Page 10 of Burned

Draydon pulls his mate’s arm. “Come on, babe. Lord’s okay.”

As they file away, Dahlia lingers. “If you need anything else, I’ll keep your confidence.”

“I know. Thank you.”

She leaves, and I shut and lock the door, as if a few deadbolts could keep out a dragon. Perhaps I’m just trying to keep a dragonhunterin.

I make it back to my study, and just a few minutes later, Alrick appears in the doorway wearing my t-shirt and a pair of running pants. Both articles of clothing are stretched to their max around his muscles, and my eyes involuntarily move to the way the pants strain over his bulge.

My dragon reacts immediately, pushing to the surface, and I have to quickly drag my gaze away before I reveal myself. I know he suspects I’m a dragon, but I don’t want to find out how he’ll react if I shift, even partially, in front of him.

“Feel better?”

Alrick nods, dragging a hand through his damp tresses. Gods, he is beautiful.

“Good. Please have a seat.”

He does, glancing around at the books and artifacts that cover my office. He seems to notice the family coat of arms behind my head, his gaze lingering on it.

“Where is your family from?” he asks.

“France. Yours?

“Norway.”

I nod, unsure of what to say next, especially given my dragon’s response to the man’s closeness. Obviously, I know why, but how would I begin to explain to a mortal man what I’ve done in order to save his life.

“Did you find anything in the woods besides my wounded body?” he asks, his voice tense and guarded. He’s playing his cards close to his chest. I can’t say I blame him.

“No. Just you.”

His brow creases and he studies my face in an obvious attempt to discern my honesty.

“I didn’t rob you, if that’s your concern. I’m obviously not in need of your material possessions.”

“No, I guess not.” His eyes land on my collection of Fabergé eggs. “You’re rich?”

“Comfortable enough.”

His jaw ticks but he nods, avoiding my gaze. I’m certain he’s not aware of the unease inside me as my dragon longs to get closer. I really fucked this one up.

“How did you…” He pauses, wringing his hands together and staring at the floor. “How did I heal so quickly?”

“Magic.” There’s no reason to lie to him. Not about that aspect, at least.

Alrick narrows his eyes again as he finally turns his gaze to me once more. My dragon lunges forward, almost forcing me out of my chair, desperate to comfort the clearly suspicious man.

“My chest still aches,” he says, his tone revealing a sense of concern and curiosity. “It’s not painful though. Something else.”

“Your wound was severe.”

“But in just a couple of days it’s gone?”

“It’s been more than a couple of days. A week, actually.”

He deflates slightly, reaching up to rub his forehead. “They probably think I’m dead.”

“They?”

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