting on my couch in clothes too big for her frame, looking simultaneously lost and more present than she’s been since I found her.

“They mean well,” I say, dropping into the armchair across from her. “Caleb’s just…”

“Protective,” she finishes. “He’s worried.”

I study her face—the same delicate features I’ve memorized, but with something new behind her eyes. A light that wasn’t there before.

“You’re handling this better than anyone could expect,” I say.

She shrugs, a gesture so familiar it makes my chest ache. “What choice do I have? Fall apart? Seems counterproductive.”

A laugh escapes me—rusty, surprised. “You always were practical.”

“Tell me what happened,” she says, leaning forward. “How did I die? Tell me everything.”

I hesitate, weighing how much to share, how fast. But the determined set of her jaw tells me she won’t accept anything less than the truth.

“There was an… accident,” I say, not sure if I can shock her with the truth about dragons yet. “You were in the Towers when a pillar collapsed. It nearly fell on me, but you pushed me out of the way, and it…” I swallow hard, “it crushed you.”

“Oh.” Her voice is small. “You were there. When it happened.”

“Until the end. Every moment,” I say, trying not to relive those moments. I don’t need to. She’s back.

“And I died. Really died.”

“Yes, Juno. It really happened.” I gather that she’s trying to come to terms with the idea, so I don’t try to sugarcoat it. “I watched you take your last breath. I placed you on the funeral pyre. I lit the wood that burned you. And I waited there until every last flame had died down.” I frown as I say this, remembering the strange figure that I thought I had seen. The one I’d dismissed as my imagination. Now, I’m not so sure anymore.

“Okay,” she says quietly with a small nod, as if she’s satisfied with my answer.

“What do you remember?” I ask, hoping we’ll get to the bottom of this somehow if we go through it again.

She closes her eyes, concentration furrowing her brow. “Ash. I was lying in it. Cold. Naked.” Her eyes open, surprisingly calm. “It was dawn. The forest was quiet except for birds. I knew I should be afraid, but I wasn’t. I just felt… new.”

My throat tightens. While I was drowning in grief, she was being reborn.

“A logging crew found me,” she continues. “One of them gave me a blanket. They thought I was a hiker who’d been attacked or had some kind of breakdown. They took me to a hospital in a small town outside Seattle.”

“What happened there?”

“The doctors were confused. My vitals were strange—heart rate too fast, temperature too high. They thought their equipment was malfunctioning.” A small smile touches her lips. “They wanted to run tests, but I knew I couldn’t stay. I didn’t know why, just that I needed to leave. So I took some scrubs and walked out.”

“How did you get to Craven Towers?”

“I walked a while, then flagged down a truck. The driver gave me a ride. I didn’t know where I was going, just that I needed to be there.” Her gaze meets mine. “Then I saw you, and everything… clicked. Not memories, exactly. But certainty.”

I nod, understanding perfectly. The moment I saw her across the plaza, something in me recognized her, beyond logic or reason.

“What about Tyler?” I ask, the name bitter on my tongue. “What happened?”

Her expression darkens. “When I got to the Towers, he came out of nowhere. Like he’d been waiting for me.” She shivers. “He said I was his fiancée. That I’d disappeared. That he’d been looking for me.”

“And you didn’t remember him.”

“No. But I knew he was lying. Something about him felt wrong.” Her hands clench in her lap. “He grabbed me, tried to force me to go with him. Said I belonged to him. He hurt me.” Her voice hardens. “And I just… reacted. There was heat, light, and then—”

“He was gone,” I finish.

She nods, watching me carefully. “Does that frighten you? What I did?”

Oh God, if only she knew.

A laugh escapes me, dark and genuine. “Frighten me? Juno, if I’d known he’d found you, I’d have torn him apart myself. The bastard stalked you for months after you left him. He was toxic, manipulative. An abuser. You were right to defend yourself.”

Relief softens her features. “I didn’t mean to kill him. I just wanted him to stop.”

“I know.” I smile gently. “You’d worked very hard to take that power back before…”

“Before I died,” she finishes for me. “Tell me more about that time.”

I lean forward, elbows on my knees. “What do you want to know?”

She takes a deep breath. “Everything. Start with the basics.”

“Your full name is Juno Elizabeth Ashford. You’re twenty-eight. You worked as a barista at the Grind it’s gold now, too, different but not… just like the rest of her.

Her thighs part for me, instinctive, trusting. I settle between them, breathing her in. She’s already wet, already wanting. The scent of her arousal hits me like a drug, flooding my system with need. My dragon stirs beneath my skin, possessive and hungry.

Mine. Found. Returned.

I hold her gaze as I lower my head, closing my mouth over her clit. The first taste of her breaks something in me—a dam of grief and longing. I groan against her center, holding her hips as they buck upward.

“Oh God,” she gasps, head thrown back.

I work her slowly at first, relearning what she likes. Long, languid strokes of my tongue that make her whimper. Light suction that has her hands fisting in the sheets. When I slip two fingers inside her and find that spot that makes her walls tighten, she cries out—a sharp, broken sound that goes straight through me.

Her skin grows warmer beneath my hands—unnaturally so, but I’m beyond caring. Heat radiates from her body like she’s burning from within. My dragon responds, my own temperature rising to match hers. Steam rises where our skin meets, the air around us superheated.

I work my fingers in and out of her as I keep suckling on her clit. She’s so goddamn responsive, meeting each thrust, each stroke of my tongue with desperate need.

“Dorian. Dorian . Please, don’t stop—”

I have no intention of stopping. Not until she falls apart beneath me. Not until she remembers what it feels like to be worshipped. I drive her higher, harder, feeling the tension build in her body. Her thighs begin to tremble against my shoulders. She’s close.

“Right there, gorgeous,” I murmur against her. “Come for me.”

She breaks with a cry that might be my name, might be something older. Her body clenches around my fingers, her back arching impossibly as pleasure crashes through her. Light flickers beneath her skin, her hands glowing where they’re tangled in my hair.

I lick and suck at her until her movements grow less frantic, and she finally goes limp. Then I kiss my way back up her body, savoring the aftershocks that ripple through her. Her cheeks are flushed, that strange inner light making her seem almost otherworldly. When my mouth meets hers, she kisses me fiercely, tasting herself on my tongue.

“I need you,” she whispers against my lips. “Inside me. Now.”

There’s a half-second where conscience tugs—she’s just back, barely remembers me, maybe this is too much—but her hands are already guiding me, wrapping around my cock and positioning me at her entrance. Her legs wrap around my waist, heels digging into my lower back.

“Please,” she breathes, and I’m lost.

I push into her slowly, giving her time to stretch around my shaft. She’s slick and hot and tight, perfect around me. It’s almost too much—the sensation, the emotion, all of it threatening to overwhelm me. I pause when I’m fully seated, hovering over her. Our breaths mingle in the small space between us.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” I say.

She shakes her head, cupping my face in her hands. “It’s not enough.”

When I finally move, we both gasp. The connection is electric, transcendent—like nothing we’ve ever shared before. Her heat meets mine, building between us until I’m sure we’ll combust. Each thrust draws sounds from her I’ve never heard—deeper, rawer, almost animal.

Her eyes meet mine, wide with wonder. In their depths, something flickers—recognition, revelation. For a heartbeat, I think she remembers everything.

“I know you,” she whispers, fingers tracing the line of my jaw. “I don’t know how, but I know you.”

“You do,” I agree, voice rough with emotion. “You have since the beginning.”

I shift, changing the angle, driving deeper. Her breath hitches, her nails scoring my back. The pain is sweet, grounding me when everything else feels dreamlike.

“You’re mine,” I tell her, the words dragged from some deep place in me. The dragon in me surfaces, my eyes burning hotter. “You’re mine, and I won’t lose you again.”

“Yours,” she agrees, the word a vow. “Show me.”

I lose myself then, setting a rhythm that has her crying out with each thrust. She meets me move for move, her body arching to take me deeper. We fit together perfectly, two pieces of the same whole.

The heat between us builds, impossibly hot. Her skin glows with that strange inner fire, the sheets beneath us steaming slightly. I should be concerned, but I’m too far gone. Too consumed by her.

“Dorian,” she gasps, her inner muscles clenching around me. “Something’s happening—”

I feel it too—a gathering power, an approaching storm. Heat builds between us, literal and figurative. Her skin grows hotter beneath my hands. The glow intensifies. Her hair lifts slightly as if in a breeze, though the air is still. Power crackles between us, something beyond normal passion.

Then it happens. As she comes, light explodes from her skin—brilliant, golden, filling the room with impossible radiance. I follow her over the edge, my cry mingling with hers as pleasure tears through me. And I feel myself falling, falling, falling….