Page 34 of Kiss of Smoke

Her lips parted, and her chest rose and fell rapidly. “What are you?” Her voice climbed. “How can you hear my thoughts? How did you change into that…thing?” A tear streaked down her cheek. “I need some answers, because I think I’m going crazy.”

A surge of protectiveness rose within me. Before, I’d wanted her body. Or at least I told myself that was all it was—a temporary itch I could scratch by taking her to bed.

Now I knew it was more than that. A lot more. Chloe Drexel wasn’t going anywhere.

And it was time to give her the answers she sought.

I went to the window, where the moon hung heavy in the sky. Closing my eyes, I cast out my senses. ALEC.

His response came at once, his mental voice strong and incredulous. Lachlan?

Aye. I’m with Chloe, and it seems I’ve gained a new ability.

Satisfaction poured through our mental connection, along with a steady whooshing sound. Told you so.

I clenched my jaw. He was going to be insufferable about this. Are you near the castle?

I can be.

Come to the tower window.

The whooshing sound intensified. Be there in a minute.

I turned, finding Chloe still crouched on the bed, her features pinched with anxiety. I gestured to the window. “Watch, lass.”

She frowned, questions practically floating around her.

“Just watch. It won’t be long.”

Her frown deepened, and her gaze darted between me and the window. Then she tensed, as if she listened for something. She leaned forward, and her eyes went wide.

A shadow fell behind me. I swiveled as Alec swooped into view.

Glorious beast. And, oh, but he put on a show. His scales rippled with moonlight, and his tail flicked sparks that split the night. His body was as green as his eyes, his wings a deep emerald veined with gold. Black horns sprouted from his head, and matching spikes decorated the long, sinuous length of his tail. The whooshing I’d heard in my head surrounded the tower, the sound like a great engine beating the air.

“Oh…my…God,” Chloe breathed next to me. “It’s—”

“A dragon,” I said, turning toward her. I swept a loose curl from her cheek and let my hand linger. “We’re dragons, lass.”

“We?” She glanced out the window. “You and Alec.”

“Aye.”

“I’m not hallucinating?”

She looked so adorably earnest, tenderness welled in my chest. “No, honey,” I said, brushing a thumb over her soft cheek, “‘tis not a dream.”

Something flickered in her eyes, and she paled. “The plane…”

I cupped her jaw, and this time I brushed my thumb over her pouty lower lip. “Not a dream, Chloe lass. That was very, very real.”

Chapter Nine

CHLOE

Verra, verra real.

Lachlan’s brogue was thicker than ever. But there was no misunderstanding his words.

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