Page 86 of Fated for his Flame

The sovereign looked at the knife, then at Chloe. “Why would you not give this to them?” she asked. “You do indeed work for the CIA, do you not?”

Chloe looked at the sovereign, then the knife, then me, and back again. “Did,” she said bitterly, shaking her head. “I did work for them.”

“Why don’t you anymore?” I asked, my heart soaring with fresh hope.

“Because of you!” she shouted. “Because I love you, and I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t give you up. I tried. But then I kept imagining them making weapons from that damn knife and using them on you. I dreamed of coming across your body on a battlefield somewhere and knowing your death was on my hands. I couldn’t do that. So, I told them tiny details, like how your government is arranged, things like that. But I couldn’t give them more, Silas. I couldn’t. So, they sent me back and said don’t risk contact again unless I have something worthwhile. I was exiled. For you! It’s crazy! I’m insane.”

“You’re not insane,” I said, grabbing her hands as she started to wring them repeatedly.

“You’re in love,” the sovereign said.

“I gave it all up,” she whispered. “All of it. My entire life left behind.”

“Then let me help you make a new one,” I said, wrapping her up in a hug. “Here. With me.”

She broke, finally, flinging her arms around me as she soaked my shirt with her tears. I held her, stroking her hair and back, whispering sweet nothings into her ear, telling her it would be okay.

At some point. the sovereign left, leaving us alone in her office. It was a tacit approval Chloe could stay. But in my care. If she did something again, revealed she was still acting even now and betrayed us, then I would suffer as well.

But I had no fears about that. Chloe was mine now, and I was hers. The only thing left to do was to make the bond official.

I couldn’t wait.

Chapter Forty

Chloe

After we left the sovereign’s office, we went home and slept soundly until the next day. Both of us were exhausted mentally and physically. I woke up to the smell of bacon, eggs, and hashbrowns invading my nostrils like a foreign army, while my mouth salivated and prepared to do battle with the enemy troops.

Parading downstairs, still in the glani I’d worn the day before, I stopped in shock at the table in the kitchen of Silas’ apartment.

“What the actual fuck?” I said, staring at the literal mounds of food on it. “Are we having a buffet for the whole isle?”

“Nofht afhh arllgll,” Silas said from somewhere behind the mountain.

I stared as he put away mouthful after mouthful.

“How are you even finding room for it all?” I said, fixing myself a reasonable plate. “Good grief.”

The food was disappearing faster than should have been possible. I knew dragon metabolisms were fast, but …

“Fought a lot yesterday. Flew a lot and didn’t eat last night,” Silas said between mouthfuls. “Being a dragon is very calorie intense. I have to refuel. I also got hurt.”

“You did?” I yelped as egg flew from my mouth in a very unladylike manner. “Where? When? How?”

“Right,” he said. “I guess you don’t know.”

I listened to the story about the duel he’d fought with Caine for satisfaction. About how the loser had stabbed him in the back and how he’d killed Caine before coming to get me.

“Let me see,” I said, hurrying over to his side and pulling his shirt up.

“I’m fine,” he said around another mouthful, but he didn’t stop me as I inspected the ugly red mark. “See.”

“You’ve got a hell of a lot of bruising,” I said. “It must have gone deep.”

“It nearly severed my wing tendon,” he admitted. “Flying was less than pleasant. Even today, it’s a bit stiff. But I’ll be fine once this food gets to work. That’s the reason it looks so bad. I didn’t eat last night when we got back.”

“Okay,” I said, leaning in to kiss the fresh skin before pulling his shirt down. “If you’re sure.”

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