Page 10 of Curvy Girl and the Single Dad Dragon (Cedar Falls: Fated Mates #2)
The soft wonder in Luna's eyes as she watches the last embers fade strikes something deep within me. Something I haven't felt in decades, perhaps centuries. A recognition. A resonance.
Dragon lore speaks of fated mates. Souls that recognize each other across species, across time.
I've always dismissed such notions as romantic folklore, the kind of stories young dragons tell each other during long winter nights.
Yet looking at Luna now, her face illuminated by the dying glow of my fire, I feel a pull that defies rational explanation.
Which is utterly, monumentally stupid.
And yet.
If six centuries have taught me anything, it's that time is precious regardless of how much you have.
I've watched countless humans live their brief, brilliant lives—creating art, building families, changing their world in ways great and small.
Their mortality doesn't diminish their significance; it enhances it.
Every moment matters precisely because there are so few of them.
Luna's presence in my life, in Ember's life, will be temporary by dragon standards. A heartbeat. A blink. Even if she stays for years, eventually she'll age while I remain unchanged. Eventually, like all humans, she'll be gone. I hate having that thought.
"What are you thinking?" she asks softly, breaking the silence that has fallen between us. "You look... troubled."
I consider deflecting, giving some partial truth about dragon fire or magic. But something about the openness in her expression compels honesty.
"I'm thinking about time," I admit. "About how differently it flows for dragons and humans."
She tilts her head slightly, considering. "Because you live so much longer?"
"Yes. Relationships between our kinds are... complicated by that reality."
"Relationships," she repeats, and I catch the slight uptick in her heartbeat. "You mean like you and your ex-wife?"
"Like any connection between dragons and humans," I clarify, though we both know there's more beneath the surface of this conversation. "Friendships, partnerships... whatever form they take."
She nods. "I can see how that would be difficult. Knowing that you'll outlive someone by centuries. That they're just a brief chapter in your story."
"That's one way to look at it," I acknowledge. "But I've come to see it differently over the years."
"How so?"
I search for the right words to explain a perspective shaped by centuries of observation. "Human lives may be brief by our standards, but they're no less meaningful for their brevity. If anything, the limited time makes each connection more precious, more intense."
Her eyes never leave mine, and I see understanding dawning in them. "Like a comet versus a star. The comet burns brighter precisely because its passage is fleeting."
"Exactly," I say, impressed by her insight. "Many dragons isolate themselves from humans to avoid the pain of loss. They view attachments to shorter-lived beings as inevitably tragic."
"And you?" she asks quietly. "Do you share that view?"
I think about Jenny, about the joy and pain our years together brought. About other humans I've known and lost throughout my long life.
"No," I say finally. "I've found that the connections are worth the eventual grief. To close oneself off from experience out of fear of future pain is to miss the purpose of living altogether."
"That's a remarkably hopeful perspective for someone who's lived through so much loss."
"Hope is essential for a long life," I tell her. "Without it, immortality would be a curse rather than a gift."
She smiles, and the simple beauty of it catches me off-guard. "I'm glad you haven't lost that, despite everything."
"So am I." I pause, then add, "I'm glad you came here, Luna. That we met."
"Even though I discovered your secret on day one?" she teases lightly.
"Even though," I confirm. "You were never supposed to know about dragons, you know. I never intended to place that burden on you."
"It's hardly a burden," she counters. "More like... a gift. A glimpse into a world most people never get to see."
"A dangerous gift," I remind her. "Knowing about us puts you at risk."
"Some things are worth the risk," she says simply, and the quiet conviction in her voice undoes me.
I can’t help but notice the warm hazel of her eyes, the gentle curve of her lips, the sprinkling of freckles across her nose so faint they're barely visible to human eyes.
In my long life, I've learned to recognize moments that stand on the precipice of change, instants where a single action can alter the course of years to come.
This is one such moment.
"I hope I don't taste bad," I say suddenly, the words escaping before I can reconsider.
Her eyes widen in confusion. "What do you—"
I close the distance between us, one hand coming up to gently cup her cheek as I press my lips to hers. For a heartbeat, she's still with surprise. Then she melts against me, her lips soft and yielding beneath mine.
The kiss is gentle, a question more than a demand. I'm aware of my strength, of how easily I could overwhelm her without intending to. But Luna isn't fragile. She leans into the kiss, one hand coming up to rest against my chest, directly over my heart.
Heat builds within me, not just the natural warmth of desire but the more dangerous fire of my dragon nature responding to intense emotion. I feel it rising from my core, threatening to escape as smoke from my nostrils. With centuries of practice, I control it, channeling the energy back inward.
When we finally part, her cheeks are flushed, her pupils dilated. I can hear the rapid beating of her heart, smell the subtle changes in her scent that indicate attraction, desire.
"You don't taste bad at all," she whispers, a smile playing at her lips. "Quite the opposite."
"Good to know," I murmur, still close enough to feel her breath against my skin.
"Do dragons always worry about how they taste?" she asks, a hint of mischief in her eyes.
"Only the ones who kiss humans," I reply, matching her playful tone. "It's not a common occurrence."
"Funny.”
Her smile widens, transforming her entire face. It's contagious, that smile, drawing an answering one from me before I can think better of it.
"But I should probably get back to the guest house," she says after a moment, though she makes no move to leave. "It's late, and tomorrow is another day of dragon-sitting."
"Probably wise," I agree, equally reluctant to end this moment.
"Damon," she starts, voice trembling. "What does this mean? For us, for my position here?"
Leave it to Luna to address the practical concerns head-on. It's one of the qualities I find most compelling about her: how rational she is, her directness, her clarity of thought.
"It means whatever we want it to mean," I tell her honestly. "Your job remains secure regardless. Ember adores you, and you're excellent with her. That stands separate from... whatever this is between us."
"And what is this between us?" she asks, her gaze steady on mine. "Because I need to be clear. I don't do casual very well. And with Ember involved, complications could be..."
"Complicated," I finish for her. "I understand. This isn't casual for me either, Luna. I wouldn't have kissed you if it were. Dragons don't take such actions lightly, especially not with humans we've invited into our lives, our homes."
She nods, seeming satisfied with my answer. "Then we proceed slowly? See where this leads while maintaining professional boundaries when it comes to Ember?"
"Exactly." I reach out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, allowing my fingers to linger against her skin. "No pressure, no expectations. Just... exploration."
"I like the sound of that," she says, leaning slightly into my touch. "Exploration."
I should let her go now, walk her back to the guest house like a gentleman. But having tasted her once, I find myself craving one more kiss. Just one more.
As if reading my thoughts, Luna leans forward, pressing her lips to mine once more.
Her hand slides up to my shoulder, then to the nape of my neck, fingers threading through my hair.
This time, I can't entirely prevent a wisp of smoke from escaping my nostrils when we part.
Luna notices, her eyes widening slightly before a delighted smile curves her lips.
"Was that because of me?" she asks, sounding more pleased than alarmed.
"Dragon physiology," I explain, slightly embarrassed. "You know strong emotions can trigger our fire. Usually, I have better control."
Her smile turns decidedly mischievous. "So, I affect your control? Good to know."
"You have no idea," I murmur, resisting the urge to pull her closer. If I don't end this now, I might not be able to stop at just kissing, and we both need time to consider what we're beginning here.
With reluctance, I stand, offering her my hand. "I'll walk you to the guest house."
She takes my hand, allowing me to help her up. "Such a gentleman. Is that a dragon trait or just you?"
"Just me," I reply with a small smile. "Though dragons do tend toward old-fashioned courtesy. Comes with the age, I suppose."
The night air is cool and fresh, the stars bright overhead in the clear sky. Luna's hand remains in mine, her fingers intertwined with my larger ones as if they belong there.