Page 61 of Red Dragon’s Flame

It was so intense that she felt overwhelmed with emotion and sensation—almost lost. But Mikah and the dragon were both talking to her, keeping her anchored. Precious. Treasure. The one we’ve been waiting for. Longed for, loved, treasured, adored.

He opened himself to her for the first time, sharing in her mind the long years of feeling alone—always thinking his brothers, and then the clan, and then the people of the kingdom were going to fill that hole, but they never quite did.

Watching his brothers get their mates.

Always being the one left out.

Meeting her online. The way he looked forward to talking to her, how she made a bright spot in his life that he held close in his heart.

The fear he’d felt when he thought she was in trouble, the terror when he found her nearly dead.

The relief and joy when his fire had saved her. His deep pleasure in being with her, the satisfaction in making sure she was okay, his need to do more. To make her happy. To care for her.

Not because she was helpless, but because it fulfilled something in him. Lending her his strength, watching hers grow.

She saw herself as he saw her—strong and brave and beautiful.

He was proud of her, she realized in astonishment.

And he was afraid.

Just like she was afraid he wouldn’t always be there to take care of her, he and the dragon were afraid she would leave them.

She felt their love like a tangible thing, wrapping around her like a blanket—and for the first time, she opened herself and let it in.

He was inside her, all around her, pouring his love into her with every thrust, every caress. He pulled her to the brink, and her walls came crashing down.

She loved him. She loved her dragon, her barbarian hero, her accountant. She let her love wash over him, and felt him open up inside like a flower who’d never seen the sun until now.

As they came together, flames roared all around them, the tips tinged with blue.

“I love you,” she whispered. “I’m sorry I lost my amulet tonight, and ran away.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” he said. “Here.”

He pulled his own necklace off, and slipped the chain over her head. “This will do the same thing. And more.”

She fingered the round pendant—a gold disk with a dragon on it. “But this is yours. You wear it all the time.”

“It’s—it was—the heart of my hoard. The very first piece. For a long time it was the only hoard I had.”

She’d learned a little bit about dragons and their hoards by now, and knew that wasn’t how they usually worked. “How come?”

He kissed the side of her neck. “Because we were slaves. Zak and Cazbek and me. They had to let us have hoards, because dragons get sick and die without one. But our hoards also give us power, so they couldn’t let us have whatever we wanted. We got these.”

He took the disk from her hand and laid it carefully on her heart. “Now we can have hoards, but these still mean the most to us. Zak’s mate has his, and I want you to have mine.”

That stunned her. “You want me to be your mate? I mean, your married mate? Like Maddie is with Zak, and Lucinda with Cazbek?”

“You are my mate,” he said. “My dragon chooses you. My hoard chooses you. I choose you. But you can’t accept the magic of the bond as long as you have the phoenix. I get that.”

She picked up the pendant again, felt its weight. “But what if I can’t ever?” Her eyes filled with tears.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “We still won’t ever want anyone but you. And you can wear the pendant. It won’t come off by itself, and you can’t lose it.”

She was still silent, overwhelmed, and doubt crossed his face. “Unless you don’t want it…”

She closed her hand quickly around it. “No way, Starthrower. No takebacks.” She kissed him softly and said more seriously, “I’d be honored to wear your pendant. The heart of your hoard.”