Page 13 of Fire's Storm
My dragon half stirs, a separate consciousness awakening after decades of forced dormancy.
My hands span her waist, feeling her heat through thin fabric. The perfect smallness of her against my much larger frame sends protective instincts roaring through my system. I shift my stance, angling my body to shield her from any potential threat, though none is visible. My thumbs brush against the exposed skin where her shirt has ridden up. More electricity arcs at the contact. Her pulse jumps beneath my fingers.
With tremendous effort, I break the kiss. My breathing comes harsh, ragged. Each inhale fills my lungs with her scent—cinnamon, honey, and something uniquely female.
"Not here," I growl.
My voice barely sounds human, vocal cords already shifting toward draconic form. My eyes burn electric blue, casting their own light in the darkness.
"Not like this."
The possessiveness flooding my system terrifies me.
Her hazel eyes, now flecked with electric blue, widen at the rough edge in my voice. But she doesn't pull away. Instead, she leans closer, her own breathing unsteady.
"What's happening to me?" she whispers. "To us?"
The question breaks through the haze of my desire, forcing me to confront the reality of our situation. I face an impossible choice—take her to Emberhold and possibly risk her life, or leave her vulnerable to the Purity hunters who will surely detect her awakening power.
The storm's intensity increases. Lightning strikes another nearby tree, splitting it down the middle. Her firefighter instincts kick in as she scans for spreading flames, but the rain has already doused any potential fire.
My clan would kill her on sight. Humans aren't permitted in dragon territory under penalty of death. Yet the alternative is unthinkable.
Her scent has changed in just these few minutes. Dragon markers emerging in her pheromone signature, becoming more pronounced with each passing moment. The hunters will track her within days.
Protect the female, my dragon half demands.Hide her. Keep her.
"I need to take you somewhere safe," I tell her, forcing my voice toward human registers. "Somewhere others like us can help with your transition."
"Others like us?" She picks up on the exact words I shouldn't have used. Her mind, sharp even in crisis. "You mean there are more... whatever you are? Whatever I'm becoming?"
I nod, scanning the forest around us. We've already lingered too long. The storm has drawn attention—humans investigating the unnatural weather pattern.
"Dragon," I say plainly. "I'm a storm dragon. And you carry dormant storm dragon genes that are awakening."
To her credit, she doesn't laugh. Doesn't call me crazy. She simply absorbs the information, eyes narrowing as she processes. Connecting dots most humans would refuse to see.
"That's not possible," she says finally, but there's no conviction in her voice. Her body knows the truth even if her mind resists.
My skin feels too tight, too human to contain what surges within as I guide her toward my land vehicle. The dragon inside me stretches against its confinement, demanding release. Wanting to take to the skies with its mate.
"We need to move," I manage, each word a struggle as my mouth restructures toward a partial muzzle. "The storm's drawing attention."
Indeed, in the distance, emergency vehicle lights flash—humans investigating the unnatural weather pattern. Her colleagues, perhaps, coming to find their missing captain.
The thought of other males near her sends my body into a protective stance. I move to position myself between her and the distant lights, one arm curving around her shoulders to guide her in the opposite direction. My vision sharpens, the world narrowing to just her and potential threats to her safety.
I help her into my custom-built SUV, designed to accommodate my larger-than-human frame. When our fingers touch grabbing for the door handle, electricity arcs between us again, blue-white sparks jumping from her skin to mine.
The jolt sends heat through my system. My control slips momentarily, a growl escaping that's entirely draconic in nature—low, possessive, primal.
Her pupils dilate in response, her breathing quickening. A flush spreads across her cheeks, down her neck. She feels it too—the connection strengthening with each touch.
I circle to the driver's side, muscles locked with the effort of remaining still, of not claiming her immediately. My hands ache to touch her again, my body angling toward hers even as I try to focus on driving.
The drive gives me precious minutes to plan our approach. I steal glances at Phoenix as we drive toward the hidden entrance to Emberhold. Her copper hair glows in the dashboard lights, loose around her shoulders after the storm's wind destroyed her practical ponytail.
I find myself reaching out whenever we navigate sharp turns, one arm extending protectively across her body—an instinctive gesture to shield her from potential impact. Each time our bodies connect, electricity arcs between us, visible in the darkness.
