Page 24 of Fated to the Drakarn Commander (Drakarn Mates 4)

Rage. At the Ignarath warrior. At the situation. At me? Or something deeper, something tied to that burning look in his eyes?

He banked—sharp, sudden. My breath hitched as instinct took over again. I clutched tighter, pressing myself against the unyielding wall of his chest. His heart hammered under my palm—too fast, too hard. A war drum echoing the frantic beat in my own ribs.

"I would have killed him," he bit out, voice a low growl nearly lost to the wind. Each word was obsidian sharp. "Should have."

The first words. They shattered the charged silence.

I swallowed past the sudden dryness in my throat. "Not worth the diplomatic incident." My voice sounded thin, reedy.

Something rumbled through him, deep in his chest, sinking straight into my bones. "Wortheverything."

That conviction—raw, absolute, scraped from somewhere deep and terrible—sent a shiver down my spine that had nothing to do with the altitude. Or maybe it did.

His eyes found mine. Gold fire. Burning away pretense. Burning awayme. "He touched you."

It was not a question. It was a verdict. A wound ripped open.

"He didn't get far," I managed. I forced steadiness into my voice. I was a liar.

His nostrils flared. Was he scenting me? My lingering fear? The echo of the other male's proximity? Or something else—something stirred by his own words? "Far enough."

Silence again. Thick with it. His wings worked, catching currents rising from the cooling rock below. Effortless grace masked the storm inside. The tension didn't vanish—not in him, not between us. It just … shifted. Twisted into something less like rage, more like … anticipation. A wire pulled taut. Waiting.

Time dissolved. I lost track. Lostmyselfin the steady beat of his wings, the solid pressure of his arms, the impossible, terrifying freedom of the open sky. This. This was what I’d craved since crashing here. This vastness. This escape.

With him.Becauseof him.

Damn it. My brain circled back, trapped in the contradiction. Hating the cage, needing the bars? Needing thekeeper? The way he watched me … the way I was starting to watch him back.

No. Stop.

The light shifted. The suns sank lower, shadows stretching like grasping fingers across the scarred land. Reluctantly—I felt it in the shift of his muscles—he began the descent. We spiraled back toward the mountain. Toward the city. Toward the cage.

"Thank you," I whispered, the wind stealing the sound. But his grip tightened fractionally. He heard. Acknowledged.

We didn't return to the shaft. We landed instead on a narrow stone platform—a balcony carved into the rock face, tucked away, facing the cooler, shadowed side of the mountain. Private. Isolated.

His wings folded with a soft leathery sigh as his feet touched down. But he didn't release me. Not yet. He held me there, suspended, my face level with his. Close. Too close. Close enough to see the faint pulse in his throat, the rigid line of his jaw. Close enough to feel the heat radiating off him. Close enough to drown in those burning gold eyes.

Slowly. Deliberately. He lowered me. My boots scraped stone. His hands lingered at my waist—heavy, hot. Was he steadying me? Or just … unwilling to break contact?

Both.

"Better?" His voice was low. Rougher than the wind.

A simple word. An impossible question.

I nodded. I couldn't trust my voice. The flight had scoured the panic away, yes. But it replaced it with … this. This trembling awareness. This awful, dangerous curiosity.

We stood there. Inches apart. His hands still branded my waist. His wings, not fully retracted, created a partial enclosure. Trapped us in a bubble of scale and heat and fading light. Just us.

"You frightened me." Each syllable sounded dragged from his throat. Like a confession ripped free. Or an accusation.

My spine stiffened. "I wasn't trying to?—"

"I'm not angry." He cut me off, sharp. "Frightened." He repeated the word like it tasted bitter. Like the admission cost him something vital. "When I saw him … touch you—" He broke off. Jaw grinding. A muscle jumped near his temple. "When I couldn't find you. When I thought?—"

Something cracked. Raw. Undone. Right there in his voice. Made my own chest physically ache in response.

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