Billionaire Dragon's Bride(8)

It was quite unfair, really – no man should be allowed to have that kind of effect on a woman.

“You’re right, my Gem,” he said, his tone sugary sweet now. “There have been plenty of traditions that have been forgotten. Not least of which is the fact that I do have a right to the most beautiful woman of my choosing. You’ve given me a great idea, Gem.” Without missing a beat, he raised his fingers to her chin and trekked a line down over her neck, finally stopping at the very collar of her shirt. Gemma was rooted in place, her heart pounding wildly, and his touch leaving a scorched trail where it crossed her skin, sending sparks of desire scuttling through her.

“What idea?”

“It is time to bring the forgotten traditions back to life. And I’ve chosen you.” He took a deep breath, and his eyes fluttered closed, long lashes resting on his cheeks. Devon almost looked gentle that way, though Gemma was in no condition to notice anything good, kind or nice about him at that very moment.

“What!?” she shrieked, drawing a chuckle from the man. He withdrew his hand, licking his lips like he was about to eat her up as color rose to her cheeks, tinting them with an angry red.

“You heard me. I’ll give you one night to gather your things from your home, and I expect you back here tomorrow. We will have the wedding in two weeks. I’ll send a servant down to help you fetch your things. I’m sure we’ll be happy together, Gemma.” He turned to leave, seemingly unfazed by the righteous indignation etched across Gemma’s features.

Who the fuck does he think he is!?

“Wait! You can’t do that!” she gasped, indignation fighting with all-out fury in her. Devon stopped, only half-turning to face her.

“Really? Who’s going to stop me?” he asked, a smirk perched on his lips.

“Um,” she mumbled, startled. Could he really be that full of himself? Probably. Yup, he definitely could be just that full of himself. “You have no right to demand that of me. I don’t have to agree to that!”

He seemed to ponder that for a moment, his blue eyes glancing downwards before locking on hers again, ferocious and full of certainty.

“No, you don’t. But if you don’t want to play by the rules, then there’s really nothing stopping me from burning Gold Valley down to the ground, is there? I mean, if the village doesn’t want to adhere to its side of the bargain, then why should I, hmm? Of course, your decision is your own.” With that, he gave her a wink and spun around, heading out of the library as if he’d just told her something completely casual and common, instead of the fact that he was going to ruin her life. She was left in the library, sputtering and shocked.

But, she knew exactly, who he was and why he thought he could do something like that. He was a dragon, and a dragon always got what he wanted.





CHAPTER FOUR

Gemma



“I didn’t agree to any of this,” Gemma grumbled audibly, receiving little more than a bored sigh from the steely-faced servant that was tasked with helping her settle in. Devon had given her a big bedroom right next to his, complete with a walk-in closet and a bathroom the size of a small spa. As much as her inner princess wanted to swoon and giggle, her outer feminist was completely outraged and aggravated.

She’d stomped home the previous night, certain that it had all been a bad dream, and she’d wake up any moment, but found that to be just wishful thinking as Devon’s henchmen showed up the next morning.

When she’d told the story to her parents, her father had frowned and shrugged, and her mother had been brimming with joy. Apparently, in the land of dragonkin, parents could imagine a much worse fate for their only daughter than being married off to a dashing billionaire dragon with more power than most of the free world put together.

“Well, it is tradition. And he seems like a nice boy,” her mother had said, to which Gemma had found countless examples to show that he was in fact the opposite of a nice boy, and that they should be as outraged as she was. Gemma was met with shrugs, and her mother had helped her pack. Railing and moaning about how it was improper and immoral of a dragon to demand a woman to be given to him just because he wanted her fell on deaf ears, and from what Gemma could tell, every word from her just made her mother beam that much brighter.

She’d given up after her third attempt at making her mother see how completely ludicrous the whole thing was. It was all rather less dramatic than she’d expected. And now, there she was, on the highest floor of the Bluewing mansion, set up in a room more lavish than anything she could have imagined, and told to dress and be ready for dinner with Devon.