Page 7 of Dragon Enchanted (Secret Kingdoms: The Draquonir #1)

CHAPTER 6

T he Dungeon

The chains cut into his wrists, biting deep, but Vector barely felt them. The pain was nothing. Nothing compared to the fire raging inside him.

His dragon was coming undone.

The beast slammed against the walls of his mind, furious, desperate, clawing to break free. His entire body trembled with the force of it, every muscle locked in an unrelenting vise as his dragon battled the magic of his prison, the multitude of elven chains holding him captive, locking his dragon—and his magic—inside him. The magic burned like acid around his neck, his wrists, in his blood—and nothing burned a dragon.

Then she walked in.

Raven.

The scent of her hit him like a drug—warm honey and wild roses, the softest hint of rain and…others. Their male scents lingered on her clothing. Erik. Talon. Lorien. The fucking vampire.

His dragon exploded, a violent snarl ripping from his throat as the beast lunged for her, trying to tear through the fragile grip of Vector’s control.

Mine.

The word burned through him like bolt of lightning, instant, raw and absolute.

The chains groaned as he yanked against them, his body straining forward, but Alrik’s dark elven magic held firm. Vector barely registered King Erik’s presence, barely noticed anything but her . She had no idea what she’d just walked into. No idea that the moment she stepped into his cage, she was putting herself at the mercy of a monster.

His mate. How had he not sensed the truth that night? Had he been that weak?

So close to death that he failed to recognize her?

She stumbled back. Erik’s hands caught her. Held.

“Don’t touch her!”

Mine!

His voice and Dragon’s bellowed at the male who dared touch his mate.

Erik stepped back. Thank fuck, because Vector was about to lose the battle for control.

Dragon fought and raged, cut through his heart and soul in desperation to reach her. Vector tasted the salt and metal of his own blood sliding down the back of his throat as dragon attacked him from within.

Enough! Vector’s centuries of iron control slammed into dragon like a wall of ice.

A brutal shudder racked his frame. His dragon fought harder, blind with fury that she was so close and still out of reach. That Erik touched her. That she smelled of the others. Madness clawed at him, thick and relentless. His body vibrated with the need to take, to claim her, to sink his teeth into the soft curve of her throat and mark her, so the entire world—human and dragon alike—would know she belonged to him .

But he couldn't.

Draquonir law was absolute. No human could know what they were.

And if she did ? If she found out what he was, what he could become, before she accepted him as her mate? Before dragonfire ran in her veins?

The punishment would be death.

Vector sucked in a harsh breath, wrestling his dragon down, forcing the beast into a corner of his mind. He needed control. Needed her . But she couldn’t see him like this—half-mad, raging, more beast than man. She would never accept a monster.

“Put her inside,” Erik ordered.

Talon stepped forward, careful not to touch her as a new, more vicious growl erupted from Vector’s chest. The cell door creaked open. His dragon lunged, nearly snapping his mind in two.

Too close. Too much.

Raven stepped in, her eyes locked on him, and Vector swore the ground beneath him shifted.

She didn’t cower.

Didn’t hesitate.

She should have run .

Instead, she moved toward him, her movements careful, deliberate. The candlelight flickered over her brown hair, painting the silk of it in deep, midnight waves. Her eyes—storm-gray and defiant—held his, unwavering, searching.

She had no idea she was walking into the jaws of a predator barely holding himself back.

She knelt by the basin of water, dipping a cloth into its cool depths. Her delicate fingers wrung it out, the motion precise, steady. Too steady.

Vector clenched his jaw. His entire body was so tight with tension he thought he might snap. Did she have no sense of self-preservation?

She rose, the damp cloth in her hand, and then—God help him—she stepped closer.

"You're a mess," she murmured.

Her voice. Soft, husky. A caress of heat across his skin.

She lifted the cloth to his chest, pressing it against the dried remnants of his past wounds. Wounds that no longer existed. Her touch was gentle, warm.

Too close.

Her honeyed scent wrapped around him, seeped into his lungs, his blood. A pulse of feral heat shot through his spine, curling low in his gut.

His dragon growled, pushing against his control.

Vector stiffened as she ran the cloth down his chest, slow and careful, her fingers brushing the ridges of his muscles. He was trembling—actually trembling—with the force of keeping himself in check.

She wasn’t just tempting him.

She was killing him.

His cock ached, hard and unrelenting, every inch of him screaming for her. His dragon’s rage was morphing, twisting, turning into something darker. Hotter. This wasn’t just possession. This was need.

Mark her. Take her. Make her ours.

Vector sucked in a sharp breath, his chains rattling as he fisted his hands, tugging against the manacles around his wrists. His skin burned. His vision blurred. His control—so fragile now—was slipping, crumbling.

Then she looked up at him.

And he was undone.

Raven’s gaze held his, a flicker of something dangerous in her stormy depths. The air between them crackled, charged with an energy that made his pulse hammer against his ribs. She didn’t stare at him with terror or even curiosity. What he saw in her eyes was a hundred times more dangerous. Desire.

"Why me?" she whispered.

The answer rumbled from deep in his chest, guttural and raw, the last piece of his control snapping like a frayed thread.

Because you are mine.

The thought exploded in every cell in his body, but he did not speak the words, certain they would frighten her. Vector sucked in a sharp breath, his chains rattling as he fought the instinct to drag Raven against him. And he could. The chains held him trapped in the dungeon, but did not restrict his movement well enough to prevent him from taking her. These dragon chains would not save her.

The fire in his blood was worse now, an unbearable, molten need that burned straight through his veins. She was too close, her feminine warmth weaving through him like a spell, her touch a torment.

And yet, he stayed still. Held himself in check. Fought his dragon.

For her .

Forcing his body to obey, he tore his gaze from her face and looked at Erik instead. His voice was a ragged snarl when he finally spoke. "Why are you doing this?"

Erik didn’t answer right away. His glacial eyes, cold and calculating, flicked between Vector and Raven as if weighing his words. Then, finally?—

“Because she remembers everything.”

Fuck. The vampire’s mind tricks didn’t work on her? That meant?—

“Prince Alrik is on his way.” Erik’s decree made Vector’s mind spin. “The safest place for her now, is with you.”

The world tilted.

A muscle jumped in Vector’s jaw as his dragon roared inside him, a burst of searing rage threatening to consume him.

Alrik.

The prince of the Dark Elves. The enforcer. The dragon executioner.

Vector’s fingers curled into fists, his nails biting into his palms. The meaning behind Erik’s words was clear.

Alrik would eliminate any threat to the Secret Kingdoms.

Which meant him —if he couldn't rein in the madness clawing through his veins.

And her .

Raven. Draquonir law, the same law that applied to all species in the Secret Kingdoms, was absolute and without mercy or exception. No free, unmonitored human was allowed to know about their existence. Not even a beautiful, innocent female who’d done nothing more than risk her life to save his.

If she couldn’t be made to forget, she would be eliminated.

His chest locked up, his pulse a brutal, punishing rhythm. If Alrik arrived and deemed Raven a liability, she would not leave this castle alive. Even if he tried to shield her, to fight for her, it wouldn’t matter. If they couldn’t erase her memories of Vector—and now of this place—she would be silenced. Permanently.

Unless—

Unless she was already claimed. Already bound to him. His mate. Under his protection. For that to happen, she would have to choose him. Consent to his claim. Choose him—and his dragon—in return.

The thought sent a fresh wave of heat crashing through him, dark and possessive. His dragon sank its claws into him, a deep, guttural growl curling in Vector’s throat.

Mate. Mine. Mark her.

The only way to ensure her safety was to take what already belonged to him. Claim her body and soul. Pour his dragonfire into her and hope she accepted him, hope she was strong enough, brave enough, to survive. To choose him. To love his dragon. To save him in truth.

His entire being focused on the lightness in her touch, the way she was still caring for him, how the damp cloth glided over his shoulders and back, erasing the remnants of blood and dirt. Her fingers brushed the ridges of his ribs, lingering just a second too long. A shiver racked his body.

His voice came out hoarse. “You shouldn’t be this close to me.”

She glanced up, her storm-gray eyes filled with something wary. Something…curious. “You keep saying that,” she murmured. “And yet you haven’t hurt me.”

Vector clenched his jaw. No. And I won’t.

Even now, when every fiber of his being burned to claim her, to taste her, to drag her beneath him and show her exactly what she did to him, he held back.

For her. He was a wretch. Out of control. The powerful elven chains around his neck and his wrists the only things keeping his dragon from attacking everyone in Erik’s home. Killing them all.

Not hurt her. Mine. Dragon’s snarl of rage had dragonfire gathering in his chest, burning his lungs. The pain did nothing to curtail his dragon’s wrath at being contained. Imprisoned. Unable to take what was his, claim his mate. Or protect her from the others. So many males here. Unmated Draquonir.

Kill them all. Dragon was fucking adamant. Vector found it more and more difficult to disagree with the sentiment. Except, Raven was here, with him. Close. Her scent filled his lungs like a cool breeze. He clenched his hands into fists, desperate to touch. Test the softness of her skin, the silkiness of her hair, taste the wet heat between her legs. Make her beg. Whimper. Give herself to him. Surrender.

He looked up to find Erik and Talon gone. He was alone with her.

He should kill Erik for putting her life at risk, for believing that Vector had control of his dragon. Yet, he could not bring himself to protest the king’s choice.

Raven was his, even if she didn’t know what that meant. Erik was giving him a chance to save his mate’s life.

Fuck. If he’d died that night, her fate would have been sealed as well.

Raven’s gaze flicked down to his bare chest, her brows pulling together in confusion. “How did you heal so fast? I don’t even see any scars.”

His throat worked, muscles tightening. He shoved dragon down and fought for control. Told her the truth even though he knew she would not believe him. “Magic.”

She scoffed as she dared speak to him in a teasing tone. “Seriously? That’s what you’re going with?” The cool cloth rubbed the remnants of dried blood from his collarbone as she stood on her tippy toes to reach him.

Her disbelief was expected, but he had no choice. If she was going to survive this, she had to start believing. He couldn’t lie to her. Not about what he was.

He exhaled slowly. “Yes. I have no other explanation.”

Her fingers tightened on the cloth. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“As am I,” he murmured, shocked to realize he spoke the truth. Hours ago, he’d been prepared to end the torment of his existence, the relentless agony of dragonfire building in his veins, the centuries of loneliness with no reprieve. No relief. No hope.

Now he had her.

She didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

The air between them thickened, charged with something unseen. His dragon magic surged through his skin, rippling just beneath the surface, desperate to touch her. Claim her.

Vector couldn’t stop the heat of his dragonfire from floating through the air, seeking her, finding her, soaking into her body. Making her burn for him.

Didn’t want to stop it.

His power swelled. The ancient magic reached for her, seeping into her skin. A soft, reddish glow sparked between them, so faint it could have been a trick of the light. But it wasn’t .

Raven gasped.

Her breath hitched as the energy curled around her, sinking into her flesh, her bones, deeper. It recognized her . Claimed her.

Her pupils dilated, her lips parting on a soft exhale. Her pulse fluttered at the base of her throat, wild and erratic. The scent of her arousal filled the air, made his aching cock strain to be inside her.

Vector felt the moment the magic took hold of her.

The way her fingers trembled against his skin.

The way her breath quickened, her body swaying just slightly toward his.

The way her heart recognized his, raced to match his pounding pulse.

A dark satisfaction coiled deep inside him.

She wanted him. She wanted to touch him.

He saw it in the way her hands faltered but didn’t pull away. In the way her lips parted, her gaze flickering down to his mouth before she snapped it away, heat rising in her cheeks.

She was fighting the call of his dragon, the magic of bonded mates, of dragonfire.

But there was no fighting this. Not when his magic had already invaded her body, roused her passions, made her want .

He shifted, just slightly, so his face was closer to hers. Close enough that he could feel her breath, could watch the way her throat worked as she swallowed hard. Her breast brushed against his shoulder, and she gasped. Her voice was barely a whisper. “What are you doing to me?”

Vector didn’t answer. He lifted his bound hands as much as he could, the chains clinking softly, and dragged his knuckles over the silky skin of her cheek. Her neck.

A small sound escaped her lips, something between a breath and a sigh. She leaned into his touch.

His dragon growled in triumph.

His voice was a low rasp when he finally spoke.

“You already know.”

She was trembling.

She should have run. Should have resisted. Should have saved herself.

But she didn’t.

The magic between them shimmered, pulsing like a heartbeat, dark red tendrils weaving through the space separating them, sinking into her flesh, her soul.

She was his.

And she had no idea.

A slow, dangerous satisfaction curled through him. The beast inside him—raging, desperate— recognized her. Had chosen her. And there was no turning back.

Not for him.

Not for her .

Vector moved—just a fraction, just enough that his body loomed over hers, enough that he could feel her warmth, the hesitant brush of her breath against his chest.

He lifted his chained hands again, fighting the pull of elven magic and grazed his knuckles from her wrists moving up the delicate line of her arm.

She shivered.

Her pupils dilated, her lips parting. Her body swayed again, a breath, a whisper, an unconscious betrayal of the desire she was trying so hard to ignore.

“Vector…” His name was barely a sound, a hushed, broken thing.

Gods, he was unraveling.

He couldn’t—wouldn’t—let her fight this.

Because her life depended on it. He couldn’t protect her if she wasn’t his.

If she didn’t accept him, if she didn’t let this bond take hold, he would shatter. The dragon’s choice was final. No other female would ever soothe the madness inside him. No other touch would keep him grounded.

Without her, he would burn alive from the inside out.

He leaned in, just enough to skim the sharp edge of his jaw against her cheek, inhaling the scent of her—soft and wild, a storm rolling over warm earth.

She shivered.

His lips brushed her ear, the barest ghost of a touch, but her body reacted.

A small gasp. A quiver. A pulse of heat that rushed between them, sparking through his magic, feeding the fire inside him.

“You feel it,” he murmured, his voice rough, ragged. “Don’t you?”

She didn’t answer. But she didn’t move away.

A slow, dark smile curved his lips.

“Tell me you feel it,” he rasped, trailing his mouth lower, barely grazing the sensitive line of her throat. He felt the wild flutter of her pulse, the way her body betrayed her even as her mind fought to understand.

Her hands fisted at her sides, shaking. “What…what are you doing to me?”

Vector let his chained fingers slide around her waist to pull her close, let the heat of his magic sink deeper into her skin.

“Nothing,” he murmured, his voice a rough caress. “Everything.”

The magic between them flared, shimmering in the dim light, thickening the air with something undeniable. She sucked in a sharp breath as her own body responded, as her muscles weakened, her will faltered.

Vector seized the moment.

With slow, deliberate intent, he tilted his head, brushed his lips against the curve of her jaw—just a whisper of contact, but enough to make her moan.

Enough to send a shudder through her body so strong she had to grip his arm to stay upright.

Mine.

The word burned in his blood, raw and primal. Dragon agreed. Insisted.

Her fingers tightened around his shoulders, her nails digging in. She should have pushed him away. She should have fought harder.

But she didn’t. She moved closer . Her body molded against his, heat sinking into every inch of him, making the chains feel insignificant, making the entire world shrink down to her.

Vector turned his head, his lips so close to hers that the next breath she took would be his. He wanted her to feel trapped. Wanted her to know there was no escaping him.

Because there wasn’t.

Not now. Not ever.

“You are mine, Raven.” The words were a promise, a vow. His voice was thick with possession, dark with the weight of something unchangeable.

She sucked in a ragged breath, her pulse slamming against her throat. “You don’t own me.”

Vector’s mouth curved in a slow, wicked smile. “Do you want me to stop?”

Time ceased to exist as he waited for her answer, her choice, life or death for both of them.

“No.” Before she could change her mind, he closed the last inch between them and kissed her.

Heat exploded.

The moment their lips met, his dragon surged forward, sending a powerful wave of magic crashing between them. Raven made a choked sound, her fingers digging into his flesh as red fire raced over her skin, lighting her up from the inside out.

Her eyes were closed, but she felt it.

The magic. The bond. Him. Inside her. Part of her. Where she would never escape, never get him out. Heat moved through her like a pulse in her blood, sank into her cells, marked her, staked his claim. Found the core of her and fanned the flames. Lust. Need. Possession.

A soft, helpless moan escaped her throat, and then—she kissed him back.

Vector groaned, deep and primal, yanking at his chains as his entire body demanded more. He was starving, ravenous, burning alive with a need so consuming he thought it might kill him.

His tongue traced the seam of her lips, and she opened for him.

The taste of her—sweet, intoxicating—sent him reeling, his mind fracturing under the sheer force of possession.

Her body pressed against his, soft and warm and willing . Her nails raked up his arms, dragging over his shoulders as if she couldn’t stop herself from touching him. As if she needed to feel him as much as he needed to feel her.

A low, possessive growl rumbled in his chest. His dragon rejoiced.

Ours.

Raven gasped into his mouth, her entire body trembling, but she didn’t pull away.

She couldn’t.

Vector’s magic was inside her now, sinking deep, binding her to him with every ragged breath, every desperate touch. She was caught in his web, ensnared in something far greater than either of them.

This wasn’t lust.

It was fate.

And there was no escape.

Not for either of them.

Raven was lost.

Drowning in the heat of him, in the wild, untamed power that wrapped around her, through her, inside her.

His kiss was devastating—ruthless, consuming, a claim as much as it was a seduction. His mouth moved against hers like he was starving, and she was the only thing that could save him.

She wanted to save him. Wanted to be what he craved. What he needed.

The chains rattled as he fought against them, his muscles flexing, his body straining toward her. He was pure strength, pure dominance, a beast barely contained—and she should have been afraid.

She wasn’t.

She wanted him, wanted him more than her next breath.

Vector wrenched his mouth from hers, his breathing ragged, his green eyes dark with unholy fire. His gaze dropped to her lips, now swollen, kiss-bruised. A slow, feral smile curved his mouth.

"You're mine now," he murmured, his voice thick, possessive. "You feel the truth, don’t you?"

She should have argued. Should have denied it. But the truth was already sinking into her bones, deeper than thought, deeper than reason. She was his.

And the worst part?

She wanted to be.

His bound hands lifted, and she felt his fingers, rough and strong, tracing up her arms, dragging the delicate blouse she wore up over her head. The calloused tips of his fingers sent fire licking across her skin.

She couldn’t breathe. She was drowning in him. In heat.

The chains gave just enough slack for him to reach her, just enough for him to slide his fingers beneath the thin straps of her bra and drag them down.

She gasped, heat flashing through her as the fabric slipped lower, as the cool air kissed newly exposed skin.

"Vector—"

Her words broke into a breathless moan as his lips found her throat, his tongue tracing the fragile pulse there, his teeth scraping lightly, a teasing promise of what he could do.

Her fingers clutched his arms, but she didn’t stop him.

She couldn’t.

Need pulsed between them. The air shimmered with heat, and she felt like she was on fire. His lips made her ache, burn, for something she couldn’t name. This wasn’t normal. Couldn’t be normal. But she didn’t have that much experience to compare it, too. Billy never made her feel like?—

No. She wasn’t going to ruin this by focusing on the past. This was Vector.

His mouth was everywhere—her collarbone, her shoulder, the sensitive curve where her neck met her shoulder. He dragged his lips lower, lower, tasting her, claiming her nipple, sucking until her knees collapsed. Inch by inch he tasted her, as if he had all the time in the world.

Vector fought to go slowly, to savor every delicate part of her. His dragon magic curled around her, whispering through her veins, teasing over her skin, a sensual heat that made her tremble in his arms. She arched into him, helpless against the demands of her own body.

"You're shaking," he murmured, his voice a low, wicked growl of male satisfaction.

"You're too much," she breathed, her fingers tangling in his hair.

His green eyes flashed, his grin slow and wicked. "You haven't seen too much yet, little mate."

Mate? Who used that word?

Her breath caught as he leaned in again, as his hands—strong despite the restraints—pulled her to him, guiding her, urging her closer. He stripped her of the rest of her clothing, used his magic to remove his own clothing, to cleanse his skin and remove every bit of blood and debris, every hint that he’d nearly lost her, left her behind to survive in this realm alone.

He nudged her thighs apart with one hand and fell to his knees before her. The truth was undeniable now.

He needed her. Her wet heat on his tongue. Her body coming apart in his arms.

And she—God help her—needed him back.

When his mouth crashed against her swollen heat, when his tongue plunged deep into her wet core, she stopped thinking altogether.

Raven was gone .

Lost in the heat, the fire, the unstoppable force that was Vector.

He lifted her before gently placing her on soft blankets he conjured using dragonfire. Dark red so he could see her soft curves against his colors.

He settled her on her back. She reached for him.

He was everywhere—his hands, his mouth, the weight of his body pressing her down, making her his in a way that went beyond touch. Beyond reason.

She had no defenses. No will to fight his possession, his claim. He worked her with tongue, lips and teeth until she shattered, her body struck by a lightning bolt of bliss. Fire. Surrender.

When nothing remained between them but heat and skin and raw, unrelenting need, she didn’t hesitate. Didn’t second-guess. Because this felt so right.

She reached for his hard length and guided him to her wet core before the spasms stopped. Tilted her hips to take him deep. Wrapped her arms around him and begged him to hurry. To fuck her harder. Faster. To make her world explode again.

Vector was gone, little more than a hungry beast remained. A monster. A creature devoted to the woman in his arms. To her skin. Her softness. Her pleasure. The taste of her. The pounding pulse at the base of her throat. The heat of her core closing around him like a fist.

His hard cock sank deep and he could no more stop his hips from thrusting frantically than he could deny her soft gasps, her whispers to hurry. To move faster.

He reached between them and found her sensitive nub, stroked a rhythm of physical pressure as he directed magic through his fingertips and into her body.

She was everything. Everywhere. Wrapped around his cock like a vice. Her taste on his lips. On his tongue. Her soft body cushioning his. Her gasps and moans in his ears. Her scent in his lungs. Branding him. Marking him. Claiming him.

Her fingers dug into his hair. He couldn’t resist, had nothing left as an explosion of magic and hunger and soul-deep completion soothed his beast as she surrendered, shattered in his arms, crying out as waves of pleasure and power crashed over her.

She felt him everywhere.

Inside her.

Around her.

Part of her.

His dragon magic surged between them, molten tendrils of power twisting through their bodies, binding them together. His control broke, his movements desperate, hungry, as he buried himself in her over and over, chasing something primal, something that only she could give him.

And when the final moment came—when he groaned her name in a rough, broken growl and let go—his magic exploded, sinking deep into her skin, branding her with his power, his essence, his claim. His dragon’s claim.

She gasped, her entire body arching, her vision blurring as pleasure and magic twisted through her like a wildfire.

And then—silence.

Heavy, intoxicating, final.

The air was thick, crackling with the aftershocks of magic, of something so much bigger than either of them.

Vector’s chest rose and fell in ragged breaths, his muscles trembling as he forced himself to loosen his grip on her. He’d held her so tight, so close, as if letting go would tear him apart.

His arms ached. His chains hung limp on the floor, useless, forgotten. They were irrelevant now. Unnecessary.

Because the only thing that mattered was her.

Raven’s body was utterly spent, soft and pliant in his arms. Her breathing was shallow, her pulse unsteady, her fragile human body nearly overwhelmed by the intensity of his magic, his power.

“Wow.” She sighed and melted against him.

Something primal and fierce snapped inside him. Protective. Devoted. Obsessed.

She was his .

His to protect. His to care for. His to worship.

Had he been too rough? Had he nearly broken her.

Dragon snarled at him, annoyed that he dared suggest such a thing.

A low, rough curse left his lips as he shifted, pulling her closer , tucking her into his body so he could give her his warmth, his strength. He pressed a kiss to her temple, his lips lingering there, his own breath still uneven.

"Easy, little one," he murmured, brushing his fingers down her spine, sending soothing waves of healing magic through her skin. "I’ve got you."

Raven shuddered, a soft, sleepy sound escaping her lips as his power curled around her, inside her, healing the exhaustion in her limbs, sinking into her blood like a lullaby.

Her lashes fluttered, her breath slowing.

"Vector…" Her voice was barely a whisper. “What’s happening to me?”

"I’m here. I’ve got you," he promised, his tone raw, unguarded. "Sleep now."

She did. Right there, tangled in his arms, pressed to his chest, completely his .

He held her tighter, staring down at her with something dangerous, something unchangeable settling in his gut.

He had been reckless. Desperate. He’d taken her body.

But if he wanted to keep her—if he wanted her to stay by choice—he would have to earn her. Not just with heat and magic and primal possession, but with patience. With devotion.

She was human. She did not know or understand their ways. She deserved to be courted. Deserved to be shown the world, to be worshipped in ways that had nothing to do with power or magic or fate, and everything to do with her.

She was human.

Fiercely independent.

And though her body was his, he needed more than that.

He needed her heart.

To win her heart… he had to get out of this goddamned cage.

A slow, wicked smile curved his lips as he tightened his hold on her, watching her sleep, knowing exactly what had to be done next.

She would wake up in his arms. She would wake up his. When she opened those beautiful eyes again, her world would never be the same. She had no idea the wealth, power and mastery of the Draquonir family, of his legacy.

He would use everything he had, everything he was, to make her fall in love with him.