Page 52 of Dragon’s Rebel

Chapter 23

Rebel sat next to Thorne in his lair, listening to his hoard sing. The vibration made her uncomfortable, and something pointy was digging into her left hip. She guessed you had to have dragon hide to enjoy hanging out on a pile of gold.

Thorne lay back, stretching out. To Rebel’s surprise, the gold moved as he lay down on it, shifting and molding itself to cradle the contours of his body. He let out a deep sigh, like someone lying down on a soft, comfortable mattress when they were exhausted.

This was so unfair to him. He’d spent years—decades—protecting Portland and everyone in it. He’d taken the serum so he could keep doing it, and look what happened. His dragon had been stolen from him.

She couldn’t imagine what that must feel like. She’d lost her parents, and the pain of that was so bad she refused to go back and think about that night. Ever.

Thorne had been through that, too. And this must be even worse. Tears stung her eyes.

Fucking dragon. Making her feel things again. Making her care.

The dragon-scale bracelet vibrated with the gentle hum of Thorne’s hoard, making her antsy. She stood up, rubbing her wrist. She didn’t belong in here. The song felt wrong to her. She remembered Blaze talking about how the song of Zane’s hoard welcomed her in.

One more reason to believe she wasn’t the Destined Mate. Or the Keeper of the Seal.

For the first time, looking at Thorne lying there, she wished she was. She wished what she’d told Vyrkos was true—that Thorne was her mate, that she could commit to him and love him and just not look back, not look for a way out, not look ahead to when it all went wrong.

Because it would.

The bracelet grew warm, almost hot. So did a spot on her thigh, under the pocket of her cargo pants.

The dragon scales. She pulled the bag out of her pocket. It felt like the scales were moving inside the bag, like they were… alive.

a voice said in her mind.

No problem. She’d be happy to. They were freaking her out.

She went over to the wooden workbench near the fireplace. It had lots of tiny tools and spools of gold and silver wire, and piles of gemstones in little dishes like beads, and what looked like a forge, with molds and hammers and pliers and other things that she had no clue what they were.

There was also a cuff bracelet made of gold filigree. Rebel rubbed hers again. A mate to this one?

She glanced back at Thorne. His color was already better, and he looked more relaxed.

Rebel opened the bag of dragon scales and dumped them on the worktop. She almost expected them to attack her hand like little leeches or something, but they drifted out across the table like feathers, moving toward the other bracelet.

Then, as she watched in fascination, they burrowed their way into the gaps in the wire. All different shades of blue, shimmering in the light from the sconces on the wall.

In a few minutes, they were all gone—part of the bracelet. Rebel picked it up and turned it over.

The dragon scales had formed a design. Not a dolphin this time, but a pair of stylized dragon wings.

The hoard had given Thorne back his wings.

Rebel went over and sat down next to him. “Thorne?” she whispered.

There was only the sound of his deep, even breathing. He was asleep.

Rebel reached over and slid the bracelet onto his wrist. It molded to his arm, the way hers did. In his sleep, Thorne smiled.

The sight of that took her breath away. He was supernaturally gorgeous, with his unruly black hair and sculptured cheekbones. He had a little stubble on his cheeks, just enough to be sexy. As if he needed any help.

Her t-shirt was too tight on him, outlining his pecs and shoulders, his biceps stretching the sleeves. Her sweats clung to his muscular thighs.

But his face drew her gaze back to it. Long, dark lashes resting on his still too-pale cheeks. The tightness around his eyes still hadn’t relaxed.

He had the weight of the world on his shoulders. She knew what that felt like, when it was only the responsibility for taking care of her sister. His responsibility was so much more.