“Let me show you instead.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Devon
Devon was fairly certain he was holding his breath the entire way through the mansion. He kept a strong grip on Gemma’s hand, coiling his fingers between hers and reveling in the heat and lust that it sent tumbling through him. She rattled questions about where they were going and what he wanted to show her as he led her through the building, but he promptly ignored all of them.
He couldn’t speak – at least not until he got there. If he stopped to explain, he might not take her there, might not dare to show her the biggest secrets of the Bluewing family despite his infallible knowledge that she was the one.
One dark passageway turned into the next and then another and another as he broke through doors that had been standing for countless centuries. He knew the way by heart, but the deeper they got, the more confusing things must have got for Gemma, as the catacombs under the Bluewing mansion had left many a fool over the years stranded to die without finding a way out. As his heart constricted in his chest, he had to wonder if these catacombs would be his undoing as well.
It wasn’t something he was accustomed to feeling – a dragon rarely felt nervous. In life and in death, a dragon always knew that his purpose was to grow and protect the hoard, to become powerful, to continue the line. He’d never faltered when faced with possibilities for the first two, so it was like rain on a cloudless day to find that there was, in fact, something that could rattle him. And furthermore that something was a someone, and the most gorgeous creature he’d ever laid eyes on.
He squeezed Gemma’s hand a bit tighter as they reached a set of heavy doors, seemingly worn smooth with countless years, though faint markings and inscriptions could still be read on them.
The doors were locked but sprang open at his touch, recognizing their true master. It was the trek he made each day, sometimes more than once, but this was the first time he had taken someone along that wasn’t his kin. His dragon had taken notice but urged him on. It was the right thing to do. She was his mate, and she had to be made certain that he was in it for the long haul and with earnest intentions. What better way to do that than to show her his greatest weakness?
Past him would have scoffed at the thought – Devon Bluewing, having feelings for a curvy commoner without royal blood? The horror. He would have promptly punched past Devon in the face for that. He had been a fool.
“Just wait,” he told her, squeezing her hand encouragingly. Finally, they came to a wrought iron door that had turned black with flame and soot over the years. A few fire pits burned in the wide cavern, the ceiling impossibly high and the door reaching at least twenty by twenty feet – just big enough for a dragon to wedge through.
He stopped there and pulled Gemma up against him. She looked ravishing in that sapphire blue dress, her soft honey blonde hair falling gently on her shoulders and brushing at her neck, with the dragon earring clinging to her ear. The gesture of her wearing it was not lost on him. Perhaps it had been the last push he needed to bring her down here. He had to keep himself from letting his hands wander down her mouthwatering curves.
She didn’t struggle against him, and Devon heard her breath hitch as their bodies touched, bringing a smile to his lips. That’s how it had to be – her a bit weak in the knees, but just enough to tell him he had a chance, and him about to lose his self-control. Perhaps they both needed to unravel a bit before things could truly work out.
“Few humans have seen what I’m about to show you. The Bluewings never show their hoard to anyone but their mate. I told you I wouldn’t give you a ring . Instead, I’ll give you all the rings in the world. And anything else you can imagine. This isn’t something I do for show or for fun. I want to share everything I have with you, as hard as that may be to believe.”
Devon’s voice remained quiet and calm, with just the faintest hint of the dragon’s growl underneath it. He kept his hands on her hips, not pushing himself on her, but making sure that she listened, understood. He needed her to know that what he was saying came from his blackened heart, even if he couldn’t phrase it quite as well as he wished. It wasn’t like him to lose his eloquence, but Devon was quickly becoming accustomed to being surprised at the things Gemma made him do and say.
He suppressed a sigh, planting a small kiss on her forehead. His lips against her skin filled him with a maddening tingle. He wanted more – an emotion that had only been growing within him and was now an undeniable roar that was bursting at the seams.
Reluctantly, he let go of her and stepped back, turning towards the door. He spoke to the ancient Bluewing magic, letting the power of the ancients flow through him until the impossibly heavy doors swung inward with an agonizing sound, like a great giant being forced to move. The glimmer that burst out through the crack in the doors slowly increased to a blinding sheen. It immediately brought a smile to Devon’s lips.