Chapter Twelve
Max lay there, not sleeping. The questions that Heather had asked should not have upset him so much; they were harmless. At least on the surface. She had no idea of what had happened when Luria had crossed into Dragon World and took his heart in a figurative way—and Heather also had no idea that Luria had tried to take his heart in a very literal way too.
Luria.
The beautiful and powerful human witch who’d wanted his heart, but not because she wanted his love. She had wanted to kill him and take his heart back to her world so she could dry it, turn it to powder, and use that powder in a spell that would see to it that she lived forever, and with great wealth and power on her side.
He should have known Luria was the evil wizard’s progeny. But time was different in this world, and he had forgotten that humans lived such short lives: that they spawned generations in the time it took a dragon to reach their flight stage.
He had also forgotten just how sly, how evil, and how greedy humans could be. That was something he should not have forgotten. He knew not all humans were like that—his own mother had been an example of what was right about humans after all—and so had many others who had either lived there and were now dead or who lived there now.
His mind wanted to turn away from those painful memories of Luria. Her betrayal had nearly killed him. In every way. She had broken his heart and hardened it as well. Her betrayal had made him turn away from love, and he knew that he was turning away from Heather right then too but he could do nothing to change that fact.
He could not trust. He would not trust her. For all he knew, she had powers; maybe she was hiding them deep in her skin to keep them from being seen. Perhaps she had seen that stupid profile on that app, something he still did not understand fully, and knew that Blake was a dragon, and had wanted to get to him in order to either gain entry to his world or to try to slaughter him and take his heart.
But if that was so, she was a damn good actress. Her horror in the first days of her arrival there had seemed so real, and so was her desire to go back to her own lands. His brow wrinkled as he looked down at her sleeping face. She wanted to go home; she said so all the time.
So even if she was not one who had powers and did not want to kill him, or any dragon that might provide a heart for her to use in spells, she also did not want to stay there in his world.
Either way, this was all a giant mistake and the best thing that he could do was leave her as soon as possible; right now, would be great. He was getting too comfortable with her, letting his guard down too often letting her see him as he did not let others see him—and all of those things were very dangerous for a lot of reasons.
The last time he had done that was with Luria, and look how that had turned out.
That he had some feelings for Heather was clear; he just was not clear on what they were. She was beautiful, and funny, and so smart. She was brave too, and she had something about her, some sort of thing that made her special, though he could not put his finger on just what it was.
He let his arm curl around her shoulders, and her head rest on his chest. The fall of her hair, sweetly scented and so soft, spread across his chest and he let his fingers trail through it, separating the strands one by one. She moaned softly and her body wriggled closer. His body gave off a hard pulse that he quieted by sheer will.
He should be doing anything but sleeping with Heather. She would leave soon and eventually he would have to marry, or at least mate. Most of the female dragons would not take his sleeping with a human well, and they might just shun him for it. Oh, they would not shun him forever. His was the bloodline of a king and Blake was forbidden to rule alone or have his children rule—and so if any dragon female wanted to be a full queen, it was him or nothing.
Eventually, a female dragon would want to mate with him even if he had slept with a human but they’d give him hell about it, and he’d have to live with that for a long time.
That he would be wanted for nothing more than his crown and place as a king made him hurt all over. The burden of that position often weighed him down, and so did the knowledge that he would never know, for sure, if he was loved for himself or his crown made things even worse. That was why he had avoided mating or wedding for so long now.
That and he was, at heart, a romantic who wanted that deep and abiding love that his parents had had for each other. He wanted a love that would stand the tests of time and death and everything that happened in between.
His body ached as he looked down at the sleeping Heather. There was something about her, a strange mixture of innocence and fragility and strength, that called to his heart.
