Out of everything she’d said, he’d pick up on that one. She sighed, absently tracing her thumb over the swirling design on the hilt of her dagger. “You know what I mean.”
“I know.” He gave her a slow, panty-wetting smile. Ugh, like she wasn’t already damp from their brief interlude, which he probably knew about with his heightened sense of smell. “All right, I’ll get Michael’s okay for it. Can’t have your brother thinking we inhabit a shack now, can we?” He laced their fingers and continued walking. “You need help with anything else?”
“No, I have everything covered. And thank you.” Relieved, she rubbed her cheek against his sweater-covered bicep. “I only hope Dec can find someone to officiate our marriage, or we’ll have to continue living in sin—” Darci broke off and frowned, glancing around.
Swoosh…swoosh.What is that sound?
Blaéz cursed.
Then she looked up. Her eyes widened, her fingers tightening around the dagger’s hilt.
A mammoth wing-shape blotted the weak sunlight and gloomy clouds, drawing closer, the color darker than night.
As the creature swooped in low, its enormous leathery extremities flapped once more, sending an icy gust of air sweeping through the young shrubs and over them.
Darci grabbed her flying hair. Blaéz growled, pulling her protectively within the shelter of his arms. The dragon landed a short distance from them, ebony scales rippling in a wave over its massive body as it tucked in its wings. Two deadly horns swept out from each temple. A row of serrated, silvertip black spikes ran from its head and down its spine, but the small wild shrubs concealed the rest of him.
“Who is that?” she whispered.
“Guardian trouble.”
Darci opened mouth then shut it, her questions forgotten, her gaze fixed on a creature most people believed a myth.
The dragon’s massive head swiveled toward them, a sinister smirk stretching its reptilian-like face, revealing a mouthful of dangerously sharp teeth. It snorted, emitting a powerful exhalation of hot air through its nostrils. Slitted eyes, glowing an eerie red, slid to Darci, lingered, and then returned to Blaéz.
Faster than a blink, his enormous form folded into itself and a tall male appeared. His hair gleamed like liquid silver against his bare, tan chest, the perfection broken only by an ebony streak near his forehead.
Darci gasped. “Wait, is that—?”
“Race. Indeed. Always with the dramatic entrance,” Blaéz muttered.
Another snort reached her as the elusive dragon Guardian cut through the shrubs, stepped on the gravelly path, and strolled toward them. Naked.
“For hellssake, put on some damn pants,” Blaéz snapped.
The warrior cocked a dark brow. Then a shrug followed. A pair of black pants appeared in his hand. He stopped and pulled on the cotton slacks.
At her mate’s annoyed expression, Darci bit her lower lip, struggling not to smile. Race was drop-dead stunning for sure, but he wasn’t Blaéz. No one was.
* * *
Blaéz bolted down his irritation and shot the warrior a hard stare, which was totally wasted on him since he didn’t look up. “What are you doing here?”
Still silent, Race tied the strings on his pants. He didn’t talk…much. Had to be the dragon in him. That alter-ego bastard practically reeked of wildness and solitude.
He looked up and angled his silver head thoughtfully. “I find I’m somewhat curious as to why you’d choose a lifetime of hell. Again…”
“So, you flew across the continents to get your answer?” Blaéz asked, tone droll.
“And I find thathellis beautiful.” Race’s gaze slid back to Darci.
At the blush streaking her cheeks, Blaéz wanted to punch him. For someone who shunned the living, even interacting with the Guardians unless he had to, Race was a bloody contradiction today.
“Save it, dragon. This is my mate, Darci. Race is another Guardian,” he told her. “Ignore whatever he says. We do.”
She smiled. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Your dragon’s incredible.”
“Well, now…” Race’s deep red irises brightened, his provoking expression changing into one of sudden interest. “She is something…”
