Page 99 of Bride of the Black Dragon
The huge, powerful Drake that resides inside me—surely she can lend me some of her strength.
I reach deep—deeper than I ever have before. Past the fear…past the pain… past the girl I used to be.
I find the memory of flying—of soaring on silver wings through the clouds. Of fire in my lungs and strength in every muscle. I remember the feel of my scales and feathers. I feel the burn of the sun on my back…the pulse of my power.
Drake, I whisper in my mind. Lend me your strength again.
My other half—which is me but also somehow more than me—answers.
A pulse of molten heat floods my veins, and suddenly my hand is strong. I feel the metal bend under my grip, feel the black lock crumble like brittle, old cheese. I pull it and the hateful collar off with a gasp and toss them—no, hurl them—off the cliff.
The lock and collar spin through the air, black and gleaming, and vanish into the abyss.
“There,” I whisper fiercely. “The horrid thing is gone.”
But the restraining collar has done its damage. A red, angry bruise rings Xaren’s throat, leaving it raw and chafed. I can see where it’s rubbed him raw. And still he doesn’t wake.
“Xaren…” My voice breaks. “Please—come back to me.”
His breathing is easier now—less labored. But still, he’s trapped in silence.
I can’t stand it—can’t bear to see him hurt and unresponsive.
He healed you, a voice whispers in my memory. With his mouth. With his love.
Maybe I can do the same.
I lay him down gently, easing his head from my lap. Then I stretch out beside him on the golden rock, pressing my naked body to his side. The warmth of the stone surrounds us, like a loving hand.
I lean over him and press my lips to his throat.
The wound is hot…angry. I kiss it gently once and then again. Then I drag the flat of my tongue across Xaren’s bruised skin, the same way he licked me to heal my thighs after Dorian attacked me with the thorn switch.
I feel it then—the power—the connection.
The Drake inside me stirs again. She knows him—recognizes him. This is our mate.
And she wants to heal him too.
Magic tingles through my mouth, across my tongue, and down my spine. I move slowly, kissing each tender place…licking the rawness where the collar bit deepest. The skin begins to lose its angry hue beneath my touch. The swelling fades.
Xaren tastes like ash and salt and something uniquely him. My mate…my Dark Prince…my Dragon.
I make my way around his throat, licking and kissing each wound with thorough, tender care. And as I do, I feel him moving beneath me—his chest rising more strongly, his breath evening out.
I press one last kiss to the hollow of his throat, and then I hear it…a low, familiar rumble.
“Mmm, little dove…” His voice is hoarse and rasping—but there. “Your sweet mouth feels so good on me…” he murmurs.
I look up and see the recognition on his face—he’s back—he knows me!
Tears spring to my eyes and fall silently onto his skin. But for the first time in what feels like forever, they’re not tears of grief.
They’re tears of joy.
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ELAINA
