Gemma didn’t want to get off. She watched him, bathed in the golden light of his treasure cave, completely sated and with that hazy look in his blue eyes that told her that he was as relaxed as he could ever be. She didn’t just see the billionaire dragon bastard she’d been seeing since moving in. There was softness there. Affection. Admiration even. The way he looked at her made her feel beautiful and valued.
Like someone who could make a difference in his life. Fighting back a rush of emotions, she slumped down on his body, resting her head on his chiseled chest. Immediately, his arms cradled her against him, his hand fisting in her honey hair.
“I think we’re going to have to come down here more often,” he said, grinning. She couldn’t have agreed more.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Devon
Devon’s life had certainly been on an upswing during the last few days. After the scorching hot session with Gemma in the caverns, he had been walking on cloud nine. Though everything wasn’t quite perfect yet (she still wouldn’t wear the things he gave her, and she’d taken the bracelet off as soon as they’d recovered from their little romp), at least she wasn’t avoiding his company anymore. She would join him for dinner, and he would seek her out daily in the library, stealing kisses when she least expected it and meeting only the most meager of defenses.
The way her tongue dipped into his mouth every time he went in for a kiss told him all he needed to know. He wasn’t in it alone anymore, and there was some comfort in that, even though there was still a long road ahead.
Each day that passed brought the gold moon closer – a fact that was certainly not lost on Devon Bluewing. Each night, he would take a long flight around the mountains and over Gold Valley in a desperate attempt to clear his thoughts, and each time, he would come up short. There was no getting over the fact that his immediate future loomed over him, as foreboding as it was promising. Yes, things were warming up between him and Gemma, but would she go through with the wedding voluntarily?
Or would he have to force her, driving a wedge between them again? And not only that, the other council members would doubtless want to witness the ceremony, so the pleasure and the pain wouldn’t even be a private affair.
His blood boiled at the thought of any of them even laying eyes on her. Until she was marked as his, anything could happen. This meant that he was constantly on high-alert, suspecting everything and anything of trying to ruin his budding happiness.
Devon could easily imagine himself ripping off the head of another dragon just because he thought to crack wise about his betrothed and how she hadn’t worn anything from his hoard yet. It made his stomach turn. Making Gemma Teeley do anything she didn’t expressly want to do wasn’t exactly an easy feat, even for a dragon with all the resources in the world.
So, it wasn’t any wonder that nothing but dread filled him when Jolly trundled into his study late one night, breathless and panting.
“What is it?” he asked, looking up from the draft of the rules of combat he was compiling to present to the council on his wedding day. His brows furrowed at the sight of the little man, so uncharacteristically out of sorts. Under his gaze, the servant straightened himself up, trying to look presentable but failing at it.
“Master Redblade is here, sir,” he said, his expression morose.
Fucking hell…
“Where is he? What does he want?” Devon asked, standing up and rushing out of the study with Jolly at his heels.
“He is on the roof, sir. And he didn’t oblige me with a reason.”
“Go stay with Gemma. I don’t want him anywhere near her,” Devon hissed through clenched teeth, receiving barely a nod in return from the servant as he skittered off quickly. For a passing moment, Devon thought he spotted a smirk on the man’s lips, but discarded it in favor of more pressing matters – like getting the fucking Redblade out of his house and away from his bride.
Devon ran through the mansion almost as fast as when Gemma called him. His heart pounded heavily, jealousy and rage broiling him from the inside out. He couldn’t stand the thought of another man near her when she still wasn’t entirely his. He couldn’t allow anything to happen to her. Those green eyes and pillowy lips were meant for him and him alone. Rationally, he knew that there was likely little to fear, but rationale didn’t work so well for his dragon, or his heart.
Devon took the steps to the roof three or four at a time, and when he burst through the door, his head was swimming with irritated thoughts and whispered threats. There, in the middle of the massive landing strip of a roof stood Remington Redblade, his huge wings partially outstretched, and his maw contorted in a bitter smirk, showing his long, deadly teeth.