She might have been insolent to think that she was allowed to run from him, but he already knew that if she were to die, he would die right after her.
He skidded to the ground ahead of her, blocking the path down with his massive body. Steam rose from his nostrils, and his eyes blazed. If any of his enemies had seen him now, they would have fled immediately. But none of his enemies had Gemma’s courage.
“Get the fuck out of my way, you overgrown cockroach!”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Gemma
Gemma could barely see ahead of herself as she ran down the path, rain beating the dirt around her. She’d only brought a little pack with her essentials, and nothing more. Even the little blue suede box with the dragon stone still rested on her bedside table, though the sentiment to take it along had been almost overwhelming. Her heart ached as she crept through the mansion, careful not to draw any unwanted attention and making sure that Devon wasn’t anywhere in earshot.
She hadn’t expected to feel that way. Sure, he was a rampant asshole, and she’d never in a million years consider actually marrying him, holding hope to the very end that she could make him see reason, but there was something about him that made all her senses stand up and take notice. Maybe it was the way he carried himself or how he was so insurmountably sure of everything he did, but Gemma would have been lying if she’d said that there hadn’t been a very big part of her trying to convince her to stay.
But she couldn’t, could she?
No woman in her right mind would sit around waiting to be married off to some self-admiring jerk of a dragon if she could help it, right? These weren’t the middle ages anymore when a dragon could swoop down from the mountains, claim a virgin and live happily ever after with her. First of all, she was no virgin.
Secondly, she wasn’t big on being claimed. If a man wanted to be with her, it had to be something she wanted just as badly, and though her body was definitely screaming yes to the idea of sticking around with Devon for a while longer, her rational self was all over that.
Nope, no wedding, no engagement, no nothing. He could huff and puff all he wanted, but Gemma was sure he wasn’t pants on head retarded enough to set fire to his entire town of goldsmiths – the very people who brought in a large chunk of his admittedly vast fortune. Even dragons couldn’t be that irrational, could they?
The closer she had got to the front door, lurking around in the shadows and trying to make herself scarcer than a mouse, the more doubts she had had. It was almost physically painful, bearing the thought of putting distance between herself and Devon. It sounded silly, if not stupid when she voiced the thought to herself, but there it was, plain as day.
Stepping out the front door had been hell itself, but when it closed behind her, her legs took over while her mind still hemmed and hawed. The sudden rain came as a surprise, but it seemed oddly poetic that she should be facing the elements as well as her own insecurities when breaking Devon’s trust.
So, she ran. But apparently, she couldn’t run fast or far enough.
Devon landed right in front of her, his massive clawed feet throwing around dirt and rocks, and his wings creating gushes of air that threw more water in her face. Her heart just about stopped as she skidded to a halt, the dragon as big as a house in front of her. She’d never seen one up so close. While a dragon seemed massive up in the air, it was nothing compared to staring one down at close distance.
His golden eyes peered right through her, twinkling with eons of wisdom she couldn’t begin to fathom (and neither could he, she mused darkly).
The blue-black scales glinted even in the lack of light, the occasional lightning bolt in the distance casting a stark light hue across him. He was breathtaking, even more so as a dragon than he was as a man – something she’d briefly thought impossible.
Instead of fear, she felt aggravated, and secretly, a little bit relieved. The words that tumbled out of her mouth came far easier than she thought they would have, having expected a terrified screech instead of that fake bravado that spilled from her mouth. It was easy to be full of herself when every fiber of her being told her that he wouldn’t hurt her, not in a million years.
The dragon stared at her, his eyes slightly narrowed, and the steam that rose from his nostrils fading out quickly. He seemed to contemplate her for a moment before the shift took him, and Gemma’s heart jumped as he turned back into the cocky man she knew and tentatively loathed.
“No,” he yelled, stepping closer to her, his voice booming over the rain as his dragon’s had just moments ago.
She could still feel the tremor in the ground from that roar of his.