Page 16 of Dragon Rivals of New York

Every few decades we’d attack and try to take back New York, but it always ended in death. Like it did seven years ago.

I turn away from Jethro and take Sora’s hand, gently pulling her toward the temple. I should have landed closer, because now we have to walk. Not that it’s far, but my mate’s high-heeled shoes sink into the earth every other step, making me immediately regret the decisions. No matter how eager I was to get Jethro off my back, I shouldn’t have sacrificed my mate’s comfort.

I lift her into my arms before Jethro can get the same idea. Fuck, I could hold her like this forever. She feels right in myarms. Substantial and real.

“You can’t carry me,” she protests, wiggling.

I lift my eyebrows at her as if to say,“What do you think I was just doing?”

“Okay, fine. But that was in your dragon form. Now you’re… you’re…”

“He’s deliciously naked,” Jethro says, finishing her sentence from behind us.

I glance over my shoulder and catch him looking at my ass. He lifts his head and our eyes lock. He smirks and throws me a wink. Asshole.

If he succumbs to the mating illness after Sora chooses me, I’ll be glad to see it.

The temple is lit with torches that throw fire into the night, and the sound of people talking drifts out. For now, there’s no music.

“It’s like something out of Indiana Jones,” Sora whispers. Jethro chuckles. It won’t seem so much like a classic family movie when we get inside.

The rest of the Silver Horde is already gathered, along with a few key members of the Gold Horde. Since Cyrus is Midas’s brother and his entry into the Silver Horde is what broughtpeace between our hordes, this event is doubly significant.

When we enter the temple and Sora sees everyone naked, she shifts uncomfortably. I set her down now that we’re inside. She immediately drops her gaze to the floor. I know humans care more about modesty than we do, but her reaction seems extreme. She was just as hesitant and timid to look at me when I undressed back at Jethro’s. And we’re mates!

Her head is so low she’s going to run into something if she doesn’t watch where she’s going.

I move behind her and place my hands on her shoulders. “Look, Ara’ha. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Jethro takes her hand. “You wanted new experiences.” He’s close enough that only Sora and I can hear him. “Look around, lovely.”

“I… I didn’t mean…”

We’re cut off by a confident, “Welcome.”

Sora finally glances up and gasps. “She’s gorgeous.”

I smile. Adrianna Ra’a, my queen and closest friend, is stunning, but she’s nothing compared to my mate.

“Welcome to the first Night of the Goddess.” Adrianna doesn’t waste time with pomp and circumstance. She steps forward and breathes fire on the silver floor in front of theplatform where she stands. The floor melts into liquid silver. She brings a blade to her hand and slices, letting the blood drip down into the pool.

Her eyes catch with mine, and she nods. I let go of Sora and walk to my queen, not thinking my little mate would follow, but she stays close on my heels. When I take the knife from Adrianna, Sora positions herself slightly between us and glares at the woman with a fire I haven’t seen from her yet. It makes my heart warm.

Adrianna gives Sora an assessing once over, then offers me a smile. She approves. I wrap my arms around my mate and bring the blade in front of us both, slicing my hand to let my blood drip down into the pool.

Each dragon in the Silver Horde will add their blood to the pool tonight. For the next seven days, the pool will be a place of prayer and devotion, a place of transformation. On the seventh day, it’ll harden again and Goddess Week will be over.

Sora gasps when I make the cut, and grabs my hand, but I hold it out of her reach, waiting for the blood to fall into the pool before I pass the knife to the next member of my horde. Once I let her see the cut, it’s already healed.

Her brows pinch as she looks from my unscarred hand to the scar on my thigh. Her gaze lifts, and she takes in the room, finally allowing herself to look as the knife is passed from oneperson to the next. It’s clear what’s confusing her.

“Some scars don’t heal as well as others,” I whisper.

“Why?” she asks.

I shrug.

Jethro leans in on her other side. “If a dragon is in a deep emotional state, such as grief, when they’re injured, it takes longer for the wound to heal. Sometimes those wounds scar.”

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