Page 27 of Dragon My Crazy

When we finally broke apart, we were both breathing like we’d run a marathon, his forehead pressed against mine, and his breath ragged against my lips.

Emmett’s hands slid down to my waist, pulling me closer. “You know,” he murmured, his voice soft, “I think I could get used to this.”

Me, too.I thought to myself. And it was exactly what I was afraid of.

We stood there for a moment, just holding each other, the world around us fading into a blur of colors and sounds. Finally, he pulled back, his eyes looking more reptilian than usual.

“Ready to head back?”

Themorninglightspilledthrough the floor-to-ceiling windows, painting the room in the soft glow of dawn. I stretched under the covers, my muscles loose, my mind quiet. I’d slept well, without waking in the middle of the night, the way I could only do when I felt safe. It surprised me a little that I felt secure in such a new environment.

I sat up, rubbing my eyes. The castle was silent. Somewhere downstairs, the scent of coffee drifted up, and my brain perked up just a little from the smell alone. And beneath everything, I felt something else. Something warm, a like pulse, a second heartbeat.

Melly.

I could almost feel her calling to me.

The connection had been growing since I’d arrived, a thread I couldn’t see but felt all the same, anchored somewhere close to my heart. I’d told myself it was my imagination at first. Now I wasn’t so sure.

I dressed quickly, pulling on a soft tunic and leggings, and made my way to the playroom. The door was ajar, and when I pushedit open, I found Melly curled around the new stuffed dragon Natasha had helped pick out on our trip to town.

Luella sat in the armchair across the room, phone in hand, barely paying attention to the dragonlet. She looked up when I entered, and something cool flickered across her face before she smoothed it away.

“You’re up early,” she said. It wasn’t quite friendly.

“So are you.” I crossed to Melly anyway. The little dragon lifted her head when she saw me, golden eyes bright, and let out a happy chirp. I didn’t miss the way Luella’s mouth tightened at the sound.

“Morning, sweetheart,” I murmured, crouching down beside her.

She pressed her snout into my palm, then sat down on her haunches and reached up with stubby claws. Up! Up! It was the universal demand of every small child who’d rather be held than left on the floor. I scooped her into my arms, and she made a happy, gurgling sound that was far more baby than beast.

Luella was suddenly there, standing over me. “I have her schedule handled,” she said. “You don’t need to trouble yourself.”

“It’s no trouble.”

The look that crossed Luella’s face—there one moment, and gone in a flash, so fast I would’ve missed it if I hadn’t been looking right at her—was pure resentment. “I see you didn’t takemy warning seriously. I was trying to be helpful. But I guess Emmett has you so mesmerized you can’t think straight.” She shrugged. “It’ll be your jail cell.”

The thing was, Ihadbeen thinking about her warning. In fact, I hadn’t stopped thinking about it since we got back from the lake yesterday. The kiss had felt so real, and I swore I could feel his dragon right under the surface. That couldn’t be faked, could it?

And if it wasn’t fake? Then what did it mean? That I was his mate? No way! I was a grandmother! Surely his dragon would pick someone more suitable. Maybe Luella herself. She had a ton of magic too, and she was beautiful, thanks to the wizards choosing only to marry either the incredibly beautiful or magical, preferably both.

The only way I knew of that he could prove to me that I was his mate was to bathe me in his dragon’s flames. Only a dragon’s mate or egg can withstand their fire. Melly was probably young enough that his flames would still treat her like an egg, but as she grew older, Emmett’s flames would hurt her too.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” Luella quipped, reminding me that she was still there, being a thorn in my side.

Before I could reply, Luella’s phone buzzed. She glanced at it, and her whole posture shifted. “Fine, you get Melantha for now, but only because I have another job to do,” she said, already rising. She hesitated at the door, her gaze sliding to Melly, then back to me. “Don’t overexcite her. It makes nap time difficult.”

And then she was gone, leaving the playroom lighter.

Melly’s mood lightened too, and I felt it brightening like sunlight through a window.

We spent the next hour playing: stacking blocks, reading the new board books, and even attempting a simple wooden puzzle, which, as I’d expected, was a little too difficult for her age. She was using her claws now, her movements more deliberate, more careful. Eventually, she’d realize things were a lot easier with human hands and hopefully shift.

When I held up the chunky board book with the dragon on the cover, she pressed one tiny claw to the page and went very still, staring at the little painted creature like she was trying to puzzle out the resemblance. Then she huffed a curl of smoke and batted it away, thoroughly unimpressed.

“Critic,” I told her.

A flicker of warmth pulsed down that strange thread between us, and for half a second, I could have sworn I felt an echo of her contentment as if it were my own. With every passing minute, the bond tightened, a thread pulling taut in my chest.