“That’s because we do,” Darial says without missing a beat, flashing her that devastating smile.
She laughs, leaning closer, fingers trailing along the edge of the table near Ronyn’s hand. “So which one of you is going to buy me a drink?”
Ronyn’s amber gaze lifts, sharp and glinting with danger. For a second, I think he’ll snarl. But he only shakes his head. “Go find someone else, sweetheart.”
Her laughter falters, and her cheeks flush withembarrassment. She glances at Darial, who says, “It's a tempting offer, but we're in a meeting.”. Then her gaze drifts to me as though she’s seeking confirmation. My silver eyes catch hers, and she stiffens. I don’t need to say a word to warn her she’s treading on dangerous ground. She retreats, heels clicking away, swallowed by the crowd.
Darial sighs theatrically. “You two ruin all my fun.”
“That girl couldn’t handle what you are,” Ronyn says flatly, pouring himself another measure of whiskey. “None of them can.”
Darial smirks. “You know the drill. Blindfold and handcuffs. Let them think our dicks are pierced, not just ridged like a fucking dinosaur’s back.” His grin flickers out as he says it. He hides his expression behind another swallow of whiskey.
We’ve all played that game out of desperation. Dragons have needs that burn hotter than any other species. But fucking a human woman, when I can't even let her see the truth that burns through my skin? The rise of scales, wings, and claws with every release? That became empty a long time ago.
I'm the anchor. The leader. The one who keeps them from tearing this fragile human world apart when instincts flare.
But even anchors corrode.
The goddess’s voice haunts me still. Her decree two centuries ago echoed across a battlefield littered with the blood of dragons, humans, and shifters. We'd won the war, and magic was suppressed again, but not without snuffing out the elemental who rose and would not be contained. The goddess shackled us that day and bound us to walk among mortals like shadows of what we once were,relegated to becoming controllers of magic in a world without.
A dragon’s life is empty without purpose and desolate without a mate.
I set my glass down hard, ready to cut Darial off before he convinces Ronyn to bet on which one of the other men the redhead will latch onto. That’s when it hits.
A heavy pulse.
It reverberates through my bones and the parts of me caged centuries ago snap open.
The whiskey in my glass shudders, trembling like the entire world has skipped a beat. My grip tightens on the table, claws threatening to burst from my skin. Heat surges, rising like magma under my flesh. My dragon roars awake in my chest.
Darial sits upright, his grin immediately gone. His pupils slit, flashing gold. “You feel that?”
Ronyn growls low, too animal for the suit he wears. His eyes blaze amber as his jaw flutters with tension. “It’s been over a century.”
“It shouldn’t be possible.” My voice is rough, and I force it lower, but the bar’s patrons are already glancing around restlessly, sensing something’s wrong, even if they don’t understand.
Magic.
Real, unchained magic, pulsing through the city like a dark heartbeat we can’t ignore.
And goddess help me, it calls to me, whispering around my heart.
I thought I’d buried this part of myself forever. The dragon inside me has been bound by oath and time. We thought we’d contained all the magic, but elementals can beborn at any time.
Tonight, that pulse of magic stirs my dragon and tempts him.
“She’s close,” Darial murmurs, his gaze fixed on the skyline glittering beyond the glass walls. His golden aura flickers barely suppressed.
“Close?” Ronyn’s snarl is as sharp as a bite. His hand flexes, claws half-revealed, the scent of smoke in the air.
“Don’t pretend you didn’t feel it,” Darial shoots back. “That was the first heartbeat. A magical awakening.”
I close my eyes, and for a breath, I let myself feel it. The pulse. It shivers through my body,callingto me.A beckoning in the dark. A reminder of what we once were before chains were wrapped around our nature.
Before the oath.
I open my eyes. “Finish your drinks.” My voice is gravelly. “We’re leaving.”
