Page 12 of Drawn By Dragonblood
I pulled up abruptly as a stone patio opened in front of us. A wall of glass, sliding doors and reflective windows lay beyond, reaching up the rock face.
My jaw dropped.
Elijah’s house was actually a cave. A gorgeous, what must have cost millions to create, house in the side of a mountain one would miss unless they’d taken the exact path we had. His home was like something out of Middle Earth but much bigger than anything a hobbit would need.
I couldn’t see through the dark glass, and as my head tilted back, my gaze scanning the rock cliff, I noted a few other windows set in stone, a couple with small wrought-iron balconies attached.
“Holy shit,” Jon said from behind me, echoing my exact thought.
I murmured a similar sentiment, eyes wide and still drinking in the striking beauty that promised safety and comfort regardless of being crafted from cold stone.
Elijah moved toward one of the sliders. Atop, etched in granite, lay writing unlike anything I’d ever seen.
“Welcome,” he said, sliding one door open and revealing a sunken living room and dimly lit kitchen beyond. A classical tune played softly from somewhere inside, strings filled with sadness. The notes stroked over my emotions, thickening my throat.
I stumbled forward without hesitation, unable to withstand the draw of that imaginary cinch between me and Elijah, Jon close on my heels.
Rather than reaching for me as I half-expected, our host stepped back, allowing us entry.
I stepped into dry warmth that carried Elijah’s alluring scent that hinted of fire and a sweet spice similar to cinnamon. My feet abruptly halted, jaw dropping while gazing at the high rock ceiling and the cut-in-stone stairs winding up the right side of the massive cavern. Two stairs directly ahead led down into the living room with its massive fireplace on the far wall.
“Sybil, music off,” Elijah said from behind my left, and immediately, the haunting melody cut out, leaving us in near silence.
“Your home is beautiful,” I said, my gaze flitting to the kitchen with its top-end appliances and vast counter space.
“Thank you.” Elijah whispered words close to my ear, and I shivered as he grasped my backpack. “May I?”
I turned my head, our gazes colliding.
His pale eyes appeared to glow in the dim light coming from who the hell knew where. My breath hitched, my pulse once more thrumming over his nearness.
Swallowing, I nodded and shrugged the straps off my arms, my focus flitting behind me to Jon, who pulled the slider shut while watching Elijah’s every move.
Rather than scowling, he stared at our host with blatant hunger on his face I was well acquainted with.
The closeness of the three of us made itself known when I realized I could feel the heat of both of their bodies.
I should have been itching to run, insisting on leaving this strangeness that had tilted my world off its axis, but nothing about Elijah or his home raised internal alarms. That undeniable energy among us hummed through me with a deeper, richer intensity than when he’d first arrived in our camp. But it went far beyond mere lust for physical satisfaction, more along the lines of a sense of comfort, evoking a feeling of…
Home.
The word caressed my mind, and I studied the man who’d always been that for me.
Jon stood at complete ease as though unthreatened by Elijah and our surroundings. That hint of tension from his shoulders and mouth had vanished as they stared at each other.
Did he experience the same feelings of finding our place as I did? Why hadn’t our tiny apartment in New York ever offered us the same?
My husband blinked as though waking from a trance and turned toward me with a smile, bumping my elbow with his own. “Hell of a lot better than trudging through the rain, huh?”
I attempted a smile in response that wobbled. “Definitely.”
Jon slipped off his own pack but held it in his hands when Elijah didn’t set mine down.
“Come.” Elijah motioned toward the stairs with his free hand while moving away from us.
I was easily urged to follow his command—do whatever the hell he demanded.
“I’ll show you to a guest room where you can shower. Would either of you care for coffee? Tea?” he asked, leading the way toward the winding stairs.
