“You’ll find that we dragons can be a surprisingly loving bunch, given the chance.”
He stood up and winked at her, giving her a glimpse of that bad boy charm she’d heard so much about. She had to say, she preferred the sweet smile more than the cocky smirk or the half-assed wink. “I’ll be seeing you, my Gem. And next time, please wear what I pick out for you. You wouldn’t want to hurt my feelings, now would you?”
And with that, the fuzzy warm feeling she’d been getting in the pit of her stomach disappeared in a puff of smoke right as the door slammed shut behind him.
Arrogant ass. If he thinks he can just tell me what to do, he’s sorely mistaken.
CHAPTER SIX
Devon
“Anything else, sir?” Jolly queried, hovering at the door that led back into the mansion. Devon pondered the question for a moment before shaking his head lightly.
“No, thank you. Just keep me posted on what she does. I’d rather not be caught unprepared because my soon to be wife got any ideas of what stunts to pull,” Devon said, excusing the servant. The dull-looking man nodded, skittering off as he was expected to. His family had served the Bluewings faithfully for many generations, and it was almost lost in the annals of time that Jolly and his kin had once served the Redblades – a history long gone and passed.
Devon sighed to himself as the door clicked shut, leaving him alone on the roof of the mansion. The stone-paved roof had been worn smooth by countless dragon feet over the centuries, acting both as a landing pad for the Bluewings as well as a meeting place for the council of Treasure Lane. Devon tucked his hands into his pockets, considering the flat stones under his feet and thinking of the countless meetings and harrowing decisions made on that very spot. He felt woefully unprepared for all of it.
Bluewings had been Head of Council for as long as anyone could remember, and of one thing Devon was sure – that line would not end with him. Redblades were waiting patiently for their turn, and though eons might seem a long time to wait for humans, it barely registered as a blip for dragons. Though they might die and their bones turn to ash, another dragon would be there to take their place, and ultimately, what mattered was the power and opportunities of the line, not the individual. He wished it wasn’t like that, but even he couldn’t ignore the call when it came.
He had to think of the Bluewing name and his kin, even if he didn’t want to. Oh, what he wouldn’t have given to not be the one tasked with this – for lack of a better word – burden. He’d known the day would come when his father would pass and it would be his turn to carry on the legacy, but a part of him had hoped that he’d be old, grey and too damn demented to miss having fun by then.
Still, it wasn’t all bad. There was Gemma, after all. His Gem. Thinking about her made his inner fire burn with a roar and his dragon stretch in that heat, anxious to know more of her. When she’d come to him, all sass and spite, his first reaction had been to punt her back out on her ample ass and have her send her little grievances to him in writing, so he may ignore them for an eternity or two. But, the moment he laid eyes on her, everything changed.
Immediately, his dragon knew. There was no doubt, it was her that he had been seeking. It’s just that, Devon hadn’t even known that he had been looking for anyone, let alone a honey-haired curvy beauty with an attitude that would make many a dragon cringe and back out of a fight.
He smiled at that visual, his little princess making a dragon cower with just the might of her anger. She was a treat, and he wasn’t entirely sure he knew what to do with her yet, but he was certain that he couldn’t let her go. Not before he figured out what he was going to do with the things troubling him – the need to marry, the fact that he had a town and a dragon council to run, the most pressing matter of making sure his hoard was safe, and so on, ad nauseam.
Surprisingly enough, the most important thing on his mind wasn’t on that list at all. He suddenly found himself in need of a mate, and that was something he had not been prepared for, especially when said mate was so adamant about not playing along with him.
A quiet voice inside of him assured him that things could be better – would be better. Even if he couldn’t see it just yet. Devon thumbed the slim chains of gold around his neck. It bothered him immensely that Gemma hadn’t accepted his offer, his gifts. Was the necklace he had left for her too simple? Did it not properly convey his newfound affection? Seeing her without a piece of his hoard on her made him ache with frustration.
How could he call her his when she wouldn’t accept that which meant the most to him, to any dragon? His lips thinned into a line. She was a difficult one. Any other woman would have been swooning in his arms, breathless with excitement at the possibility of being Devon Bluewing’s bride. Sure, perhaps a bit of surprise and initial shock was in order, but dragons above, the woman had already had a day to get used to it. He really couldn’t wait much longer. His dragon grumbled its approval.