Page 56 of Bride of the Black Dragon
The Drake loves me.
Not just with Xaren’s love—but with his own. His love is primal…ancient…boundless. He wants to keep me safe, to guard me, to wrap me in his wings and keep me warm and protected against every hurt in the world.
No one has ever felt this way for me before—not even my parents. For though they were loving enough when I was a child, they sold me to the Citadel when the Queen’s men came looking for a bride with the right bloodlines—the right coloring.
But I know that the Drake would never give me up—not for money or treasure, because I am a treasure to him—the greatest treasure that could ever be or ever has been. I am his beloved, just as I am Xaren’s beloved.
The thought comes to me again—he loves me.
My throat tightens and my vision blurs. Before I know it, I’m pressing both hands against his muzzle, then leaning forward, wrapping my arms around him as best I can. My embrace is pitifully small against his massive head, but he makes a low rumble in his chest that feels like a purr, vibrating through my body.
“Oh, you’re so sweet,” I whisper, tears slipping down my cheeks. “I care for you too—I love you too.”
The Drake exhales softly, a gust of air that lifts my hair and smells of spice and heat and open skies. He closes his eyes halfway, as though savoring my touch.
And that’s when I feel it—something stirring inside me.
Deep in my chest, something moves. Not my heart—something deeper. Something with wings. Something that feels like it’s been sleeping my whole life and is now beginning to wake.
What is this feeling?
It feels like sunlight under my skin. Like air filling my lungs for the first time. I can almost hear the rustle of scales beneath my flesh, the beating of wings inside my ribs.
Then I feel the Drake’s thoughts—not words, but pictures. Images flooding into my mind.
I see myself standing on his huge foreleg, my hand on his neck. Then climbing, placing one foot, then another, until I’m seated between the spines that run like a ridge down his back. I see his wings opening…the world falling away…and the two of us rising into endless sky.
I realize what he’s doing—he’s giving me an invitation.
“Do you want me to fly with you?” I ask aloud.
The answer comes instantly—not in words, but in a deep, throbbing sense of yes. A wave of joy and anticipation that feels like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. More images rise in my mind—the two of us soaring together…his wings cutting through clouds…his roar echoing across the mountains.
I bite my lip hard, staring up at him. His great golden eyes gleam, watching me, waiting for my answer.
Should I?
My heart flutters. I’ve never flown, before. But I’ve also never trusted anyone this completely. And somehow, I know if I say yes… my life will never be the same again.
28
ELAINA
Climbing onto the back of a dragon is not like mounting a horse.
For one thing, Xaren’s Drake is the size of a rich man’s mansion, if not larger. The sheer mass of him is breathtaking up close—a living mountain of obsidian-black scales that shimmer with hints of deep violet. He shifts his vast foreleg forward, bending it like a kneeling knight offering his hand. His claws are the size of sword blades, but the curve of his massive limb creates a kind of natural staircase.
I hesitate only a moment, then place my foot on the lowest section of his leg. His skin—his scales—are shockingly warm beneath the soft sole of my slipper. Not rough or jagged as I imagined, but silky-smooth and pliable, with just enough texture for grip. They move subtly under my weight, flexing with life. It’s like climbing a hill made of heated silk and muscle.
Above me, one pointed ear swivels back in my direction. The other follows a heartbeat later, like a horse checking for its rider.
“I’m fine,” I call softly, a little breathless from the climb. “Just trying to get settled.”
He doesn’t move—not an inch. His huge body remains perfectly still, his wing partially curled beside him like the edge of a massive obsidian fan. It's as if he's holding his breath, waiting for me to get settled.
I clamber carefully along his shoulder until I find what I saw in his vision—the natural dip at the base of his long neck between two of the tallest, thickest spines. It’s like a saddle—as if his body was shaped to carry someone here. To carry me.
Settling into the hollow, I let out a breath of relief—I made it!
