Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 117336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
It's his voice, but…it's not him, and that's worrying.
I take a few steps down the highway, glancing around. I feel as if I'm being watched, but no one lives in this part of the ruins. It's an industrial area, not even good for regular scavenging. Trying to stay calm, I think of Azar and fill my thoughts with him as I head down the road.
Another blast of chaotic thoughts surges through my head, staggering me. I catch myself and look up, scanning the skies. In the distance, there's a pale, white-gold blob that's moving closer. Azar. It has to be. Excitement flutters in my chest, and I take a few steps in his direction, shocked at how happy I feel. Just the sight of him returning makes me feel such…joy. Such hope. I think about how tenderly he held me while I was sick, and I know I've tried not to love him, but I'm failing. He's had my heart firmly in his grasping claws for a while now. I just need to make sure I can trust him again.
I watch, my face tilted up, as the dragon moves nearer and nearer. He's alarmingly big, and flying so fast that I start to grow a little worried.
He's not slowing down.
I put a hand to my eyes, gazing up at the dragon in the early morning sunshine. He looks like almost every other drakoni out there from this distance, but the steady stream of nonsense and wild, ragged thoughts that invade my mind tell me that it's him. If anything, he's speeding up, and when he lowers his big draconic head as if he's about to pounce on his prey, my skin shivers with awareness, and the urge to run flares through me.
"Azar," I call out as the dragon descends at breakneck speed. Don't run, I tell myself. Don't run. I don't want to activate his prey drive. I close my eyes and remain utterly still, clutching my bag as the dragon dive-bombs toward me, surging through the air.
MINE.
A blast of air and dust hits me in the face, whipping my hair and dress wildly. I remain perfectly still as his thoughts—all disordered nonsense—pour into my head. Isn't my presence supposed to calm him? Bring him back to reality? "I'm here," I say calmly. "I'm here, Azar."
I open my eyes, and the dragon's enormous head is inches away from my own, his eyes completely black.
Oh. I fight back a startled yelp, but I can tell that Azar caught my surprise—his eyes flare with momentary color and his thoughts race with excitement. Okay, definitely can't activate the prey drive. "I'm here," I say, carefully holding an arm out to him. "I'm here. Smell me. Smell your mate. It's me, Melina."
The big dragon's wings shiver and he settles them against his back, his tail thrashing with agitation. He leans in and runs his nose along my arm, his muzzle so big he could swallow my entire body in a single gulp. Even though I probably shouldn't, I squeeze my eyes closed again because he's so enormous it's alarming.
"It's me," I say again, determined to hold still. "Melina. You know my scent, don't you?"
There's no response, and I no longer feel the dragon's breath on my arm. Carefully, I open one eye and I'm staring straight at the beloved, familiar face of my Azar. His hair is wild and tangled like I've never seen before, his body naked, and his teeth are bared, fangs distended. But he's in his human form, and he's my Azar, and I let out a choked little sob of relief before closing the distance between us and rushing into his arms.
"I was so worried," I breathe, flinging my arms around his waist and pressing my cheek to his chest. "They said they couldn't get into contact with you. That you weren't responding."
Azar doesn't move in my arms. His thoughts continue to do that whirling, chaotic thing, and when I pull back to look up at him, his eyes are still completely black.
"Azar?" I ask.
A big, clawed hand sinks into my hair, and Azar twists his grip on my braid, his eyes wild as he stares down at me. He leans in, breathing deeply and taking in my scent.
Mine.
The word flares in my head again, and with it, my body responds. Heat pulses between my thighs, and it occurs to me that Azar might not come back to himself unless I take more drastic measures with this mating bond. As in—actually mating him. Becoming his in all ways.
"I'm here," I whisper, reaching up to tug at one of the thin spaghetti straps of my dress and easing it down my shoulder. "Your mate is here."
He rumbles deep in his chest, the sound feral and distinctly drakoni. Azar leans in again, his nose rubbing against my throat as he inhales deeply at the bite mark, and curls of pleasure race through me. I take his other hand—carefully, carefully—and place it on my breast.