Page 58 of I Dream of Dragons
This is breaking my heart.
“Jai.”
“You don’t know the pain of losing a mate twice.”
“But I’m not?—”
“Eos.” He lifts his head and gold glimmers in his eyes.
No. Not now. I can’t deal with Phaethon now.
But Jai clenches his jaw and slams his fist on his thigh – his wounded thigh, smearing his hand with blood. A hissed curse escapes him.
The gold fades from his gaze once more.
I swallow a sob. “Jai…”
Slowly he climbs to his feet, his movements clumsier than I’m used to seeing from him. He staggers a little. He rubs a hand over his eyes. “May the Gods help the king when I see him again because I won’t be fucking accountable for my actions.”
“What do you mean?”
“I won’t stand by and watch him touch my mate?—”
“Your mate is dead!”
He growls. Reaches for me, his rough palm cupping my cheek. “Is she? I want…” His chin dips and he draws an uneven breath. “Fuck, what am I doing? You’re right, I don’t know you. You’re finnfolk. This is crazy, impossible, and I should go before?—”
“Jai… don’t.”
His long dark lashes lift. “What do you want?”
“Don’t go.” The words are jagged. They hurt me even as I speak them. “Please, stay.”
He sighs. “Gods, Rae, what you’re doing to me… Dammit it all. Are you mine?”
AmI his?
WhatIam doing? He’s been in my thoughts through every moment of every day and night andhecomplains? What is thisconstant tug on my senses when he’s around? Why does he feel so… dear?
I’ve been distracted from even saving myself in the games because I’m so aware every moment of where he is, if he’s okay, and then the moment he’s near me, my body goes tight and hot, needing him. Despite everything. Despite him being a walking hazard, a living testament to my tragedy.
He says he can’t remember, but is he the man who killed my family? Is he the villain? How can I forget him saving me in the arena, holding me in my bed at night?
“Fuck it.” His strong fingers close over my chin and he walks me backward. “I can’tthinkfrom wanting you so fucking much. I can’t think of anything else but you.”
My back hits the wall.
He puts his hands on either side of my head and cages me but I don’t want to get away. I want him to press closer, to overwhelm me, take me.
His head dips toward mine, lips parting, dark lashes like lace against those sharp, marked cheekbones, and I’m lost. His scent torments me, his powerful, hard body pushes into mine as if trying to merge with me through our clothes.
His lips brush over mine and send a jolt like lightning through me, shaking me to the core.
“If you want to kiss me,” he breathes, “then kiss me. Take what you want. I won’t take from you what you won’t give. Tell me. Command me.”
Every word he speaks ignites me. I want, and I want, and I want him. In every way, in every form. Any way I can have him.
“Holy fuck,” he breathes, “you want me. I can taste your thoughts. I can taste your desire.”
