Page 2 of Drawn By Dragonblood
She would be sturdy enough to endure my dragon’s darker desires.
A growl-like groan rose from the deepest recesses of my dragon, but I ignored him, grasping to retain more of what our mate’s scent suggested.
My same six-foot-two height?
No.
I frowned, my inner sight hindered by murky, contradicting shadows.
She was not even five and a half feet tall, perfect for me to take her mouth while thrusting deep into her wet heat and breeding her.
Need rushed through my body, awakening hunger I hadn’t felt in over a decade.
I often woke from dreams of my ex-lover who’d abandoned me—the intimate touches, the solidarity of two souls sharing themselves with each other in the most primal of ways, even if they would never be truly bonded.
Would I remember how to caress and stroke soft skin if fate gifted me a chance to know real love? Could I taste the musk between her thighs and open myself fully to a connection where no secrets hid? Or if she proved robust enough, might I allow my inner beast his own pleasure atop my human satisfaction?
Yessss.
Mine.
The pain of loving and losing wasn’t something I desired to experience again, but that didn’t keep my cock from swelling as my dragon pleaded with me with his usual simplistic words.
Seek.
Take.
I opened my eyes and looked in the direction of the wind that had caressed my face. One of my intended mates lay northeast toward the highest peak. Using my dragon-enhanced sight, I scanned every swell of mountain and valley from my vantage point on my cliff home’s veranda, my heart thrumming with growing excitement.
The idea that I wasn’t alone, the truth a female of my kind roamed the earth with me, flooded through my soul, weakening my restraint.
Shift and fly.
Find.
Claim.
My dragon’s insistence snapped through the shackles I’d mentally used to keep him contained. He threw me off the veranda, and I shifted mid-fall toward the rocks below.
The addictive burn of stretching muscle and bone pumped adrenaline through my system. A single flap of wings black as midnight caught the current along the cliff face, and we shot upward as one in a rush of wind, our pulse rushing and focus on finding what belonged to us.
The scales of our body reflected the sky around us, camouflaging our true form from human sight. If one stared closely enough, they might catch a bend of reality, of light around a creature who had secretly roamed the earth for generations without detection.
If only our ancestors had evolved their form of cloaking earlier, the knights of the medieval age wouldn’t have taken us to near extinction. Our alpha father might still be the leader of our kind—we might not be the only dragonblood alive.
We’re not the last of our kind.
My dragon rarely used full sentences as a means of communication, and my inner human grinned, relaxing as we ascended deeper into the wilderness.
Our gaze flitted from dip and valley to rock and cliff, the memory of our mate’s sweet scent teasing us as we rushed through the sky. Mouth open, our tongue dripped saliva in hopes of tasting her on the late summer air once more.
But she escaped us.
The sun set to the west, streaking pink and purple through the sky as we flew high above the White Mountains. We caught sight of countless hikers setting up their camps for the night but none appeared like the vision her scent had brought to us. Nor did we feel the actual physical draw toward the one fate intended for us as my mother had promised I would someday experience.
After darkness fully fell, we returned home, my dragon disheartened and grumbling.
Inky darkness coated the land like a heavy blanket, but I stood in human form at the edge of my veranda. Breathing deeply, I hoped to fill my lungs with the hints of my fated mate’s scent once more.
