Page 71 of Devoted to the Dragon

She crawls off the mattress and dashes off the float, calling as she runs down the dock, “This was a mistake.”

Before I’m conscious of it, I’m running after her. “Wait, please. I’m sorry. I don’t know how to do this.”

She slows to a stop but doesn’t face me. “Do what?”

The sound doesn’t have any of the softness she gave to her wolves. I want todeservethat.

It’s overtime, but I still don’t have the words.I take three steps on a rickety dock.

She doesn’t flee.

Hand trembling, I reach for her waist. I’m more than half terrified, but I tell her the truth. “I don’t know how to feed you dinner and pretend I didn’t wreck everything between us before it started. I’m sorry I didn’t protect you the second I met you. I felt it?—”

“What did you feel?” she asks.

I step closer, trying to get a trace of her scent. She shakes in my grasp, and it feels as if the world pauses in anticipation, the air thick with tension. The rune on my chest throbs, blinding white beneath my shirt. I nuzzle into the crook of her neck, speaking into her ear. “That you were it for me. That I was going to burn my whole world down to have a taste of you. That even though we just met, I’m already yours.”

She whirls around, clutching my throat in a tight grasp. Her eyes are full of fire as she grits out her words. “Those are pretty lies. But how can I ever trust a word you say?”

Speaking around my dragon’s death grip is difficult, but I manage. “I fucked up. I’m sorry. Please believe that if you can believe anything.”

She crumbles, but it’s a violent folding, like all the air being let out of a balloon. She’s loud, fists beating against my chest, her words half sobs. “I hate you. I hate you for showing up. For working with the king. I hate that you bonded me.”

Her words lash as much as her arms, every word another strike.

I take it. Of course I do.

When the pounding on my chest has turned to sobs, I scoop her up and bring her back to the tent. It’s awkward getting us both down so low without falling on my ass, but I manage. She’s in my arms. That’s all I’ve wanted since I met her. But the feeling is bittersweet because I didn’t want her like this, not breaking because of what I am and what I did.

The muffled words against my chest are so low I almost miss them. “I hate you because I can’t stop wanting you even after that.”

Her admission both guts me and gives me hope. I rub my thumb under her eye and raise it for a taste, wishing I had my shadows right now. I need to know the flavor of her tears and whether they taste more of rage, longing, or heartbreak.

I brush her hair away from her tear-streaked face and tug under her chin. “I know, baby. I know. But I promise I’ll make it better if you let me.”

Chapter 33

Randi

The body-snatching is contagious, apparently. My eyes are leaky faucets, and my stomach is in knots. Ever since that night in the woods, I’ve felt off-kilter. Raw. That pisses me off because I barely do vulnerable, and certainly not withhim.

But I can’t deny the pounding of my blood, the wetness between my legs, or the desire heavy in my limbs. Despite everything, I want him. Maybe to suffer? Maybe to ease the hole he left in my chest?

It all makes me angry and desperate to return the world to rights. I spring for Knox, grab hold of his hair, mold my lips over his, and take control.

Sex I can do.Sex will give me the upper hand, lead me back onto steadier ground, and ease the burning need inside me.

Knox doesn’t stop me or fight back, and that pisses me off even more.

The nip to his bottom lip isn’t gentle. I lick a stripe up the side of his neck and pull the lobe of his ear between my teeth. “I don’t want you to make it better. I want it to hurt.”

Knox flips the script and pins me beneath him so that I’m pressed into the mattress. Heat washes over my skin. There’sa knowing gleam in his eye, his deep voice like the crack of thunder on the edge of a coming storm. “You want to hate-fuck? Is that it, little dragon?”

The scar on his delicately beautiful face mocks me, a reminder that my soul called to him and chose him too. I want to hate it. I hate that I don’t. I spit in his face, struggling beneath him. His arms grab for my hands to subdue me, but his movement gives me an opening.

We twist and tangle until I come out on top. It’s my turn to pin him down. I clench my teeth and grab for his throat, but he surges upward, hands everywhere, binding me, mouth a brushfire on my exposed skin.

I land beneath him, and we grapple, each of us vying for control. Knox's heavy hips weigh me down, and I growl, frustrated that I like it, that the fight is leaking from me, filling the air with a crisp, cooling mint.

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