Scales of Desire

The leather-bound tome felt warm beneath Lyralei's fingertips, almost as if it were alive. She should have known better than to read aloud from a book that literally glowed in the restricted section of the Arcanum Library, but curiosity had always been her greatest weakness—and possibly her doom. The ancient words rolled off her tongue like honeyed wine, each syllable sending shivers down her spine. The candles in her private study flickered, casting dancing shadows across the walls lined with countless volumes of forgotten lore. "*Draconem ultimum convoco. Vincula sanguinis et ignis.*" The temperature in the room plummeted. Frost crept across the windows despite the summer heat outside. Lyralei's breath misted in the suddenly frigid air as the book grew almost unbearably hot in her hands. Then the world exploded. The explosion wasn't of fire or force, but of pure, raw magic that sent her stumbling backward. The book clattered to the floor as reality itself seemed to tear apart in the center of her study. Through the jagged rift stepped a figure that made her heart stutter to a complete stop. He was devastatingly beautiful in the way a storm is beautiful—terrible, magnificent, and utterly destructive. Midnight black hair fell to his shoulders, framing a face that belonged in the darkest of fairy tales. His eyes were molten gold with vertical pupils that marked him as something decidedly not human. Power radiated from him in waves that made her knees weak. "You dare summon me, little mortal?" His voice was smoke and sin, wrapping around her like silk bonds. Lyralei pressed her back against the bookshelf, acutely aware that she was alone in the library after hours, with no one to hear her scream. "I didn't mean—I was just reading—" "Reading." He took a step closer, and she caught his scent—smoke, spice, and something wild that made her pulse race. "Do you have any idea what you've done?" "Released you?" she ventured, proud that her voice only shook a little. His laugh was dark velvet. "Released me. How quaint." Those inhuman eyes swept over her, taking in her modest librarian attire—pencil skirt, white blouse, hair in a tidy bun. "You've bound us together, foolish girl. The spell you read—did you not wonder why it was locked away?" "Bound?" The word came out as barely a whisper. He moved with predatory grace, caging her against the shelves with his arms. This close, she could see the faint shimmer of scales along his neck, the way his canines were just a bit too sharp. "Blood and fire, little curator. You've awakened the last dragon and tied your life force to mine. Where you go, I follow. What you feel, I feel." His gaze dropped to her lips. "Everything." Lyralei's mind raced. She'd read about binding spells, of course, but they were theoretical, ancient magic that no longer existed in their modern world of diluted power. "That's impossible. Dragons have been extinct for five hundred years." "Extinct?" His thumb traced along her jaw, the touch sending liquid heat through her veins. "No, sweet Lyralei. Hidden. Sleeping. Waiting." He knew her name. Somehow, that small detail terrified her more than anything else. "And now you've gone and complicated things tremendously." "I'll find a way to undo it," she said quickly. "There must be a counter-spell—" "There is no undoing a blood and fire bond." His hand slid to the nape of her neck, fingers tangling in the hair escaped from her bun. "The only way it ends is when one of us dies. And I'm remarkably hard to kill." The implications crashed over her. She was magically bound to a creature she'd thought was myth, a being of immense power whose intentions were completely unknown. "What do you want from me?" His smile was sharp as a blade. "That remains to be seen. But first, we have more pressing concerns. Your little recitation didn't just wake me—it sent out a beacon to every power-hungry sorcerer and dragon hunter in existence. They'll come for us both now." "Dragon hunters still exist?" "Oh yes. The Scarlet Order has been waiting centuries for a dragon to surface. They'll want my heart for their rituals, my blood for their potions, my scales for their armor." His grip on her neck tightened possessively. "And they'll go through you to get to me." Fear and something else—something hot and unwelcome—coursed through her. "So what do we do?" "We run." He stepped back, and she immediately missed his warmth. "Gather what you need. We leave in ten minutes." "I can't just leave! I have a job, an apartment, a life—" His eyes flashed dangerously. "Your old life ended the moment you spoke those words. You can come with me willingly, or I can throw you over my shoulder and carry you out. Choose quickly." Lyralei glared at him, finding her backbone. "You're awfully high-handed for someone who owes me for freeing you." "I owe you nothing." But something flickered in those golden eyes—surprise, perhaps, that she dared to challenge him. "You didn't free me, little curator. You ensnared us both. Now move." She wanted to argue further, but the temperature in the room dropped another few degrees, and she could hear something in the distance—footsteps, perhaps, or worse. Self-preservation won out over stubbornness. "Five minutes," she negotiated, already moving toward her desk. "And then you explain everything." His dark chuckle followed her. "Brave little thing, aren't you? Very well. Five minutes. But know this—every second we waste increases the danger. And if you die, I'm trapped in this realm forever. So forgive me if I'm not feeling particularly patient." Lyralei grabbed her emergency kit—one of the benefits of working with volatile magical texts was always being prepared for disaster. Passport, cash, basic supplies, and a few personal items went into her leather satchel. On impulse, she grabbed the book that had started this mess. "Smart," Kaelen approved. "We'll need that." He was standing by the window, gazing out at the city lights below. In the moonlight, his profile was sharp as cut glass. "They're already here. Three blocks out and closing fast." "How can you tell?" "Dragon senses." He turned to her, and his eyes were now burning with an inner fire. "Time's up. Come here." She approached warily. "What are you—" He pulled her against his chest, one arm iron-hard around her waist. "Hold on tight and whatever you do, don't let go." "Why would I—OH MY GOD!" The window exploded outward as massive black wings erupted from Kaelen's back. Lyralei barely had time to wrap her arms around his neck before they were airborne, the city lights spinning dizzily below. She buried her face against his chest, feeling the rumble of his laughter. "Not afraid of an ancient dragon, but scared of heights?" "There's a difference between bravery and stupidity," she managed through clenched teeth. "And flying without a plane definitely falls into the second category." His grip on her tightened. "I won't let you fall, Lyralei. You're too valuable." "Because of the bond?" "Among other things." The words were nearly lost to the wind, but she caught them—and the thread of something that might have been desire. They flew for what felt like hours but was probably less than one. Lyralei forced herself to peek occasionally, catching glimpses of moonlight on black scales, feeling the powerful beat of wings that carried them through the night. When they finally descended, it was to a mansion hidden deep in the mountains, so perfectly integrated into the landscape it was nearly invisible. "Welcome to one of my many bolt holes," Kaelen said, setting her gently on her feet. His wings folded and disappeared, though she could still see the faint shimmer of scales along his skin. "We'll be safe here for a few days while we plan our next move." Lyralei's legs were shaky, but she managed to follow him inside. The interior was a study in dark elegance—all deep woods, stone, and shadows. "You live here?" "Sometimes. I have properties scattered across the globe. Immortality requires certain preparations." He moved to a bar in what appeared to be a living room and poured two glasses of something amber. "Drink. It'll help with the shock." She accepted the glass gratefully, the whiskey burning a pleasant path down her throat. "So. Immortal dragon. That's what you are?" "The last of my kind, yes." He settled into a leather chair with lethal grace. "We were hunted nearly to extinction during the Great Purge. I survived by sleeping, hiding my true nature, waiting." "For what?" His eyes found hers over the rim of his glass. "I used to think I was waiting for the world to forget, for it to be safe to be what I am again. Now..." He shrugged. "Perhaps I was waiting for a curious librarian to speak the old words." Heat that had nothing to do with the whiskey spread through her. "The bond. What exactly does it entail?" "Everything." The word hung between them, heavy with promise. "Your emotions, your physical sensations, your desires—I feel them all. And vice versa." As if to demonstrate, he traced a finger along his own palm. Lyralei gasped as she felt the phantom touch on her hand. "That's..." "Intimate? Invasive? Intense?" His smile was predatory. "Yes to all. Ancient magic rarely concerns itself with modern notions of privacy." "Can you read my thoughts too?" "No, thank the ancestors. That would drive us both mad. But I can feel what you're feeling right now." His voice dropped to a purr. "Fear. Excitement. And something else, something you're trying very hard to ignore." Lyralei set down her glass with a sharp click. "Don't." "Don't what? Acknowledge the attraction simmering between us? Mention how your pulse races when I look at you? Point out that the bond wouldn't have taken hold if there wasn't already a connection?" "We just met. I don't even know you." "No?" He rose fluid as smoke, prowling toward her. "Then let me enlighten you. My name is Kaelen Shadowmere. I'm approximately eight hundred years old, give or take a decade. I've toppled kingdoms, amassed fortunes, and survived every attempt to end my existence. I enjoy rare books, good whiskey, and beautiful women who challenge me. And right now, I'm fighting every instinct that demands I claim what the bond says is mine." Lyralei's back hit the wall. When had she started retreating? "I'm not yours." "Aren't you?" He braced his hands on either side of her head, his body a hair's breadth from hers. "Your body says otherwise. I can feel your desire like fire in my veins. The bond doesn't lie, Lyralei." "The bond is magical compulsion. It's not real." His laugh was dark honey. "Oh, sweet curator. Magic doesn't create something from nothing. It only amplifies what already exists." His head dipped, lips nearly brushing her ear. "Shall I tell you what I feel from you? The way your body aches for my touch? The heat pooling low in your belly? The way you're fighting not to reach for me?" "Stop." But the word came out breathless, unconvincing. "Make me." The challenge in his voice was unmistakable. "Push me away. Tell me to leave you alone. Use that fire I can feel burning inside you." Instead, she did something that surprised them both—she fisted her hands in his shirt and pulled him down for a kiss that was all clash and hunger and pent-up desire. Kaelen made a sound that was almost a growl, his control shattering as he pressed her against the wall. The kiss was devastating, all heat and demand and centuries of experience focused on taking her apart. She gave as good as she got, nipping at his lower lip and earning another of those inhuman sounds. "Dangerous," he murmured against her mouth. "Do you have any idea what you're playing with?" "A morally questionable dragon with control issues?" She scraped her nails along his scalp, delighting in his shudder. "I'm a librarian, Kaelen. I've read all the stories. I know how this goes." "Do you?" His hands spanned her waist, thumbs stroking just beneath her ribs. "And how does it go, little scholar?" "The maiden gets seduced by the monster." She met his burning gaze steadily. "But maybe this maiden wants to do some seducing of her own." Something wild flashed in his eyes. "Careful what you wish for. Dragons don't love gently." "Good thing I'm not looking for gentle." The words shattered the last of his restraint. In one fluid motion, he lifted her, her legs wrapping instinctively around his waist as he carried her deeper into the house. She caught glimpses of artwork that belonged in museums, weapons that belonged in history books, but all she could focus on was the man—dragon—who held her like she was something precious and dangerous all at once. His bedroom was exactly what she'd expected—all dark colors and masculine elegance, dominated by a bed that could fit a small army. Or one dragon with his wings spread, her traitorous mind supplied. He set her on her feet beside the bed, his hands already working at the buttons of her blouse with nimble fingers. "Last chance to run, Lyralei." "From you? Never." She pushed his jacket off his shoulders, finally getting to explore the body she'd been pressed against during their flight. Smooth skin over hard muscle, with those tantalizing patches of scales that caught the light. "You're beautiful." "I'm a monster." But his voice was rough with want as her hands mapped his chest. "My monster." The possessive words surprised her, but they felt right. "Bound by blood and fire, remember?" He caught her hands, pressing them flat against his chest where she could feel his heartbeat—faster than human normal, running hot as the dragon fire in his veins. "Be very sure. Once I have you, I won't let you go. Dragons are possessive creatures, and the bond will only make it worse." "Kaelen?" She freed one hand to cup his jaw. "Stop talking." His kiss was answer enough, all consuming hunger and dark promise. Her clothes disappeared with efficient precision, and then she was bare before him, shivering not from cold but from the intensity of his gaze. "Exquisite." The word was reverent as his hands skimmed over her skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake. "Do you know how rare it is for someone to summon a dragon and survive? You're either very powerful or very lucky." "Maybe both," she gasped as his mouth found that sensitive spot where neck met shoulder. "Or maybe—oh—maybe fate has a sense of humor." His laugh vibrated against her skin. "Indeed." Then his mouth was traveling lower, mapping every curve and valley with lips and teeth and tongue until she was trembling with need. When he finally joined her on the bed, she was desperate for him, pride forgotten in the face of overwhelming desire. "Please," she whispered, not even sure what she was begging for. "Patience." But his control was fraying too, she could see it in the way his eyes flickered between gold and something more reptilian, the way scales rippled across his skin. "I need to be careful with you. If I lose control..." "I trust you." The words were simple but true. Despite everything—the danger, the bond, the impossibility of it all—she trusted this ancient being who could destroy her with a thought. Something in his expression softened. "Brave, foolish girl." Then he was kissing her again, and thought became impossible. When he finally slid inside her, it was with agonizing slowness, his body trembling with the effort of restraint. Lyralei gasped at the sensation—not just the physical fullness but the echo of it through their bond, feeling his pleasure mingled with her own until she couldn't tell where she ended and he began. "Can you feel it?" His voice was rough, inhuman at the edges. "How perfect you are? How you were made for this, for me?" She could only nod, overwhelmed by the dual sensations. Every movement sent pleasure ricocheting between them, building and amplifying until she was drowning in it. His thrusts grew harder, control slipping as she urged him on with nails and teeth and desperate pleas. "Mine," he growled, and she felt the word reverberate through the bond, sinking into her bones. "Say it." "Yours," she gasped, then because two could play that game— "And you're mine. My dragon." The possessive claim shattered the last of his control. His eyes went full dragon, scales erupting across his skin as his thrusts became almost brutal. But she met him stroke for stroke, reveling in the wildness of it, in the way the bond sang between them. When release crashed over her, it was with an intensity that whited out her vision. She felt Kaelen follow her over, his roar of completion definitely not human, wings manifesting to wrap around them both in a cocoon of midnight membrane and gleaming scales. They lay entwined in the aftermath, his wings still sheltering them from the world. Lyralei traced lazy patterns on his chest, fascinated by the way scales gave way to skin and back again. "That was..." "Intense? Overwhelming? Life-altering?" His voice was smug, but his hand was gentle as it stroked through her hair. "I was going to say unexpected, but those work too." She pressed a kiss to a patch of scales. "Is it always like that? With the bond?" "I don't know. I've never been bonded before." His admission surprised her. "Dragon matings are rare, and none have involved a human in recorded history. We're in uncharted territory." "Comforting." But she was smiling as she said it, feeling more alive than she had in years. "So what happens now?" "Now?" His wing shifted to reveal the window, where the first hints of dawn were breaking. "Now we rest. Tomorrow, we plan. The Scarlet Order won't give up just because we've disappeared. They'll hunt us to the ends of the earth." "Let them come." The fierce words surprised her, but she meant them. "I'm not giving you up. Not to them, not to anyone." His arms tightened around her. "Such a fierce little librarian. Perhaps there's dragon in your bloodline after all." "Or perhaps you bring it out in me." "Perhaps I do." He pressed a kiss to her crown. "Sleep now. Tomorrow, we start your training." "Training?" "You're bonded to a dragon, sweet Lyralei. That comes with certain... advantages. And responsibilities. But for now, rest." She wanted to ask more questions, but exhaustion was pulling at her. Safe in the circle of his arms and wings, she let sleep take her. * * * The next weeks passed in a blur of training, travel, and earth-shattering sex. Kaelen was a demanding teacher, pushing her to access the power that the bond had awakened. She learned to sense danger, to pull on his strength when needed, to shield her mind from magical intrusion. She also learned that dragon stamina was no joke, and that the bond's intensity didn't diminish with familiarity. They moved constantly, never staying in one place more than a few days. From the mountain mansion to a penthouse in Hong Kong, from a villa in Tuscany to a hidden cottage in Iceland. Each location held memories of Kaelen's long life, and gradually, he shared them with her. She learned of the Great Purge, when dragons and humans had turned on each other in an orgy of destruction. She heard tales of the ancient days when dragons flew freely and magic was strong. She discovered that her grumpy, possessive dragon had a weakness for poetry and could recite entire epics in languages long dead. But the Scarlet Order was always one step behind, their hunters growing bolder with each encounter. They'd had three close calls already, escaping by margins that grew slimmer each time. "We can't keep running forever," Lyralei said one evening. They were in Prague, watching the sunset from the rooftop of a building older than most countries. "They're getting better at tracking us." Kaelen's jaw tightened. He'd been more on edge lately, the hunter becoming the hunted clearly grating on his draconic pride. "I know." "So what do we do?" "We could separate." The words were carefully neutral. "The bond has a range. If you stayed hidden while I led them away—" "No." The refusal was immediate and absolute. "Don't even think about it." "Lyralei—" "No." She turned to face him fully. "We're stronger together. You know this. And I'm not some damsel you need to protect. I've been practicing." His smile was rueful. "Yes, you've become quite adept at setting things on fire." She'd discovered her affinity for flame magic early in their training—a side effect of the bond, Kaelen theorized. Dragon fire answered her call now, though her control still needed work. Hence the slightly singed curtains in their last safe house. "I'm getting better," she defended. "Besides, I have an idea." His eyes narrowed. "Why do I have a feeling I'm not going to like this idea?" "Because you have control issues and a protective streak a mile wide?" She softened the words with a kiss. "But hear me out. What if we stop running? What if we choose the ground and make them come to us?" "A trap." "Exactly. We've been playing defense. Maybe it's time to go on the offensive." He was quiet for a long moment, considering. "It's dangerous." "Everything about our life is dangerous." She gestured between them. "Magical bond to the last dragon? Not exactly safe." "The Order has resources we don't fully understand. Weapons designed to kill dragons, binding spells, power dampeners—" "And we have something they don't expect." She took his hand, threading their fingers together. "We have each other. The bond makes us stronger. You said it yourself—dragon pairs who were truly mated were nearly invincible." "Nearly being the operative word." But his thumb stroked over her knuckles, betraying his softening. "What did you have in mind?" "The book." She'd been studying it whenever they had downtime, working through the ancient text with growing understanding. "There's more in there than just the summoning spell. I found references to something called the Sanctuary of Stars. A place of power where dragons used to gather." Kaelen went very still. "That's a myth." "So were you, until two months ago." She squeezed his hand. "What if it's not? What if we could find it?" "Even if it exists, the Sanctuary was lost centuries before my time. And it would be warded, protected—" "By dragon magic. Which you have. Which we have." She could see him wavering. "Kaelen, we need somewhere safe. Somewhere to make a real stand. Unless you want to spend the next century running?" A muscle ticked in his jaw. Dragons, she'd learned, did not run. It went against every instinct he possessed. "Show me what you found." They spent the next hours poring over the ancient tome, cross-referencing with texts Kaelen procured through means she didn't ask about. By dawn, they had a tentative location—a mountain range in the Carpathians, where old magic still lingered. "If we're wrong..." Kaelen warned. "Then we're no worse off than we are now." Lyralei closed the book carefully. "But if we're right, we might have found a solution to our problem." He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly. "Have I mentioned that you're terrifyingly brilliant?" "Not today." "Terrible oversight." He kissed her thoroughly, the kind of kiss that usually led to them destroying furniture. But this time he pulled back, eyes serious. "If we do this, we do it together. No heroic sacrifices, no noble gestures. Promise me." "I promise." She sealed it with another kiss. "Partners?" "Always." * * * The Carpathian Mountains were shrouded in mist when they arrived three days later. Lyralei could feel the magic in the air, ancient and wild, making her skin prickle with awareness. "It's here," she breathed. "I can feel it." Kaelen's hand tightened on hers. He'd been on edge since they'd entered Romania, some combination of protective instincts and dragon territorial behavior that had him snapping at shadows. "Stay close. Old wards can be... unpredictable." They climbed for hours, following paths that seemed to exist only when they looked for them. More than once, Lyralei could have sworn the mountain itself was testing them, throwing up obstacles that required both dragon strength and human ingenuity to overcome. Finally, as the sun began to set, they crested a ridge and saw it. The Sanctuary of Stars was carved into the living mountain, a vast complex of halls and chambers that seemed to glow with inner light. Dragon script covered every surface, and the air hummed with power that made Lyralei's bones sing. "By the ancestors," Kaelen whispered. "It's real." They approached cautiously, but the wards parted for them like silk. The bond, Lyralei realized. The magic recognized them as a mated pair and granted them entry. Inside was even more magnificent. Vast halls that could accommodate dragons in their true forms, libraries that made her fingers itch to explore, chambers filled with treasures beyond imagining. But what caught her attention was the central courtyard—a perfect circle of star-etched stone that thrummed with power. "A battle circle," Kaelen identified. "Where disputes were settled in the old days." "Perfect for a trap." His smile was all predator. "Indeed." They spent the next days preparing. Kaelen worked on the Sanctuary's defenses, awakening wards that had slumbered for centuries. Lyralei studied, finding spells and techniques in the ancient libraries that no human had seen in a thousand years. And at night, they came together with a desperation born of knowing that battle loomed. Every touch was precious, every moment stolen from an uncertain future. The bond between them had deepened beyond mere magic, becoming something that neither quite had words for. "I love you," Lyralei whispered one night, the words spilling out in the quiet darkness. Kaelen went still beneath her, then rolled them so he could see her face. "Say that again." "I love you." Stronger this time, more certain. "I know it's fast, and complicated by the bond, but—" He silenced her with a kiss that stole her breath and thought. When he pulled back, his eyes were molten gold. "I have lived eight centuries," he said roughly. "I have seen empires rise and fall, watched the world change beyond recognition. And in all that time, I have never felt what I feel for you." "Is that your version of 'I love you too'?" His laugh was soft. "I love you, Lyralei Moonwhisper. My fierce librarian, my unexpected salvation, my mate in all ways that matter." He punctuated each declaration with a kiss. "And when this is over, I intend to spend the next several centuries showing you exactly how much." "Promises, promises." "Dragon promises," he corrected, then proceeded to make good on them in ways that left her gasping and grateful for the Sanctuary's sound-dampening wards. * * * The Scarlet Order came at dawn on the seventh day. Lyralei felt them before she saw them, the bond granting her enhanced awareness. "They're here. Three dozen, maybe more." Kaelen's smile was all teeth. "Good. I was getting bored." They took their positions in the battle circle, watching as red-robed figures emerged from the mist. At their head was a woman with silver hair and cruel eyes, power crackling around her like lightning. "The last dragon," she called out. "And his pet human. How touching." "High Inquisitor Thorne," Kaelen identified quietly. "The Order's most powerful mage. This should be interesting." "Surrender now," Thorne continued, "and we might make your deaths quick." "Counter-offer," Lyralei called back, pleased when her voice didn't shake. "Leave now and we'll let you live." The Inquisitor's laugh was like breaking glass. "Brave words from a librarian playing with power she doesn't understand." "Oh, I understand perfectly." Lyralei stepped forward, feeling Kaelen's presence at her back. "I understand that you've spent centuries hunting beings more powerful than yourselves out of jealousy and fear. I understand that you use their blood and bones for your twisted magic because you lack the strength to generate your own. And I understand that you made a fatal mistake coming here." "And what mistake is that?" Lyralei smiled, feeling her own power rise in response to the Sanctuary's ancient magic. "You came to a dragon's lair. You threatened a dragon's mate. And you seem to have forgotten why humans used to fear the dark." She unleashed the fire then, dragon flame pouring from her hands in a torrent of gold and crimson. The Order scattered, their defensive shields buckling under the onslaught. Then Kaelen shifted, and the world trembled. In his true form, he was magnificent and terrible. Scales like polished obsidian, wings that blotted out the rising sun, eyes that burned with the fury of centuries. His roar shook the mountain itself. The battle was brutal but brief. The Order had come prepared for a dragon, but not for a dragon pair, and certainly not for a human who could wield dragon fire with growing precision. The Sanctuary's defenses activated, trapping the attackers in a web of ancient power. Still, Thorne was formidable. Her magic lashed out like whips of darkness, seeking weakness. One caught Lyralei across the ribs, sending her tumbling. Through the bond, she felt Kaelen's rage spike to murderous levels. "No!" she gasped, struggling to her feet. "I'm fine. Focus!" But the damage was done. In his fury, Kaelen had left himself open. Thorne's binding spell struck him squarely, dropping him from the sky with a crash that cracked stone. "Did you think you were the first dragon I've faced?" Thorne advanced on his fallen form, power building around her like a storm. "I've studied your kind for decades. I know every weakness, every—" She never finished. Lyralei's fire took her in the back, concentrated down to a blade of pure heat that punched through shields and flesh alike. The Inquisitor fell with a look of utter surprise. "You forgot about the mate," Lyralei said coldly. "Big mistake." The remaining Order members broke and ran. She let them go, rushing instead to Kaelen's side. The binding spell was already failing without Thorne to maintain it, and he shifted back to human form with a groan. "Show off," he muttered, but his eyes were warm with pride. "Says the dragon who went full wyrm in the first ten seconds." "I was making a statement." He sat up, wincing. "Are you hurt?" "Bruised but breathing." She helped him to his feet, then swayed as exhaustion hit. "Did we win?" "Oh yes." His arm wrapped around her waist, steadying her. "Word will spread. The Order will think twice before hunting us again." "Good." She leaned into his strength. "Can we go back to bed now?" His laugh rumbled through his chest. "Bloodthirsty and practical. Have I mentioned that I love you?" "Not in the last hour." "Unforgivable." He swept her up into his arms despite his own injuries. "Come, my fierce mate. Let's see what other treasures this Sanctuary holds." * * * EPILOGUE - One Year Later "You're going to be late for your own wedding." Lyralei looked up from the ancient text she was translating to find Kaelen leaning in the doorway of what had become her favorite room in the Sanctuary—a library that put her old workplace to shame. "I got distracted," she admitted, carefully marking her place. "Did you know there used to be dragon academies? Places where younglings learned to control their abilities?" "I did know that, yes." He crossed to her, devastating in formal wear that managed to make him look both civilized and dangerous. "Perhaps because I've been telling you stories about them for months." "Yes, but this has architectural plans. We could rebuild—" She stopped at his expression. "What?" "We. You said we." "Of course we." She stood, smoothing down her gown—a creation of midnight blue silk that complemented the scales he sometimes wore openly now. "Did you think I was planning to renovate ancient dragon strongholds by myself?" His hands settled on her waist, drawing her close. "Have I mentioned—" "That you love me? Daily. Sometimes hourly." But she was smiling as she said it, arms winding around his neck. "Are you sure about this? Marriage is a very human custom." "And you are very human." He pressed his forehead to hers. "I want to bind myself to you in every way possible. Dragon customs, human customs, any customs we can find." "Romantic dragon." But her throat was tight with emotion. "The guests will be waiting." "Let them wait." But he stepped back, offering his arm. "Though I suppose we shouldn't keep the other dragons waiting too long. They get cranky." That was the miracle of the past year. Once word spread that the Sanctuary was active again, that there was a mated pair in residence, other dragons had begun to emerge from hiding. Not many—their race was still perilously close to extinction—but enough to begin rebuilding. "It's not just dragons out there," Lyralei reminded him as they walked through halls now bright with life and purpose. "The magical community is watching. What we do here, what we build... it matters." "I know." He squeezed her hand. "No pressure or anything." They emerged into the courtyard where the ceremony would take place. The battle circle had been transformed with flowers and starlight, filled with an eclectic mix of guests. Dragons in human form mingled with mages, scholars, and even a few reformed Order members who had chosen reconciliation over revenge. "Ready?" Kaelen murmured. Lyralei looked up at him—her dragon, her mate, her future—and smiled. "With you? Always." As they stepped into the circle together, the Sanctuary's magic rose around them in blessing. The stars above seemed to pulse in rhythm with their hearts, and Lyralei could have sworn she heard the mountain itself humming in approval. It wasn't the ending to her story—it was just the beginning. And what a beginning it was. * * * Later, as the celebration continued around them, Kaelen pulled Lyralei onto a balcony overlooking the mountains. The bond between them hummed with contentment and love and promise. "Any regrets?" he asked. "About that night in the library?" "Only one." His expression turned serious. "What?" "I wish I'd found that book sooner." His laughter echoed across the peaks, rich and warm and utterly hers. "Bloodthirsty, brilliant, and mine." "Arrogant, ancient, and mine," she countered. "Forever?" "Forever." As he kissed her under the stars, scales glittering in the moonlight and magic singing in the air, Lyralei reflected that sometimes the best stories were the ones you never saw coming. A librarian and the last dragon—who would have thought? But then again, the best love stories were always a little bit impossible. And theirs was just beginning.