Page 86 of Stolen
“No tattoos. Anywhere.”
“Of course not.”
A pause.
Then, far too casually, “Well, not yet. But I admit, my Dragon sigil on your back? The tail snaking around your hip? Perhaps later.”
“What?!”
He must see the weariness in my eyes, because he lifts the blanket and pats the space beside him with a crooked smile.
“Shhh. Sleep now,” he murmurs, tugging me close. “You’re safe, and you’re mine.”
And despite myself, I melt right into him.
Silver hair and all.
I mean, we’ve been tangled up for hours, and there’s no clock in this room, or come to think of it, in this whole dang realm far as I’ve noticed.
I have no idea if it’s even morning, but my body is starting to crash.
“Sleep,” he whispers, voice a sinful purr in the shell of my ear, “Dream of all the wonders of us.”
“But Alaric, I don’t like needles?—”
“No needles. Just sleep now. We’ll talk tattoos and markings later,my viyella.”
And damn it, I do as he says.
I fall asleep in the arms of a Dragon.
Marked, claimed, confused as hell, and just a little in love.
Because who needs normal hair when you’ve got silver strands of magic and a mate who holds you like you’re the only treasure he’s ever hoarded?
A warm breath stirs against the back of my neck.
My body aches—in the good way—and I’m snuggled against a literal wall of muscle and heat that is Alaric, who’s currently spooning me like he owns the position.
Which, to be fair, he kind of does.
Or did, several times over.
I’m somewhere between dreams and reality, vaguely aware of how content I feel for the first time in what feels like years.
Until, suddenly, BANG.
Chapter19
Jules
The Eyrie—TheBedroom
The door to our chamber flies open.
“Lord Alaric!” Shade’s voice cuts through the room, urgent, sharp. “They’ve breached the North Road!”
“What the—” I jerk up, pulling the sheets with me, only to freeze when two enormous male figures loom in the doorway behind her like gods of war.
