Page 18 of Fire’s Resonance (Hearts on Fire #1)

SIX

RAAK

“Stay close.” The growl rips from my throat before I can stop it.

I position myself slightly in front of Spark as we enter the main corridor of Emberhold.

My nostrils flare, taking in the heavy scent of dragon magic saturating the ancient stones.

Beneath that, her mouthwatering cinnamon-and-molten-glass scent.

My female. Even thinking the words makes my cock throb painfully against my tactical pants.

Fuck.

The curve of her neck where it meets her shoulder, draws my eye. The spot where I’d place my claiming mark. Where I’d sink my teeth while driving deep inside her, marking her as mine forever. The image flashes hot and vivid in my mind, making my breath catch.

Focus, Silverclaw. Not yet.

Taking Spark through the sanctuary creates constant challenges.

Every male dragon’s attention snaps to her the moment she enters a room, nostrils flaring to catch her unique scent.

Unmated female. Fertile. Transforming. The combination is like blood in shark-infested waters.

Instinct makes me want to shift, to tear out the throat of any male who dares look at her too long.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

I keep my hand at the small of her back.

The contact sends jolts of heat through my palm straight to my groin.

Steam actually rises where my fingers press against her—visible evidence of our combustible connection.

A full day of torture, her scent saturating my quarters, her soft sounds in sleep making the dragon within me claw for release.

Last night I woke to her whimpering my name in her sleep, her body writhing against the sheets, the sweet scent of her arousal filling the room. It took every ounce of my control not to drive into her heat and end this torment for both of us.

The corridors of Emberhold stretch before us. Dragon-fire sconces flicker, casting shadows that accentuate the scale patterns etched into ancient volcanic rock. The lights catch in her copper hair, setting it ablaze with red-gold fire that makes my mouth go dry.

Her amber eyes dart everywhere, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. The sight sends a rush of possessive pride through my veins.

Mine.

The rough stone floor changes to polished obsidian as we reach the main thoroughfare.

The narrow passage forces Spark closer to my side, her breast brushing against my arm with each step.

The contact sends electric jolts through my system, making silver-gray scales ripple briefly beneath my skin before I force them back.

A young warrior named Krell steps directly into our path. He inhales deeply, deliberately drawing Spark’s scent into his lungs. A rumble of appreciation vibrates in his chest.

Red fills my vision.

Before I can stop myself, I slam him against the wall. The stone cracks with the impact. My hand closes around his throat, claws partially extending, pricking his skin.

“Eyes. Down.” Each word punctuated with a squeeze. Gray flames flicker around my clenched fist, scorching the wall beside his head. “She’s claimed.”

The dragon roars inside me, demanding I rip out his throat for daring to scent my female.

Kill. Protect. Mine.

My teeth sharpen in my mouth, fangs descending as I fight to maintain human form. The distinctive scent of my flames—smoke and steel with undertones of winter frost—fills the corridor.

Spark’s small hand grips my arm. “Raak.” Just my name, but the contact sends another jolt of heat straight to my cock. The sweet scent of her arousal hits my nostrils, making the dragon purr with satisfaction.

She likes our strength. Likes our dominance.

Krell’s eyes widen, then drop submissively. He bares his throat, a gesture of complete surrender. “Forgiveness, Silverclaw.” His voice comes out strangled from the pressure of my grip.

I release him, stepping back. The effort of controlling the dragon costs me. My muscles burn with the strain of it. My cock throbs painfully, pressing hard against my zipper, demanding satisfaction—demanding her.

“Was that necessary?” Spark hisses, her small hand still gripping my arm. Heat radiates from the point of contact. “You could have killed him.”

I don’t answer. Can’t answer. The dragon is too close to the surface, clawing for control. If I open my mouth now, a roar will emerge instead of words. But her hand stays on my arm, those delicate fingers curling into my bicep, steadying me. Grounding me.

Her amber eyes look up at me, pupils dilated with a mixture of fear and arousal. Her lips part slightly, pink and full and so fucking kissable. For one heartbeat, my gaze locks on that mouth, imagining how it would taste, how it would feel wrapped around my cock.

Not here. Not yet.

I guide her forward, hyperaware of every threat in our vicinity. The fine hairs on the back of my neck stand up as whispers follow us like shadows.

“Ashen One.” A female dragon spits the words like venom as we pass the healing chambers.

The clan’s hostility sinks into my skin like acid rain. Their disdain for my “defective” gray flames runs deeper than their contempt for humans. In their eyes, I’m doubly flawed—tainted by impure flame and now further contaminated by attachment to a human.

“Human corruption.” “The Ashen One’s pet.” “Flame abomination.”

My jaw clenches so hard, my teeth might crack. The muscle in my cheek twitches with the strain.

But with Spark by my side, the whispers suddenly matter less. Her presence anchors me, gives purpose to the anger that’s burned inside me since childhood. These fucking politics have dictated my status for too long.

Let them talk. Let them fear. She is ours now.

Past the library, the corridor narrows. A group of researchers emerges suddenly from a side passage, forcing us against the wall. I instinctively shield Spark with my body, pressing her between my chest and the cool stone behind her.

Her breath catches. Our bodies align perfectly, her soft curves molding against my harder planes.

Her face tilts up, those amber eyes wide, her pulse visibly racing at the base of her throat.

I want to taste that pulse, to run my tongue over the delicate skin there and feel her life force beating against my lips.

The space between us crackles with electricity. Actual sparks dance where our bodies connect, tiny embers of gray-crimson flame that don’t burn either of us. Her pupils dilate farther, black nearly swallowing the amber. The sweet-spicy scent of her arousal intensifies, making my mouth water.

“Sorry,” I mutter, forcing myself to step back once the researchers pass. The loss of contact is physically painful, like ripping off a patch of scales.

Spark blinks, her cheeks flushed. “It’s... fine.”

But it’s not fine. Nothing about this slow torture is fine.

We continue down the corridor, the space between us charged with unspoken tension.

She’s perfect—strong enough to challenge a sanctuary full of creatures who could tear her apart. Smart enough to observe and learn our ways. Fierce enough to meet their contempt with her own.

Worthy mate. Strong female.

When a group of female dragons impede our path, deliberately shoving Spark as they pass, she doesn’t cower or complain. Instead, she squares her shoulders and stares them down.

“Problem?” Spark asks, voice cool despite the racing pulse I can see at her throat.

The females retreat, surprised by her directness. Fuck, my cock throbs painfully in response to her courage. The dragon inside me preens with satisfaction.

“That’s what I thought,” she mutters as they slink away.

We reach the massive stone archway that marks the entrance to the communal dining hall. I pause, hand still possessively at the small of her back. I feel the delicate curve of her spine, the slight flare of her hip. My fingers itch to explore further, to claim every inch of her body.

The scents from within hit me in a wave—food, dragon magic, territorial markers from dozens of clan members. Too many dragons. Too many potential threats. But Spark needs to eat, and I need to establish our place in the hierarchy. Hiding in our quarters only invites more challenges.

“Ready?” I ask, my voice rough with the effort of controlling my instincts.

She lifts her chin, eyes meeting mine directly. The amber depths hold no fear, only determination. “Let’s get this over with.”

My hand slides slightly lower on her back, a subtle claiming gesture that any dragon would recognize. She shivers in response, her body unconsciously leaning into my touch. The bond between us hums with shared awareness.

The communal dining hall falls silent as we enter. Hundreds of eyes turn to track our movement. My muscles coil, ready to spring at the first sign of threat. I scan the room, identifying potential dangers, mapping escape routes.

The large cavern stretches before us, tables carved from volcanic stone arranged in hierarchical patterns.

Crystal formations in the ceiling capture and amplify light from the massive fire pit at the center, casting everything in a warm, flickering glow that does nothing to ease the chill of hostility in the air.

Three warriors block our path to the food tables—Orrath and his security detail, deliberately positioning themselves to intimidate. My hackles rise at the blatant challenge.

Orrath’s ice-blue eyes assess Spark with open contempt, then shift to me with something closer to hatred. His nostrils flare, taking in our mingled scents. His lip curls in disgust.

“Bringing your pet to eat with real dragons, Silverclaw?” Orrath sneers, voice carrying to ensure maximum public humiliation. “Or is she the meal?”

My vision edges with crimson. The beast inside me claws for control, demanding I rip out Orrath’s throat for daring to insult what’s mine.

Kill. Challenge. Tear.

The only thing stopping me from shifting fully and challenging Orrath to blood combat is Spark’s presence. That, and the knowledge that as clan security chief, Orrath outranks me in the hierarchy.

Fucking politics.