Page 39 of Rescued By The Dragon

“Oh,” I said. “Yeah, she gave me a long list of things to do before the ball tomorrow. They are inviting people over for drinks after. It’s her way of ruining my chances of going.”

Dorran slid his tongue over his teeth. “Hmm. Like what?”

“It’s too many things to say.”

Dorran offered me his hand, and I took it, letting him lead me back into his room. He sat on the ottoman at the end of his bed and patted the place next to him.

“You’re making me nervous,” I mumbled while sitting down beside him, and digging my shoe into the fluffy rug.

“I want to talk to you about mating with a dragon.”

Like the child I was, a flaming heat rolled over my body. I let my hair fall in my face to hide the humiliation I knew rested there.

“Mating with a dragon,” I whispered, my voice catching in my throat.

Dorran lifted my chin with the side of his finger, his green playful eyes more serious than before. He swallowed and his throat moved roughly. “Yes, Amara. You are my mate.”

I was his mate.

I said it over and over in my head.

Like a song, that I was afraid I would forget. He’d told me before but I’d blocked it out. It couldn’t be true, could it?

Dragons had one desired, fated, whatever you wanted to call it—mate. My mouth opened in shock. “You were serious? I’m your mate?”

He nodded swiftly. “Yes. My parents don’t care about fated mates. They are not fated mates. Their marriage was prearranged. I don’t want that life. Do you understand?”

Did I? Was he saying we were meant to be together?

Dorran leaned forward with his plush lips an inch from mine. “I want you.”

Sliding my palm up his chest, I placed my hand against him and pushed him backward. “What does that mean?”

“That means out of all the females in the world, you were hand-selected by God, to be with me. Most Dragons that find their mate take them seriously. I’m one of them.”

My gaze shifted from Dorran’s intense eyes to the floor where my worn tennis shoes stared up at me. “You’re worried?” he asked in a whisper. “You’re worried about what?”

“Everything,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m not meant for this life. Look at me. Look at you. I’m not cut out for life like this—,”

“My life is my own. Whatever you choose to do, I’ll support you, Amara. I’m not like my family.”

I knew that.

I could see the difference.

Curling my fingers around the ottoman, I looked up at him. “Tell me about the mating process.”

Dorran seemed to like the talk of it. His dragon surfaced, and I watched as he blinked and fought him back down. Sliding my teeth against my bottom lip, I watched as he gained control.

“The mating process is different for dragons. They teach it in public schools now.”

Dorran’s wings spread wide, and I gasped at the wind it caused in the room. Dorran stood up, dropped down to his knees, and the tip of his wing circled close to my throat.

“We prick you wherever we choose, and it leaves a mark against your skin. My family’s mark is blue,” he smiled a cunning smile. “And we both know you look stunning in blue.”

My breathing began to grow. “What happens after the prick?”

Dorran’s eyes turned slowly toward my mouth, and then to the curve of my breasts. “Then I complete the ritual with my new mate—my new forever—and I take you to bed. All night. Into the next day. Into the next week—,”

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