Page 1 of Mating Her Dragon

1

Sydney Kavanaugh woke up knowing something was wrong.

No screaming.

No Demon smashing through a wall. No Ancient Elf Sorceress with an agenda and a grudge. No Garrett fighting for his life three feet away while she tried to figure out which Spell wouldn't get him killed faster.

Nothing.

Just birds outside the window. The faint, buttery smell of something frying downstairs. And Garrett, breathing slow and even beside her, one heavy arm slung over her waist as if it had grown there.

Peace, Sydney had discovered, was suspicious as hell.

She lay very still, cataloging the quiet the way Kara had trained her to catalog danger– systematically, thoroughly, looking for the crack in the foundation of what appeared to be a nice, normal morning. Sunlight. Birds. Coffee. A floorboard creaking somewhere below as somebody at Two Wolves B&B started their day like it was a perfectly normal thing to do.

"You are staring at him again," Kara observed, her voice warm and lazy in the back of Sydney's mind. She was like a cat who'd found the one sunbeam in the room and had no intention of moving.

"I'm allowed," Sydney shot back.

"You have been allowed for quite some time now, my girl."

"Shut up, Kara."

But she couldn't stop looking. Couldn't stop cataloging this particular miracle in every breathtaking part. The steady rise and fall of Garrett's chest and the dark lashes resting against his cheekbones were wonderful. But the utter, boneless relaxation of a man who, for the first time in longer than either of them wanted to think about, didn't have anywhere to be, was one of the best things she’d ever experienced.

For so long, his breathing– his heartbeat, his consciousness, his soul– had been something she could lose. Something she'd almost lost, more than once, in ways that still visited her at three in the morning if she let them.

Now he was just asleep.

Beside her.

And he was safe.

Something in her chest– a knot the size of a basketball that had been clenched tight since her feet touched down in the Earthly Realm and survived the Great Goddess only knew how many near-death experiences– finally, quietly, let go.

"If you're going to keep staring," Garrett said, without opening his eyes, "you could at least tell me what you're thinking."

"You're supposed to be asleep."

"I'm a Dragon Guardsman, Special One. I don't sleep. I rest with tactical awareness."

"That's exactly the kind of thing a man who was definitely asleep two seconds ago would say."

One lavender eye cracked open. "What were you thinking?"

She should have said something honest. Something about how she'd spent half the night just listening to him breathe because she still couldn't quite believe she got to. Instead, what came out was, "I was wondering if you snore."

"I don't."

"That's exactly what a man who snores would say."

The look he gave her was pure, unimpressed Dragon. Then his arm tightened around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest, and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head that lingered a beat longer than usual. It wasn’t fear, not exactly.

She thought for a split second. No, Garrett wasn’t scared.

But he was something just close enough to it that she felt it through their Mating Bond. It was that instinct to hold on a little harder than necessary, living deep inside him. It was as if he had to prove to himself that she was still there.

She didn't call him on it. Mostly because she was doing the same damn thing.