Page 56 of Veiled Flames (Destiny of Dragons #1)

“The veil?” I shake my head, doubting his words. He’s only trying to distract me from his intrusion. “How did you get past the guards at my door?”

He chuckles. “Those guards, my dear Rosomon, are positioned to prevent your exit, not my entrance .” Staring into my eyes, he emphasizes the last word, and it fuels my desire. But then reignites my temporarily tamed anger.

“You betrayed me.” I glare at him. “You revealed my secret, after giving me your word that you wouldn’t.”

He takes a tentative step forward. “If you recall, I didn’t actually tell anyone.”

My fury expands. “You kissed me! You lifted me right off the ground and kissed me. Passionately. In front of everyone .”

“Tell me you didn’t enjoy it.” A hopeful smile teases his lips.

“That’s not the point!”

“Then, what is the point?” He takes another small step toward me. “Is it not possible I might have kissed a boy so? It was Egon who blurted the truth. And Saxon who revealed your true name.”

I step back, and my legs hit the edge of my bed. “The point is, even if you didn’t use words to reveal my secret, you revealed it with actions. You betrayed me, Tynan. And you ruined my chances of becoming a rider.”

Regret flashes in the greens of his eyes. “Forgive me.”

“Why in Othrix’s name would I ever do that?”

In two bounding strides, Tynan reaches me. But instead of grabbing my body or hair like last night, he drops to his knees at my feet with his hands clasped before him.

“Forgive me, Rosomon. Please. I’d do anything to repair the damage I’ve caused you.”

My body freezes in shock. Tynan is begging. Admitting fault. Tynan has revealed a side I most certainly did not expect.

I look into his eyes, half expecting to find them mocking me, but his regret seems sincere, as does his plea for forgiveness. He seems almost desperate.

Tynan’s feelings have changed toward me, just as mine had softened for him before he betrayed me today. I sensed it last night, and I felt it when he kissed me out on the field. And I can see it now in his eyes.

Still kneeling, he wraps his arms tightly around me and presses his head against my belly. “Please, my dearest Rose. Today has been the best day of my life, but it will turn to the worst if you won’t forgive me.”

“Since when am I, ‘Your dearest Rose?’” I mock his words with my tone.

Keeping his arms around me, Tynan leans back and looks up into my eyes. “You became my dearest Rose today.” Blinking, he shakes his head. “That’s not true. You became dear to me the day I first met you.”

My eyes narrow. I know that’s not true.

He continues to shake his head. “I can’t recall the precise moment I first felt sparks ignite between us, but today, while riding Xendus, my deepest desires became clear.”

I suck in a breath, and my chest heaves as if long deprived of air. I may have stopped breathing when Tynan landed on his knees at my feet.

“Rosomon,” he says, “I can’t fully explain all I’m feeling, or why these emotions so quickly arose. I admit I’m confused, but I’m certain of one thing. If you don’t forgive me, my heart will be ripped from my chest, and I’ll live each day forward in the depths of darkness and despair.”

His hyperbole snaps me back to reality. This man makes a sport of mocking others, and he’s well accustomed to getting whatever he wants. I might not be able to detect the mocking in his expression right now, but he’s also a consummate performer.

“I spoke to the dragon masters,” he tells me. “I don’t believe my words alone should earn your forgiveness, but I do want you to know that I made strong arguments on your behalf. The masters are at least considering letting you stay.”

An ounce of hope enters my heart—hope combined with gratitude. Tynan spoke to the masters on my behalf?

This could be another of his jests. Or a tactic to get what he wants from me. What he wants has become less clear, but as he remains on his knees in front of me, the hard evidence of at least one of his wants becomes obvious, pressing out against his flap like the center pole of a tent.

Desire throbs inside me. My fingers only heightened my arousal. Can I swallow my pride and anger and use Tynan to get what I need? Can my hatred for him fuel my desires? He did claim that hate could fuel lust.

“I concede that your betrayal may not have been fully intentional.”

His hands tighten over my bottom, kneading me like Cook making bread. The motion shifts the trainer and sends another wave of lust racing through me.

Hope rises in Tynan’s eyes. He senses my arousal and thinks that he’s won. He thinks he’s going to get what he wants. Entitled men like Tynan will never learn to accept disappointment. And that fuels my anger.

Tynan’s bragged that all wenches at camp will spread their legs for him—and that they oft times fight over his cock. I’d like to teach him a lesson. To show him he can’t always take what he wants.

But then I’d be denying myself.

The two opposing wants churn inside me.

Still on his knees, he presses his cheek against my belly as his hands softly knead my backside. It’s not only arousing, it’s tender and touching how he’s humbling himself before me like this.

Then he looks up into my eyes.

I’m quickly captured by the dancing greens in his eyes, and my pulsing intensifies. Does he know about the trainer? Is he purposefully trying to shift it to cause more stimulation?

“I understand why you don’t trust me.” His voice breaks. “And I understand if you won’t grant me entrance to your body tonight. Just tell me there is a chance. Tell me that someday you might forgive me. Please Rose, just tell me there’s a chance you won’t hate me forever.”

I take his face in my hands. “But Tynan, I do hate you. I despise you. I despise your whole family. And I despise all men who believe they can take whatever they want. Take or hurt whomever they want.”

Despair fills his eyes. “Please, Rosomon.”

Power surges inside me. “Tonight, it’s me who’ll take what I want.”

“What do you want?” he asks breathlessly. “I’ll grant you anything that’s mine to give.”

My heart is racing, beating out of my chest.

“Last night, you said that hate can fuel lust.”

He nods, and my hands drop from his head to his shoulders.

My mouth turns dry, and I lick my lips. I may have thought of a way to satisfy both my conflicting needs. “I do hate you Tynan, and it seems my hatred has generated a modicum of lust inside me.”

His expression fills with hope, but then quickly darkens with obvious need.

Leaning forward, Tynan pulls my body toward him and presses a kiss against my belly.

He kisses me so firmly it’s as if he wants to penetrate my clothing and skin with the force of his lips.

Although I’m fully clothed, his mouth transfers intense heat, and his hands are like flames licking my bottom.

The conflagration of fires join at my center and spread out to lick me everywhere.

“Do you mean—” One of his hands slips between my legs, and his fingers brush the leather covering my cleft.

My entire body convulses in a sharp wave, and I fight to regain my composure, my sense of control, my dignity and pride—and most of all my determination to have this happen on my terms, not on his. He can’t just take whatever he wants.

“Tynan.” I grab onto his indigo curls and tug back. “You claimed your cock can be punishing. If that’s true, then prove it. Use your cock to seal my hatred toward you. Make me hate you, even more than I do now.” Casteel made me hate him. I want to hate Tynan that much too.