Page 22 of Dragon Unleashed
In the long moments that follow, I realize she’s not coming back. Not tonight. And the realization leaves me strangely lonely. I’ve kissed women before. Shared the beds of willing females even as we both knew it was going nowhere. But this? This is the first time a woman kissedme.
The first time I’ve felt with absolute certainty that a woman was meant to be mine. Even though, realistically, I know she cannot be.
It makes no sense. Why would my beast choose someone who can never be mine? Why put us both through the misery of a bond when nothing can come from it?
I cross over and sit on the couch, staring at the shadowy wall across from me.
Paige and I are worlds apart, and I’m not sure even my dragon can remedy that.
Chapter7
Paige
Isleep like shit, tossing and turning until I nearly give in and grab my earbuds with the idea that listening to an audiobook might help. But then I remember what a disaster that led to last night. And nearly the day before that, if I'm being honest.
Ugh.
Hoc was already right once—saying that my audiobooks were a dangerous distraction. I’m not going to make that true a second time.
I groan, the throbbing between my legs growing tenfold when I picture the tall, hot, and half-naked dragon currently sleeping just outside my room. I swear, I think my blue balls are worse than any male’s. Years’ worth of listening to other people get theirs has left a giant dick-sized hole in my heart—or something like that.
Finally, the light outside my window begins to change with the coming dawn. It lures me like a Bat-Signal, and I toss back the covers to stumble over to the view. My sheer curtains are a formality; I know full well the glamour that protects this building is impenetrable. To the outside world and the humans in it, the walls housing the Athenaeum appear droll and forgetful. Sure, the architecture matches the rest of downtown Boston, a description that lands somewhere between classical Colonial and modern rehab. But the magic is about more than appearance. It’s about the literal repulsion it causes anyone who looks directly at it. The moment they try, something in their mind directs them away again.
The human mind is such a fragile thing, easily influenced and awfully short-sighted. The real irony is that most don’t even need the magic to pass us by without a second thought. Their obsession over their own lives—the self-centered immersion they feel toward their devices and their own petty problems—is protection enough.
I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t born witness to it my entire life from this very window. I’ve spent hours studying human behavior from this very spot, and my conclusion is that, while living up here can be lonely at times, I don’t belong down there. I’m not one of them.
That doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate the scenery their world has to offer.
The view, beyond the pedestrians crossing this way and that, is stellar. Today, the hazy morning offers no more than a glimpse of the harbor that lies at the end of this busy street. I’ve never been out there, but Hoc assures me it’s not worth the trip.
Something I seriously doubt.
Worth it or not, I’m stuck here. As much a part of the Athenaeum as any book on its shelf. A prisoner in this opulent jail cell.
Turning away from the window, I shower and dress. My house guest hasn’t made a sound from the living room, and I alternate between wanting him gone forever and worried he left after my stunt last night.
Butdamn.That kiss.Thatwas the lip-smacking, world-tilting, heart-racing, panty-dropping thing of romance novels. Unfortunately, I’m all too aware that mine is not a love story.
By the time I emerge from my bedroom, I feel slightly more in control. A leather jacket and charcoal eyeliner tend to do that—or at least offer me an illusion of it, anyway.
Aries is sprawled on the couch, and I breathe a sigh of relief that he’s still here. Though, maybe I shouldn’t be happy about it. I still have to get through today without anyone finding out what I’ve done. Maybe admitting my mistake to Hoc is the best way to handle this. Maybe he can—
No. I shake off the thought immediately, fear clogging my throat. Hoc has never shown an inch of mercy where the books are concerned. And I can’t stomach the thought of Aries getting hurt.
I tell myself it’s because it’s my fault he was ripped from his world. That if he is hurt or killed for my transgression, then his death will weigh fully on my shoulders.
But I know that if I examine that reasoning closer, I’ll see that it’s something else entirely. So, I do what I do best: I ignore it and make my way to the kitchen to start the coffeepot. After all, caffeine fixes everything.
LikeWindexinMy Big Fat Greek Wedding.
The rustling of a blanket on the couch sends a jolt through me. I don’t look up, though. Not even when I hear him come into the kitchen. My skin prickles with the sensation of his gaze on me, but I concentrate on pouring the coffee, mixing the cream.
Aries doesn’t say a word. Somehow, that’s worse.
Finally, there’s nothing left for me to do but turn and face him. With a mug in each hand, I do just that, with the addition of plastering a stiff smile on my face.
“Morning,” I say, way too chipper for a girl who threw herself at a man-god last night with absolutely zero shame.
