Warriors of Wind and Ash (Merciless Dragons #2)

He turns around.

And my world comes alive.

My chest thrills as I stare at him, trying to comprehend what I’m seeing. The handsome tanned features, the dark eyes, the crisp jaw, the straight, elegant nose…

It’s Kyreagan.

He’s right here. Right in front of me, dressed like a human, with no claws or horns to indicate otherwise.

Kyreagan is here.

Kyreagan came to save me. He isn’t dead.

Thank the Maker, thank the Bone-Builder, thank whatever the fuck. Thank you, thank you.

He’s alive. I want to cry and shriek and laugh and dance in circles and kiss his beautiful somber face until it softens into a smile just for me.

Kyreagan, Kyreagan, Kyreagan.

He’s here. He cares. He looked for me, and he found me.

Fortunix didn’t tell the King that dragons can take human form, so Rahzien has no idea that the man standing in front of me is the dragon prince. It’s an effective disguise, but a fragile one that will dissolve if Kyreagan makes one mistake.

Shit, he’s in so much danger.

“Shall we… dance?” His voice is strained, and his eyes scorch mine, fervent with pain and anger and need and joy.

“We shall.” The two words are barely a breath. I can’t say anything else or I’ll cry, and I can’t do that, because we’re being watched. I need to stay calm and pretend he’s a stranger.

Trembling, I touch him. I guide his hands to my shoulder and waist. A tight sigh of desperate relief bursts from his lips as his fingers settle on my body. Like he couldn’t truly rest until he touched me again. I want to scream that I feel the same way. That I’ve been outside my skin, floating in some dreadful, dark place, and the heat of his palms is bringing me back. Securing me whole within myself.

I take the lead in the dance, because I have strength now. I think I would have found my courage on my own, eventually, but it’s so much easier with him here. Why did I ever think I could leave him? We were broken when we came into each other’s lives, so we fit our jagged edges together and healed as a new whole. The bones we share now are thicker and stronger than ever, and our scars match. Tearing us apart ruins us both.

As we dance, the crowd softens and blurs until there’s only the music, swelling and sinking, swirling and soaring. Kyreagan stumbles a bit at first, but then he gives himself to the melody and to me, and we flow, like wings on the wind, like notes on a page.

They’re watching us. I think I’ve kept my face stoic enough, and Kyreagan has, too, but our eyes—maybe our eyes have betrayed us. Maybe the bond knotted from his heart to mine is pulsing visibly in the air. Maybe the magnetic compulsion between us is tangible, tugging at everyone else like the inexorable currents of a whirlpool.

The music has stopped, so I bring us to a sudden halt, too. Everything I want to say piles onto my tongue—I can’t speak any of it in this room. He’s here, and yet we’re still trapped.

He cups the side of my neck, and I shiver with delight at the heat of his strong fingers. “Is it true?” he whispers, his lips barely moving. “If we go now—”

I give him the tiniest nod. “I’ll die.”

Agony fills his eyes. “Then this is good night.” He raises his voice to normal speaking volume. “I’ll claim my kiss and retire to my room.”

He leans in, heat pouring off him in angry waves. I can feel his entire body quaking with the effort of holding himself back. He touches his lips to mine and whispers, “Say the word and they all burn.”

“Kill him, and you kill me,” I breathe against his mouth. He growls low in his chest, a feral sound, and a fresh wave of heat surges from his body. Alarmed, I clutch the back of his neck to keep him close. “Promise you won’t turn. You’ll control yourself. Promise me.”

A throat clears nearby, and a high male voice says, “Excuse me, Prince Gildas, I believe you’ve had more than your fair share of the Princess’s time. I would like a turn.”

For a second I’m sure all is lost, that Kyreagan will transform and incinerate half the room. Which would doubtless end with him being shot full of bullets and dying at my feet.

The vision terrifies me, and I hiss out, “Obey me,” without really thinking.

Kyreagan straightens. His burning gaze never leaves mine. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

He steps back, and another lord takes his place. As I dance with my new partner, as he whirls me around and around, I look for Kyreagan, tracing his retreat to the doors, his exit from the ballroom.