Page 3 of Fire’s Resonance (Hearts on Fire #1)

What the hell is happening to me? My body’s not my own anymore. Responding to a stranger like he owns me. Like we’re... connected somehow. The logical part of my brain screams danger, but something deeper, something primal, recognizes him. Wants him. Needs him.

“Running won’t help.” Raak’s deep voice comes from behind me. I hadn’t heard him follow, yet somehow expected him to. “The bond has started.”

“There is no bond.” I spin to face him, immediately regretting the action as his scent hits me again. Metallic. Smoky. Male. My body sways toward him involuntarily. “This is just... attraction. Intense, weird attraction.”

He steps closer, heat radiating from his body. His normal temperature must run even hotter than mine—like touching a furnace. Being near him feels like standing next to an open flame. Comforting. Right.

He leans forward, inhaling deeply along the column of my throat. The gesture should feel invasive. Instead, my head tilts back instinctively, offering more access. My mind screams at the submissive gesture while my body rejoices in it.

“You dream of fire.” It’s not a question. “Of flying through flames unburned. Of scales growing along your spine.” His hand hovers near my face, not quite touching. “Of me, though you didn’t know my face until tonight.”

My silence confirms his words. How can he know about my dreams?

“How...” I finally whisper.

“Because I dream of you. A copper-haired female with fire in her veins.” His eyes soften briefly before hardening with determination. “I’ve searched for you for years. Following your scent through your art. The fire patterns you create—they’re not random. They’re calling to me. To my flame.”

“Your flame?” I repeat, voice barely audible. “What are you?”

His smile is predatory, revealing teeth slightly too sharp for a human mouth. “You know, Spark. Same as you, beneath the human exterior.”

Dragon, my mind supplies before he says it.

Impossible words. Impossible knowledge. Yet my body responds with recognition rather than disbelief.

The transaction complete—all my displayed pieces sold in one impossible purchase—Raak leans in close enough for his hot breath to caress my neck.

“Three days,” he rumbles, the heat from his body making me dizzy with want.

“The first transformation with the full moon.” His teeth—sharper than they should be—graze my earlobe, sending a jolt of electricity straight to my clit.

“What transformation?” I ask, my voice embarrassingly breathy. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

He chuckles, the sound dark and promising. “You’ll burn for me, little flame. I come when you call.” His tongue flicks out, tasting the pulse point on my neck. The wet heat of it brands me, marks me. “And you will. Your body won’t give you a choice.”

Marking. Claiming. Preparing.

He releases me and walks away, leaving me trembling with unfulfilled need. My hand rises to the spot his tongue touched, feeling the skin tingle with lingering heat.

Ivy appears at my side, face drawn with worry. “What the hell was that? Every light in the place flickered when he touched you. The temperature in the whole gallery rose ten degrees.”

“He bought everything,” I say numbly. “Every single piece.”

“I know. The gallery owner’s having an orgasm over the commission.” Ivy grabs my shoulders, forcing me to look at her. “But that’s not important. What did he say to you?”

I touch my neck where his teeth had grazed my skin, still feeling the phantom pressure. “Something about a transformation. About the full moon.”

“Shit.” Ivy’s face pales, confirming my suspicion that she knows more than she’s telling me. “Three nights from now.”

“How did you know that?”

“Lucky guess.” Ivy’s hand moves to her protective amulet again, fingers tracing its surface with practiced movements. “You need to stay home that night. Lock every door and window. Don’t let anyone in.”

“Including my mysterious buyer?”

“Especially him.” Ivy’s grip tightens painfully on my shoulders. Her eyes hold knowledge and fear in equal measure. “Promise me, Spark.”

“Fine, I promise.” The lie comes easily. Nothing could keep me from seeing Raak again. The pull is too strong, too primal. My body has made its choice, regardless of what my mind thinks. “Can we go home now? I’m suddenly exhausted.”

But I’m not tired. I’m hyper-aware. Every nerve ending in my body sings with energy. With anticipation. With need.

Soon, that voice whispers in my head. Soon we’ll be whole.

In the dream, I am naked, surrounded by protective fire. The flames don’t burn—they caress, soothe, welcome. Like coming home after a lifetime of exile.

My skin itches, then burns as copper-red scales begin to emerge along my spine, matching my hair. The sensation should be painful. It’s not. It’s release. Freedom. My true self breaking through the human disguise.

I gasp as my birthmark spreads up my arm like living fire, the pattern extending across my chest, curving under my breast. Between my thighs, wetness gathers, dripping onto the stone beneath me.

From the darkness, he emerges, his massive body half-transformed—human from the waist up, though covered in silver-gray scales, reptilian from the waist down. His cock stands fully erect, far larger than any human male’s could be. Ridged. Textured. Made to pleasure and claim.

“Mine,” he growls, the sound vibrating through my bones. Instead of fear, I feel only molten desire. I spread my legs in blatant invitation, displaying my wetness, my readiness.

“What am I?” I ask as he stalks closer, muscles rippling beneath scaled skin.

“Dragon,” he answers, pushing me down onto a bed of flames. “My fated mate.” His clawed hand slides between my thighs, finding me embarrassingly ready. He growls in approval, the sound triggering another flood of wetness. “Mine to claim. Mine to breed. Mine to mark.”

The words should terrify me. Instead, I moan, “Yes.”

Submit. Accept. Embrace.

His claws trace patterns across my skin, leaving trails of fire that transform into scales. When he enters me, I’m stretched impossibly full, pain and pleasure inseparable. His hips slam against mine as massive wings unfurl from his back, engulfing us both in a cocoon of silver-gray scales.

“Burn for me,” he commands, thrusting harder. “Mine,” Raak roars as we reach climax together, our flames merging into a blinding light.

I jolt awake at 3:33 AM, my body on fire with unfulfilled need. “Holy shit,” I gasp, finding my fingers already between my legs, my panties soaked through. My hips buck involuntarily, seeking release that hovers just out of reach.

The birthmark on my wrist is glowing spark-red in the darkness. Every candle in the room is lit, though I don’t own matches. The sheets beneath me are singed where my hands have clutched them, blackened handprints marking the cotton.

My skin feels too tight, like something inside needs to break free. My back aches between my shoulder blades. The dream felt more real than reality—my body still pulses with phantom pleasure. Shouldn’t exist.

My teeth ache again, canines throbbing. I run my tongue over them, finding them definitely sharper than they were yesterday. What the actual hell?

Changing. Becoming. Emerging.

A large shadow crosses my window—too big to be a bird, too graceful to be a drone. Something inside me responds, a hunger so primal it can’t be human. My back arches as my spine suddenly burns with a pain so exquisite, it borders on pleasure.

“Raak,” I whisper, though I don’t consciously mean to call him. The name falls from my lips like a prayer. Like a summoning.

Mate. Need. Call.

Outside, something roars in answer. The sound shakes my windows, vibrates through my chest. Recognition floods me. Familiarity. Rightness.

I stumble to the window, drawn by an instinct I don’t understand. In the darkness, silver eyes gleam from the rooftop across the street. Watching. Waiting. Protecting.

“Three days,” I whisper, pressing my hand against the glass. The birthmark pulses in response, glowing brighter. “What happens in three days?”

As if in answer, clouds part to reveal the waxing moon, nearly full. Heat surges through my body, centering between my thighs. My reflection in the window shows my eyes glowing amber in the darkness, pupils narrowed to vertical slits.

Not human.

The thought should terrify me. Instead, it feels like recognition. Like truth. Like I’ve finally found the answer to a question I’ve been asking my entire life.

Dragon. Always dragon. Hidden dragon.

I crawl back into bed, but sleep doesn’t come. My body burns with need, with hunger for something—someone—I barely know yet recognize bone-deep. My fingers seek relief repeatedly, bringing me to the edge but never over. Only one touch will satisfy this hunger. Only one male.

But a part of me has always been burning. The part that creates impossible flame patterns in glass. The part that withstands temperatures that should kill me. The part that recognized Raak on sight, that knew his name without being told.

Dragon.

The word echoes in my mind as I watch the night sky through my window. Impossible. Insane. Yet it settles into place like the final piece of a puzzle I’ve been trying to solve my entire life.

The remaining hours until dawn pass in torturous awareness.

My fingers trace the extending pattern of my birthmark, watching as it briefly flashes with scales before fading back to skin.

Transformation. That’s what he meant. My body is changing, becoming something else.

Something I’ve always been beneath the human disguise.

We emerge. We claim. We burn.

My mind says this is madness. My body says it’s salvation.

As the first rays of sunlight filter through my window, I make a decision. I won’t run from this. Whatever’s happening to me, whatever I’m becoming, I’ll face it head-on. The way I’ve faced everything else in my life.

Three days. Just three days until I know the truth.

Three days until I burn.