Page 9 of Dragon’s Flame (Dragon Prince of the Other Worlds #8)

TARIAN

T arian drove back to the hotel, let himself and the dog in, and collapsed onto the bed—shoes and jacket still on.

What was left for him to do?

He stared up at the ceiling. Maybe instead of chasing Seris, he should plot a course away. Maybe if he pushed himself far enough—reached one of this strange world’s meridians or its magnetic poles—her hold on him would finally snap.

He would be free.

And then what?

For centuries, dreaming of her had kept him alive. Now, without her, he was untethered—adrift in a sea of nothing.

“Hey,” Rocky said, hopping up onto the bed beside him. “Hey!”

Tarian turned his head slowly, his expression grim. “What?”

“I don’t know,” the dog admitted, his head tilting. “But I bet you shouldn’t be alone.”

There were no truer words in the world. Seris was his mate—he knew it, felt it in the marrow of his bones—and yet, here he was. Without her.

“So I’m here,” Rocky said firmly. The dog settled on all fours before wriggling his way between Tarian’s arm and his side. Slowly, he rolled over, exposing his belly with a wag of his tail.

Tarian exhaled, his lips twitching faintly. “You are a poor substitute.”

“Maybe,” Rocky said, his tone unapologetic. “But I’m what you’ve got.”

Tarian’s hand moved to the dog’s stomach, his fingers running through Rocky’s fur as the dog’s tail thumped against the bed.