Page 99 of Devoted to the Dragon

I press kisses up his side, then whisper in his ear, “I fucking love that you want it back, and I can’t wait to play.” I nip his neck, and his purr sounds in response.

Beside us, Knox howls in laughter. “Please. Details. I need details.”

Gunnar shoves him, but it’s without malice. “Don’t knock it until you try it, asshole.”

“You sly, cheeky dragon. Is it another energy lock?” Knox asks. He picks up his phone and texts furiously before tossing it back on a blanket. “How did you learn to use energy magic anyway? The wolves don’t. I thought maybe it was just the serpents?”

“Dragons use energy in crystal work and healing.” We always have, though only our healers can access it the way I think both Vandera and Knox can. Knox has a powerful connection to magic, but it’s raw, as though he’s never been trained.

“How? Can you see it or taste it?” he asks, mind racing and bond curious.

“Not the way serpents can.”

He asks a dozen questions at once, sitting up excitedly.

I try to answer them, explaining how I use magical energy to create the club’s cages and induce ruts. Still, Knox gets sidetracked every few seconds and asks a dozen more questions.

Gunnar sits up, shaking his head. “I’m no expert, but let me be real with you because she’s making it sound all technical.”

Knox laughs, making an exaggerated motion for him to continue.

Fennik joins our pile, already laughing. “I can’t wait to hear your version, pup.”

Gunnar settles in like a full-blown storyteller, his hands already waving around. “It starts with the rut-haze hash from candles instead of your smoke. She’s got naked dancers in cages and everyone pissing themselves trying not to come or bite somebody by accident. So, you’d never make it.”

Knox flips him off, but Gunnar laughs.

“Then after you survive the haze, you move on to this one.” Gunnar points at me.

“Of course she’s the boss fight,” Knox jokes.

The two of them go back and forth until Fennik and I are bent over, tears in our eyes. They give a recap of our bonding the same way, speculating wildly and making my dragon’s challenge seem like the takedown of an evil sex pirate or something.

Gunnar looks at us imperiously. “Laugh all you want, but you know this shit needs a manual.”

It’s true. That’s why we have Shadow Books, but talking about it with them is definitely more fun.

After we all settle back together in a pile, Knox asks more serious questions about the magic of the club and how I think that’s connected to the wolves’ dying magic. I haven’t ever really talked to anyone who practices magic—besides Vandera—in a long time. His questions get me thinking. He interjects, sharing details about how the clubs he runs for his family work and the way that magic could be used at Frenzy.

That discussion leads to the wolves’ mating magic and his family’s treaty. It grabs my wolves’ attention, and they join the conversation, helping me think through some of our next steps.

We talk for so long that the next time I notice, the fire is banked coals and dawn is waking on the horizon. Gunnar is already asleep, lying between Fennik’s legs, tail wrapped around my foot.

Knox’s thumb rubs along his new bite mark on my shoulder, that tug of arousal pulling me back to his violet eyes. “To bed?”

When I nod, he wraps us all in his shadow bands. The smooth, silky touch sends warmth to my belly. He shadow-walks us back to my nest. It’s surreal, feeling the shadowy current instead of just the gauzy memories, but the rush is the same. It’s like trying to walk inside a tornado, the whipping wind so strong I can barely orient myself. Knox doesn’t falter, and in seconds, we’re back in my nest, all of us snuggled in the same configuration as when we left.

“When can we do that again?”I ask.

“Anytime you want, baby.” Knox grins.

Fennik holds his stomach, looking at the two of us. “That can be something that’s just the two of you,” he says, looking a little green.

Gunnar mumbles that he needs a redo before yawning and passing back out.

I wiggle around until I’m sandwiched between Fennik and Knox, my hands in Gunnar’s hair. I’m too freaking sore to want anything but their scents and their warm bodies, but even that is so good that I can’t help but purr.

Knox’s shadows unfurl, and Fennik adds his purr to mine. The room becomes a sleep cocktail of citrus woods and smokey sage.Sleep tugs at the edges, but I want to savor the moment a little longer.

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