Fire In His Chaos – Fireblood Dragon Read online Ruby Dixon

Categories Genre: Dragons, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors:
Advertisement1

Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86059 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
<<<<112129303132334151>93
Advertisement2


I’m scared of what’s going to happen when I get off my bike and accept whatever this thing is. So I keep riding, trying to suck up enough courage to confront the dragon.

We go for a while longer, me on my bike, the enormous dragon close behind me, until I spot an old bike rack at a destroyed shopping center. All right, close enough. I move my bike over to the trees and place it in the rack, then carefully pull the chain free and lock the wheel to the rack. I doubt any nomads are going to see my bike, but you never know. And in the After? A good, working bicycle is worth a hell of a lot more than a dozen cars.

After I lock the bike, I pause on the ground, pretending to rummage through my bag. I’m panting as I waste time, my skin prickling with utter awareness of the dragon. I’m afraid. Terrified, really. I keep thinking of Lord Azar’s words.

He’s not a dragon. He has a dragon form.

He thinks of you as his mate.

You have to bond with him.

I close my eyes and swallow hard, then zip my bag and set it down next to my bike. With a steeling breath, I turn to face the dragon. No more delaying.

14

JURIK

I croon at my female as she takes a few steps away from her metal legs. I am not entirely sure what the metal legs are, only that they smell like rust and when she sits on them, she is able to run fast and smooth…so they must be legs. She turns and faces me, her small body trembling, her chin raised in the air, defiant as any warrior.

My spirit aches with pride at the sight of her. Has any female ever looked so strong and proud? So fragile yet powerful? She is alone today, no males accompanying her, so I do not have to destroy any challengers for her affections.

She has come to me. The thought fills me with fierce pleasure, even though her fear scent coats the air. I do not like it, and I worry she is afraid of me for some strange reason. Have I not been respectful? Did I not bring food to her hive? When she gestured that she wished to keep running on her metal legs, did I not let her set the pace? What is with this fear?

Hot irritation flashes through me, bringing with it swirls of color and cascading, dissonant sound. I am tired of her fear. I want her arousal. I want her mating scent perfuming the air, not her terror. I take in a deep breath, fighting back a growl of frustration as the colors barge into my mind and take up residence as if they own it, as if they belong there—

The female steps forward again and makes a sharp sound in her throat.

That draws my attention, and the colors bleed away. The sounds that fill my ears with so much chaos die, too, and then there is nothing but the quiet thread of her voice in my ears. She makes sounds with her mouth, looking up at me, and then offers her small hand.

I try to touch her mind with mine. I am here. Your mate is here. There is no need to be afraid.

My attempts to reach her meet nothing at all, and it worries me. Has her mind been tampered with? Is that why we cannot connect? I lower my head, my eyes level with hers, and strain to touch her mind. I am here. I am here.

TIRED, Luminoura tells me. HUNGRY. TIRED.

Go back to sleep, I say to her. My words are not for you.

HUNGRY, Sallavatri agrees.

I fight back another surge of irritation. I have tried so hard to reach my female that I have woken the sleeping young. More color flares at the edges of my mind. You go back to sleep, too.

I do not want them listening as I claim my mate.

My female makes another musical sound with her mouth, trying to draw my attention. I focus on her, and the young minds fade away. So do the colors that threaten again, and all I see is her. She gazes up at me with dark eyes and lifts her hand up, indicating she wishes to touch my scales again.

Pleased at her bravery despite the reek of her fear-smell, I lean in to nuzzle her. She stiffens at my approach, but does not retreat, and I gently rumble to her, letting her know that she is safe with me. Females of my kind are fierce and attack at the slightest provocation, but this female is gentle. It is her gentleness that calls to me, I think, her calm that makes the discordant colors and sounds bleed away to silence.


Advertisement3

<<<<112129303132334151>93

Advertisement4