Page 30 of Dragon’s Rebel

Tempest nodded. “I really am.” She touched Rebel gently on the arm, as if she were the one who needed to be comforted.

“Do you need me to look at any of those cuts?” Rebel was a champ at first aid and basic nursing. When she and Tempest had lived on the streets, they’d had no one else to turn to, and there wasn’t always a free clinic they could go to.

Tempest shook her head. “Tyr put some of his dragon healing potion on them, so I’m good.”

Rebel shook her head. “I can’t believe you took on Corwyn,” she said. “Are you insane?”

Tempest looked at Rebel, her liquid-silver gaze level. “It was happening, Reb,” she said. “What I drew in the book. It wouldn’t leave me alone. I had to fix it, or all the dragons would have died.”

A cold chill ran down Rebel’s spine, thinking how close they’d come. “You did good, little sis,” she said, enfolding Tempest in a hug. “You did great.”

“And now everything’s okay.”

Rebel searched her sister’s face and body language for any sign of another anxiety binge. There was nothing, but still…

“If you see anything about Thorne taking the serum—anything bad—will you tell me?”

Tempest’s face darkened. “Do you think he’s really going to take it? Even though it could kill his dragon?”

“I hope not,” Rebel said. “At least, not until Tyr has a chance to check it out.”

Tempest nodded. “He’s okay,” she said softly, touching Rebel’s arm.

Yeah. For now.

She made her way up to her room, thinking about Thorne. What was she going to do, if the serum really worked?

What if she really did have to fall in love with Thorne to find the Seal? It wasn’t like she could just decide to be in love.

Would it be enough to care about him? Spend some time with him?

Do a little naked boinking, as Tyr so elegantly put it?

She lay down on the huge soft bed. Here, alone in her room, she could admit that Thorne fascinated her. He was so intelligent. Born centuries ago, and yet he’d evolved enough to set up complex computer networks, to access licit and illicit networks all over the world.

He loved art and beautiful things, the way all dragons did. But then, he also loved gold. She didn’t understand how dragons could love gold itself, the actual substance.

To Rebel, wealth was security. She’d used the money she got from her jobs to buy Tempest’s store. Not just the retail premises, but there were two apartments above it as well. One Tempest lived in, and the other they were using to store stock at the moment. Eventually, they’d talked of expanding the two of them into one and fixing it up so Tempe could have a painting studio.

All Rebel’s money had always gone into making sure her sister was okay. The rest was salted away in offshore accounts. She only used enough for her basic needs.

Because she was determined there was never going to be a time that she and her sister were in danger of going hungry, of not having shelter, not having a safe place to stay.

Never again.

So what did gold mean to a dragon? What did it mean to Thorne?

If she mated with him, would he take care of her, the way she took care of Tempest? She couldn’t imagine it, couldn’t imagine him loving her as much as she loved her sister.

And that was the only reason to take that on. Love.

She fell asleep and dreamed about a sexy man with loneliness in his eyes, brooding in a cave full of gold.