What he had hoped to be just a fluke and a flurry of emotions clouding his judgment, had turned out to be so much more. He knew she was his, now more than ever. Seeing her at dinner, talking to her, being so close to her – it all confirmed what he should have already known. She was his mate. In a snap, all of his earlier forlorn sadness over good times lost was gone, replaced by a budding feeling he could only describe as anticipation, a curiosity for things to come.
Most of all, he wanted to know what she tasted like, what she felt like when she writhed in his arms, screaming out his name as he made her tumble over her peak of ecstasy time and time again. Every muscle in his body tensed at that visual. Yes, she would be his, and he would know how her silky smooth skin felt against his as he thrust into her, claiming her until neither of them could see or think straight. Frankly, he couldn’t wait. Gold Valley didn’t seem that bad of a place after all.
Devon looked up at the red-tipped mountains, making him think of Remington and his Cheshire grin. His mood soured as usual, and it took considerable effort to keep the rain clouds from forming above Gold Valley. It had been pouring rain for days, and he had to assume that the locals were somewhat annoyed with that. Devon’s blue eyes reflected the red sunset, and he let the clouds come, rolling across the sky in an endless, frantic flurry until the dim red glow was just an afterthought in a carnal scene of darkness.
It was a perfect replica of the feelings bustling up against one another inside of him. There was danger in the air, he could sense it. And for the life of him, he couldn’t seem to care. Not with something more pressing taking up all of his attention – not with Gemma there. He couldn’t rest before she was his, and he couldn’t focus before he was sure that she shared his need. And even he could see through the haze of desire forming in his mind that that could only spell trouble.
I wonder what Remington is plotting, he thought to himself absentmindedly, not giving it anywhere near the attention he should have, though he knew the other dragon would not simply wait until things were no longer his to manipulate. Much more pleasant thoughts took precedence, like what Gemma’s screams would sound like when he made her cum while her body was sprawled out on one of his piles of gold, hidden deep below the mansion.
He watched quietly as the rain started falling, the valley that had just been bathed in warm red hues now the sight of a torrential rainstorm, complete with rumbling thunder and flashes of lightning. Devon smiled, feeling the raindrops fall on him and drench him to the bone in a matter of seconds. Unlike most dragons, he didn’t mind the rain. It soothed him, if anything. People quipped that wherever he went, foul weather followed, but that was no coincidence.
While his father had been a patient, tolerant man, no doubt his edges smoothed out by the decades Gabriella had spent working hard on making him into the better man she knew he could be, Devon’s jagged edges and razor sharp fangs were still intact. He knew exactly what he was and did not yet plan to be changed by anything, not even a woman. But, as with all things in life, a dragon knew that change was inevitable.
And, if that change was brought on by his Gem, perhaps it wouldn’t be too bad. He could make her see that his instincts were right, and if she didn’t want to understand at first, well, he’d make her. It was only proper. She was his, after all – he’d decided so.
Devon stood, enjoying the cold droplets that etched tracks along his skin, until something caught his attention at the very edge of his vision. Movement in the darkness stirred him from his reverie, and Devon whipped his head to the side, his brows furrowing. When he recognized the shape, scurrying down the mountain hastily, his lips curled in a vicious snarl.
No, he thought simply with such certainty that his dragon echoed it immediately. Without thinking about it, his body twisted and contorted, elongating and bulging as his shift took him. Dark, blue-tipped slim scales started appearing on his cheeks and chin, rapidly moving down his neck and appearing on his arms. His jaw and nose fused into a frightful maw, teeth as thick as blades jutting out as his neck lengthened and his chest ripped wider.
Devon grew on the spot, wings sprouting from his back where his shoulder blades would have been, the leathery skin both tough and pliable. When his feet touched down, his change was complete, the dragon given full reign where normally the man ruled.
Immediately, he spread his wings and let out a roar that made the mansion tremble underneath his thick legs. Nails scraped at the stones as he lifted up and his golden eyes locked on Gemma, rushing down the mountain. Frustration and aggravation brimmed in him, making him burst downward and over her. He maneuvered carefully, knowing that one misplaced motion of his wings would send her falling into the ravine.