A few quick breaths and frantic glances later, she could let out a long sigh and relax slightly. The walls weren’t the foreboding maroon red and gold of the Redblade estate but the cool blues and silvers of her bedroom in Devon’s mansion. Despite herself, she smiled a little – the relief of knowing that she was home just so great. And that was what it was now, wasn’t it? Home.
She shifted her feet over the edge of the bed, letting her soles sink into the soft carpet. She wiggled her toes a little and stretched – that was all the time she gave herself to stir from her sleepy reverie. In her mind, Devon was still nowhere near well enough to be out and about, though she was sure he would disagree with her. Between her disappearance, him finding her, getting back to Devon’s house and then sleeping their dead men’s sleep for days on end, the whole ordeal had taken nearly a week.
Gemma was sure she’d slept twenty hours straight before the thought of nourishment or a shower had become compelling enough to make her stand from the bed. Devon hadn’t been much better. One of his servants had helped Gemma in cleaning his wounds, though the proud dragon insisted that he didn’t need any help. His magic would heal him. Gemma maintained that magic and antibiotics were not mutually exclusive, and he could suck it up and just deal with a bit of 21st century magic as well.
To her surprise, he hadn’t even fought her on it more than grumbling a few choice words. He must have been really tired.
Gemma grabbed a robe from a nearby chair to cover the tee and shorts she had been sleeping in and moved towards the door, the hushed voices still speaking right on the other side. With a frown on her face, she pulled the door open, finding Devon and a handsome green-eyed man exchanging pleasantries right outside. Immediately, she knew it must have been Cillian. She smiled brightly, and without a second thought, stepped closer to the towering, wide-shouldered man and hugged him tightly.
Gently, he returned the embrace before letting her go, his eyes twinkling with that familiar mirth she had seen in the dragon, now even warmer in person.
“Thank you for everything, Cillian,” she said, taking her place next to Devon, her hand quickly slipping into his palm. Cillian grinned in return, bowing his head ever so slightly.
“My pleasure, Gemma. I just came to let Devon know that there have been some changes in the Redblade fold, but I’m sure you’ll find out yourself when the wedding comes. Tomorrow, isn’t it?” Cillian queried, a knowing look on his face as he shifted his gaze to Devon.
Devon nodded, mirroring the smirk. Gemma had to wonder what all that was about, but she was getting used to constantly being just a little bit confused as to what was going on – damnable dragons and their mysterious ways. If they weren’t only so intoxicating to be around.
“Anything to worry about?” she asked.
“Not a thing. Nothing that we can’t handle, anyway,” Devon said, wrapping his arm around her. Devon was dressed in dark sweatpants and a gray tee, and to Gemma’s surprise, there was barely a mark left on him. He sported a wide, jagged scar on his wrist where Remington had clung to him, and she knew the scratched on his back and neck must not have been completely gone yet, but he seemed to have made an amazing recovery.
He must have noticed her looking at his scars, because he squeezed her a little, laying a protective kiss on her temple. It was something he did more and more now, and Gemma had to admit that she liked the feeling of it.
“Dragon magic. I told you,” he said, chuckling.
“One would imagine. What with the Goldplains twins camping out on your roof for three days now. If their magic couldn’t heal you, nothing could. I’m sure Gold Valley must be buzzing with gossip at the two golden dragons seemingly taking over the mansion. You better make an appearance soon, lest they worry,” Cillian said, grinning. Gemma looked up at Devon, her eyes riddled with questions.
“The twins have a gift. They’re healing dragons. When they’re around, everything’s just… better. That’s how I healed so quickly. And I thought they must have been here, I felt their presence. I will have to say my thanks to them. But I don’t think I was as bad as Remington…” Devon trailed off. Cillian’s happy grin disappeared, the man suddenly looking rather more somber.
“No, you were not. But you know how the Redblades are. They wouldn’t let the twins close. Remington’s brothers were adamant about handling it themselves. But he must still be alive. We haven’t heard the songs, and we’ve been listening.”
Devon nodded and reached out his hand for a shake. Cillian grabbed it but pulled the other man in for a bear hug, patting him on the back.