Page 20 of To Match A Dragon's Fire

An older Bronco parked in my large circular driveway and a woman stepped outside. The driver’s side door slammed closed with gale force.

A head of natural red curls cascaded down her freckled shoulders and arms. The thin, strappy tank top and denim shorts hugged her hourglass figure in all the right ways, showing off perfectly wide hips and thick thighs that begged for claws to sink into them.

I had to physically drag my eyes up to see her face. The pert nose. Bow shaped lips. Arresting eyes that screamed murder as she marched toward my home.

Be still my heart.

“I didn’t think they made humans like that anymore.” Fredrick audibly swallowed beside me.

Mine,my dragon roared, sending my uncle scurrying backwards in his wheelchair.

I beat my fist against my chest.What was that about?

You know.

Sweat broke out along my skin as my dragon unfurled his wings, making my chest broader while the shadows gathered to me. The foundation of my world shook with every step the human woman took, drawing me toward her as if with a binding thread.

Fate.

Impossible.

I shook my head.

It was the stress. The summer heat. The fucking end of the world breathing down my neck.

I was too old for thoughts like this.

She was a woman. A beautiful woman. I’d have to be blind not to notice. Her being here played on my primitive nature. It’d been a while since I’d entertained any male urges.

Get ahold of yourself. It’s not what you think.

It’s fate.

It couldn’t be. This was lust. Instant attraction. Appreciation of the arts. She looked like some fallen goddess sent to Earth to raise hell.

I hadn’t known I had a type, but I’d just figured it out.

The woman changed course from the front door, heading over to me instead.

And I stood taller, liking it more than I should that her attention was focused on me. The way her eyes widened in shock and then approval before anger took over again. The quickening of her heart.

“Are you the owner of this?” The woman waved her hand as if the small gesture could encompass the entirety of my home.

For the first time in my adult life, I didn’t feel big enough.

Like I needed to try harder to earn her respect. I should’ve built more to prove I was worthy—should’ve showered before she arrived.

The wind changed direction as she stood waiting for an answer. What had she asked? If I was the owner?

I nodded. My throat was suddenly too dry to speak. That scent of hers. It was vanilla and honey. Rich like oat milk poured into a warm bath.

Mine.

Her hand went to her waistband.

It was only then that I noticed the gun.

“I don’t know who the hell you think you are or what you’re doing on my property, but you have ten minutes to pack your things and leave.” Her voice was a whip, slashing through the heat and haze that surrounded me.

---