Page 102 of A Witch and Her Dragon
The waltz swells and dips, demanding my focus as I lead Alina through the dance. And at the very end, as the strings fade away in a trill of vibrato, she wraps both hands around my neck, pushes onto her toes, and presses her lips to mine as if no one is watching.
And I’m certain that this moment, with her in my arms and the candlelight glittering down across us, will be engraved into my memory for as long as I live.
My first dance with her. And hopefully one of many, many to come.
Epilogue
Alina
Eight Months Later
“IS THAT ALL YOU’VE GOT?” Raelan arches a dark brow at me, his lips quirked into a challenging smirk. “Really?”
Thin morning sunlight slips through the big windows in my bedchamber, though it shifts with the movement of clouds across the sky.
It’s been raining for three days, and the fires have been burning nonstop, trying to chase the unseasonably cool chill away.
But I’ve got my own personal fire, one that never burns out.
And right now, I’ve got him pinned beneath me, my legs on either side of his chest, his wrists trapped in my hands. I struggle to hold him down, gritting my teeth as he pushes back against me, as though I weigh no more than a loaf of bread.
With a smirk of my own, I call my magic to my hands, shackling his wrists to the bed with ice. He blinks at me, then turns his head to regard his glimmering manacles. I sit up and cross my arms, victorious.
Seems my first year of magical studies paid off.
But then, with what appears to be very little effort, he shatters right through the ice, sending the glittering chunks skittering across my hardwood floor, where the fire in the hearth quickly turns them to water.
“Silly witch.” Raelan wraps an arm around my waist and flips me onto my back. The mattress catches me in a soft embrace. “Don’t you know better than to try to best a dragon?”
I sigh and roll my eyes at him. “I’ve got three more years at the academy. By then, I think you’ll have met your match.”
Raelan gives me a smile. “We’ll see.”
His gaze goes to my throat. Softly, he pushes my braid aside, revealing the scar that marks my skin. Even now, all these months after his claiming of me, the scar tissue still tingles whenever he touches it, as if the magic he gave me recognizes when he’s near, calls out to him, yearns for him.
I wiggle an arm out from under him and trace his stubbled jaw—he’ll most certainly shave before we return to Coven Crest today—then allow my fingers to drift down his throat. He has his own scars, those left behind from the magic in the chain that bound him for so many years. Since his claiming of me, he’s not needed that magic once. It’s as if his dragon has willingly allowed itself to be comforted, softened.
Though never tamed.
I want him to remain wild, to keep that hunger for freedom alive in his bones. Because I feel it too. And I want to be free with him.
He’s my dragon, my mate. My equal in every way.
Except when it comes to chess. Then he’s hopeless, and I’ll best him every time.
My fingers wrap about his jaw, and I pull him close. His lips meet mine, and I tug him down atop me, wanting to feel his weight against my chest, between my thighs. I ease my legs around him, feel the slip of my satin nightdress as the fabric inches up my thighs.
His groan is a rumble in his chest. Against mine, his skin grows hot.
Then there’s a sharp knock upon my door.
“Your Highness? Are you awake?”
It’s Ms. Fairhaven. And I know her well enough to know that I’ve got about ten seconds before she opens the door.
Breaking our kiss, I shove Raelan under the covers, then pull them over his head and arrange my face into a mask of sleepiness right as Ms. Fairhaven opens the door.
When she sees me still in bed, she arches a brow at me. “Your Highness, you know you’re leaving today to return to school. The carriage is already packed, yet you dawdle.”
