“I’ve been told.”
“And reckless.”
“Yup.”
His jaw works. His hands flex at his sides. For a moment, I think he’s going to argue. Then he exhales—a controlled release of breath that seems to cost him something.
“Drayke.”
“What?”
“My name.” He meets my gaze. “Drayke. And you’re right to be afraid of what’s out there. But you should be equally afraid of me.”
He turns and walks off the porch, disappearing into the tree line without looking back.
I watch him go, my heart still racing, my skin still tingling from his proximity.
Drayke.The name echoes in my mind.Guardian or monster? Protector or threat?
I close the door and lean against it, pressing my hand to my chest where my heart pounds against my ribs.
Whatever he is, he stepped between me and danger. Whatever he is, he came back to check on me.
And whatever he is, my body responds to him in ways I can’t control and don’t understand.
You should be equally afraid of me.
The warning lingers. But as I move back to the couch, Grandma’s journals spread around me, I realize something troubling.
I’m not afraid of him at all.
And that, more than anything, terrifies me.
THREE
DRAYKE
She doesn’t listen.
I told her to leave. Warned her about the dangers. Gave her every opportunity to walk away from this mountain and never look back.
Instead, she’s outside again. Exploring. Wandering through the forest with nothing but that hunting knife and her impossible stubbornness.
She’s going to get herself killed.
I track her from the ridgeline, staying downwind, keeping to the shadows between the pines. The afternoon sun slants through the canopy, painting everything gold. She moves with surprising grace for a human, picking her way over fallen logs and around dense undergrowth.
Her scent drifts up to me on the breeze. Wildflowers. Determination. That underlying note of fire that makes my dragon pace restlessly beneath my skin.
Closer,it demands.Need to be closer.
I ignore it. I’ve been ignoring it for two days now, ever since her car died on that mountain road and she walked straight into my territory. Two days of watching. Guarding. Fighting everyinstinct that screams at me to reveal myself, to claim her, to make her mine in every way that matters.
Two days of hell.
She stops at a clearing where wildflowers push through last year’s fallen leaves. Crouches down. Picks one and tucks it behind her ear with a small smile that does something uncomfortable to my chest.
Beautiful. Our mate is beautiful.
