“Gold Valley can barely deal with the old requirements set by your father. He knew that, which is why he hadn’t raised the amount for so long. We’re just barely coming out of the recession now, and the jewelry market is only beginning to bounce back from the hit it took, so I feel like it’s really unfair that you… “
“Stop,” he said, motioning at her like she was a gnat buzzing around in his peripheral vision.
Her words got stuck in her throat, and Gemma frowned. She hadn’t noticed before, but she was trembling a little. Not out of fear, but the adrenaline that coursed through her veins, knowing that she was standing in front of the man, whom she knew as the giant dragon, flying over her house. Just looking at him made her feel vertigo, thinking of him flying so high, his huge wings carrying him into the clouds, higher and higher… Gemma felt a bit woozy at that mental image.
She might have had a teensy, tiny, completely unnoticeable deathly fear of heights. Having a conversation with someone, who could take her into the stratosphere and then drop her to her death, was not something that soothed her phobia in any way, shape or form.
“How long has your family lived in Gold Valley?” he asked, turning his back to her and walking to one of the windows that provided a clear view of the valley. It was dark outside, and she could barely make out the flicker of lights down in the valley. One of those lights was her home.
“Six generations.”
“Good. Then your family was here when my grandfather Dominic still ruled, and they know that the Bluewing dragons have been nothing but protective of Gold Valley, and we would never ask for more than we know the town can provide. I remind you that it is only because of the protection of the Bluewing dragons that Gold Valley still stands,” he said, his words pointed as daggers.
“Does it really matter, which dragon lords over us – Greenplains, Redblades, Bluewings? You’re all the same,” Gemma snorted, crossing her arms over her chest. He whipped around, his eyes ablaze. Gemma got the feeling she’d just said something very wrong.
“The Bluewings are nothing like the Redblades,” he spat, venom in his words. “You best not think we are.”
“Is that a threat?” Gemma asked, raising a brow at the man. What the fuck are you doing, Gemma? Of course that’s a threat! Shut up! But of course she wasn’t going to shut up. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, and she could feel anger rushing through her. Dragon or no dragon, she wasn’t going to let him be a total prick.
She could almost see steam rising from him, and while the similarities with his dragon hadn’t been so obvious before, she could see it clear as day now. In the faint light that fell on him through the window of the soft-lit room, the shadows under his eyes and cheeks made him look severe and dangerous. His blue eyes flashed gold, and his nostrils flared. It was only for a fraction of a second, but right then and there, she knew exactly what he looked like as a dragon. It had been that obvious.
Instead of chilling her to the bone, as it would have any rational person, it just angered her further. Who the hell did he think he was, trying to intimidate her? Pfft, no overgrown lizard with wings was going to make her tremble!
“I have nothing to gain from threatening you,” he said, his voice level. His expression cleared, and he smirked once more, giving Gemma a look at that bad boy visage he had so carefully constructed for the public eye. “But I’m not going to lessen the demands on Gold Valley either. Most of the families have been here for more than five generations. If they wanted to leave, they would have by now.
By raising the demands, I’m making sure that the families who have something to contribute keep growing, and the ones that are simply dragging along leave. It’s tradition to ask for a bounty from the village in return for our patronage, and I am not about to change that.”
She fumed.
“You talk about tradition! What about some of the old traditions, huh? Gold Valley had to offer a sacrifice of the most beautiful girl in town every decade some generations ago. Are you going to bring that back too, seeing as you’re such a traditionalist? Or what about the ritual roof burnings, where every five years all the straw roofs were burnt down by the Bluewing elder? Or… Why are you looking at me like that?” Gemma asked, the look he gave her suddenly stopping her from rattling on about old and forgotten traditions that had been left to the side because they were no longer civil or reasonable.
He eyed her as if he’d just seen her for the first time, as if she was standing there in front of him without a stitch of clothes to cover her, naked underneath his gaze. The way he pierced right through her, made Gemma question whether it really was such a good idea to come confront the man. He walked back to her from the window, standing so close to her that she could inhale his musky scent with each breath. His foreboding presence made her core throb and her knees wobble.