Page 11 of Dragon Unleashed
With my free hand, I fumble for the pause button at the same moment the wyvern’s book manages to tear itself loose and fly off the shelf. The cover shudders, threatening to open, and I forget about the story, racing for the book.
A screeching cry leaks out from between the pages, echoing in the ear that doesn’t have a sexy scene playing out.
Wyverns are hideously high-pitched.
And this one is definitely going to get my ass busted if I don’t hurry up.
The book shivers against the floor, jumping a few inches to the left. I almost miss it in its chaotic attempt to dodge me, but thankfully, I’m more agile than a three-thousand-year-old wyvern terror bound in leather.
Quickly setting aside my latte, I lunge as the book leaps and only barely manage to grab the thing out of the air. The wyvern screeches louder. I wince and proceed to wrestle the damn thing, stumbling left then right again. Through clenched teeth, I utter, “Clauseruntque.”
With a final shove against my midsection, the book falls still.
Unfortunately, the momentum has left me in perpetual motion.
Careening backward, my shoulder hits the shelf behind me—hard.
I grunt, releasing the now-quiet wyvern book. It falls to the floor with a harmless thud—followed by several more muted thuds that have dread crawling up my spine faster than I can turn to see what’s fallen.
“Shit,” I hiss, bending low to grab the three other titles I’ve just knocked loose.
Maybe the books didn’t notice. Maybe they won’t even—
Before I can finish thinking the thought, the first book wakes.
The Mummy,it reads.
Dread coils in my belly. I’ve seen this movie. And there’s no Brendan Fraser here to save me.
It trembles, and I panic. Throwing my entire body on top of the thing, I scream, “Clauseruntque!”
The book falls silent.
Something wet touches my ankle and I remember the latte. Twisting my body, I spot the offending pumpkin drink tipped over from the chaos and currently leaking onto the carpet.
With a heavy sigh, I reach for it, easing my weight off the trio of books I’ve yet to re-shelve. The moment I do, I realize my mistake.
A spine cracks open too fast for me to read the lettering. Pages blow by, and magic stirs the air. It snaps around me like an electric tornado, a whirl of color and sound that blocks out everything else.
“No!” I scream, no longer caring if someone hears because, in the next few seconds, I could be dead. “Hel—!”
My cry is cut short as a creature escapes straight from the pages of the story itself and into existence right in the center of the puddle of pumpkin spice.
Chapter4
Paige
Ibrace myself, fully expecting a rukh or a harpy, or something equally vicious. That is my luck, after all. Instead, I see a man. My gaze travels over his angled face.That jaw could cut glass.His eyes, an impossible blue, shine brightly in the dim lights of the library.
Unashamed, I continue my perusal. He’s standing still, so I drink him in, part of me waiting for him to strike, the other wondering if this isn’t a figment of my imagination. Or maybe the audiobook has gotten into my head, made me finally snap from the sexual frustration.
Because, hot damn, this male is sex on a stick.
Brown hair falls to his broad shoulders in loose, damp waves that are just begging for me to run my fingers through them. Those shoulders lead to biceps that women can onlydreamabout, which then connect to an expansive chest and rock-hard abs with more ripples than I can count.
Seriously, do this guy’s abs have abs?
It’s not until my eyes follow the perfect “V” of his hips and levels on amassivedick that I realize he’s completely and totally naked. I’m struck stupid by the sight of it.
