“That is technically—”
“So not taking this would be doing a disservice to that, right?Andit would also fly in the face of your big-picture shrewd and wise approach to things, wouldn’t it?”
The corner of his mouth turned up. “You certainly are priceless.”
“Oh, I definitely am.”
He chuckled, and it had me laughing along with him.
“Why?” he asked me then. “Why offer me this?”
I pushed the rock into his hand. “You are really fucking rare. Somebody with power, influence, full command of your abilities, who’s seen and felt the suffering of persecution. Yet, somehow, you aren’t warped by it, you don’t let the trauma and terror of that twist you. You’re open-minded, empathetic, generous, curious, and rational. What happened to you… I’m sure it’s occurred to you that with your inherent vulnerability to sunlight, the threat of something like that happening will never be truly behind you, and I wouldn’t want that to—”
He grasped my hand. “It won’t.”
“Let this ease that concern, okay? So it doesn’t take root. The world needs more people like you. Not the opposite. Not like those attackers and all that fear melded with megalomania. Stuff like that often starts like this—the world turns the good into bad when certain circumstances and vulnerabilities collide.”
He stroked my fingers, sending a rush of heat through me. “We all come from what was before. We are all products of what the world used to be—that persecution, injustice, violence, and terror.From poison. It’s our responsibility after what those who’ve come before have fought and suffered for, to be better than that, to uphold what they’ve created now.” He smiled. “I swear to you that I won’t allow the poison in others to take root in me.” He eased the river rock from my grip entirely. “If it will put you at ease, I will accept your gift as you so wish.” His palm glowed briefly with his citrine power, then he locked the rockaway with his magic. “Thank you. This means a great deal to me.”
I smiled out at him.
“Now, do you wish to discuss the other reason you called me here?” he asked. “The way things… progressed during our sparring session earlier?”
“I think they speak for themselves, right?”
“Do they?”
I pushed off the couch and shook my head to myself. “Zayn thought I brought you here to fuck you. I’m sure that’s what all the gossip is saying right now too. Royals having a hot roll in the sack.”
“Your phrasing is…almostas crass as Zayn’s.”
He rose to his feet and walked to me, the intensity coming off him a lot to take.
His eyes morphed to their serpentine form, meaning the animal was right at the surface.
I could feel my dragon reacting too, and it was all I could do to prevent my talons from bursting forth, or a ferocious snarl of need from tearing from my throat.
My breath caught as he reached out and brushed his fingers along my cheek. “Your animal calls to mine. Dragon to Basilisk. Each time we come into contact, that spark of attraction we both felt when we first laid eyes on one another intensifies. After we introduced violence—a primal act—into the mix earlier, that has become undeniable and even—”
“Unbearable?”
“Indeed.”
It was too much then, and I grabbed his nape and jerked him down to me, crushing our mouths together.
Unlike what I was used to, mostly because of what I put out there when kissing, there wasn’t a violent explosion of fierce and wild passion.
No teeth gnashing, tongues lashing—none of that.
As I instinctively went to take it there, Vaxan slid his hand along my cheek, stilling me, and catching me off guard.
Our gazes clashed, then steadied, and burned into one another’s.
I couldn’t look away as he trailed his tongue sensually over my lips, before delving inside and moving with mine in the most erotic way I’d ever felt in my life.
It wasn’t volatile or out of control, but it had me entirely. It was absolutely all-consuming, just in a whole other sort of way.
Moans escaped me, and I fisted his tank, as I undulated against him.
