Page 11 of Saving Her Dragon

Grey had just cleared his throat and started tapping his glass to start another story. "And then there was the time we found that old pickup truck in the woods…"

"I am so sorry, Bro," Garrett interrupted softly, his voice thick with a yawn he couldn't entirely suppress. "I think I am going to turn in for the evening."

Pushing back his chair, he stood up and smiled. Ginnie gave him a maternal, understanding nod, and Carrick offered a lazy wave. He could tell that they understood how hard his body was working to repair itself.

Sydney stood and stepped close to him. Wrapping her arms gently around his neck, she got up on her tiptoes to press a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. "Go get some rest," she whispered, her eyes filled with nothing but tenderness. "I'll be up in a little bit."

Garrett murmured a quiet goodnight and turned to leave. His long strides were slow and steady as he headed up the stairs.

The bedroom was dark, insulated from the distant, muffled sound of laughter still drifting up from the kitchen. Garrett made quick work of getting undressed and crawled beneath the heavy quilt, sighing blissfully as his head sank deep into the soft pillow.

“Tomorrow is gonna be a good day,” he reassured the moonlit room. “I bet I remember something really good.”

And then, he was asleep almost before his eyes closed.

It was a total, pitch-black silence. There were no vivid nightmares of the underground tunnels. Leviathan was not roaring and tearing at his psyche. The suffocating whispers of the dark mages were absent from the corners of his mind. There was absolutely nothing.

For the first time since escaping the Abyss, Garrett slept without dreaming.

3

Moving Forward

Inhaling deeply, he sighed blissfully, “Damn, I love that woman.”

Every morning Garrett woke up to the scent of fresh coffee, and every morning he thanked the Heavens and the Universe for Sydney. That first whiff of nutty goodness was another step toward healing not only his body but also his heart and soul. The aroma was filled with the heavenly toasted scent of vanilla and caramel, and just a touch of brown sugar tickled the tip of his nose, it filled him with hope, and warmed him from the inside out.

Over the last few weeks, Garrett had come to associate that rich, dark aroma with an overwhelming sense of safety. It meant the night, and whatever shadows tried to cling to his mind while he slept, was officially over. It meant morning had arrived, bringing with it a quiet certainty that he was exactly where he was supposed to be.

Sliding into his jeans, he zipped the fly but left the button unfastened, knowing he would be back to shower, shave, and get dressed after having some coffee. Leaving the room, he padded down the stairs. The carpet covering the steps tickled his toes as he all but skipped to the kitchen.

Over the threshold, he couldn’t help but chuckle when he found a steaming mug of coffee on the counter. Picking it up, he wrapped both hands around the hand-painted ceramic cup and took the first sip.

“Mmmmm,” he sighed, propping his hip against the counter and looking at his lovely Mate.

Across the room, Sydney was moving around the stove, her blond curls up in what she called a messy bun. He smiled at the few stray curls framing her neck, knowing she hadn't realized they had escaped.

Glancing over her shoulder, she blew him a kiss and teased, “Well, hello there, Sleepyhead.”

“Sleepyhead?” He chuckled. “Can I help it if you get up with the chickens?”

“Correction…” She winked. “…before those blasted chickens who make a sport outta chasin’ me around the yard.” Shaking her head, she huffed, “They are evil, I tell ya’… Pure evil.”

“Ginnie’s chickens are evil?”

“Yes,” she declared, looking back to the stove. “They are.”

“Should I slay them for my Queen?” Garrett teased, reviving his Highland brogue and pretending he had a sword in his free hand. “I shall behead them for merely thinking about laying a single beak on my Mate.”

Completely turned around and laughing so hard that she was wheezing, her soft, melodic voice echoed gently in the back of his mind. “Look at him.”

Brushing a stray curl from her cheek, her thoughts went on, “He looks so much lighter today. He’s coming back to me, Kara. He’s really coming back.

“And you’re really projecting your thoughts,” the Dragon Queen, Drakara, with whom Sydney shared her soul, snickered.

Garrett didn’t startle. He simply smiled into the steam of his coffee, keeping his eyes fixed on his mug. He didn’t want to embarrass Sydney, especially since Kara had already alerted her, but since their Mating Bond had snapped into place, Sydney’s emotions occasionally came right to him, mainly when she was happy. It was like a radio station catching a clear signal.

He knew she didn’t realize it was happening, and he found a fierce, protective comfort in it. For so long, the voices in his head had been dark, dangerous, and trying to destroy him. Having Sydney there was a breath of fresh air and reassurance that he was worthy. She was his, and he was hers, and that made him blissfully happy.