I woke up with the sound of his breathing in my ears. Slow, steady, deep, with just the hint of a snore. I smiled, my eyes still closed.

I could learn to love snoring.

What time was it? How long had we been asleep? I had no way of knowing. But sleep had been what we’d both needed most after showering and eating.

And speaking with my mother, using the same video chat program Dallas and Owen used back home. We’d been alone that we might speak privately.

I’d confessed everything. Callie’s injury, her means of recovery.

The fact that I had somehow, some way, fallen in love with Dallas. “I’m sorry,” I’d choked out as emotion tightened my throat.

She’d remained silent for a long, heavy moment in which I’d imagined the worst. She would disown me, tell me not to return, curse me for defiling myself and my sister and our coven. She would blame me for allowing Callie’s injury.

I’d even been prepared to offer to stay away, if it made her happy.

“I’ve made a great many mistakes in my life,” she’d announced, speaking slowly and softly. “Mistakes which I believed were in the name of right. I cannot go back and erase them, but I can avoid making them again. That much I can do.”

I’d barely refrained from pinching myself to prove this wasn’t a dream. “Do you mean…”

“I mean I hold nothing against you,” she had smiled. “If you’re happy, so am I. I cannot lose two precious daughters. One was enough. I won’t lose you now, or Calliope.”

I stretched as gently as possible, trying to make sure I didn’t wake Dallas and his soft snores. It was a blessing indeed, having fallen asleep in his arms, curled up with my back to his front, the two of us falling into a profound slumber within moments of lying down. Being able to sleep, knowing my sister was well and we were safe.

And he loved me, and I loved him. How improbable. Life still possessed the power to surprise me, even after living for so long.

Not nearly as long as the dragon behind me, who murmured drowsily as he stirred to wakefulness. “What time is it?” he asked in a sleepy voice.

I smiled, now opening my eyes to the dark bedroom and the king-sized bed we shared. I could barely make out the shape of the pillow beneath my head. “I have no idea.”

“What day is it?”

“I don’t know that, either.” I snuggled against him, warm and content. “It’s almost a treat, is it not? Time might just as well have stood still, or a year might have passed. It matters nothing to us, right here and now. We are all that matters.”

“That’s the way it will always be, lass. I promise you that.” His lips brushed the side of my neck, bringing to life new awareness and a delightful buzzing sensation which started in my core and worked its way outward. My very toes tingled as I rolled onto my back with his arm still slung over me.

We’d been too exhausted to see to anything more than a few embraces before falling asleep, and the knowledge of what was to come—what had to come if we were to truly mate—made my heart race with excitement and nervousness all at once.

“You have nothing to fear from me,” he whispered, sensing my apprehensiveness, gently kissing me until my back arched of its own accord that our bodies might touch again and again. “I would never hurt you. I want nothing but to love you, and to claim you like the dragon needs.”

A delicious thrill ran through me at his words, at the thought of being taken by the dragon. Of being loved by him. I allowed myself to touch him, to indulge in his strength and heat and the chiseled muscles which defined his body. They flexed beneath my hands as he moved over me, and it wasn’t long before passion swept away rational thought entirely.

By the time I woke up again, I was more disoriented than ever. The bedsheets were a tangled mess all around us, pillows on the floor and the scent of sweat in the air. I had never known such satisfaction and intimacy and joy.

I could see his smile even in the darkness. He’d been watching me sleep. “Am I that entertaining?” I asked with a wry smile.

“Among other things, aye,” he chuckled, running his hand up and down my bare back. “Och, I merely liked to see you looking so peaceful for once. You ought to relax a bit more, have a little more fun in life. Always so serious.”

“I suppose you think you could teach me a thing or two about that?” I asked, arching one eyebrow, and he took this as an invitation to wrap me up in his arms and rain kisses down on my forehead, cheeks, mouth.

And it would be this way forever, I knew. No one had to tell me we were perfectly matched in every way. That was how fate had planned it, after all.

Who was I to argue with fate?

He was so warm—hot, even, just as I’d expect a dragon to be. It was like hugging hot stone, but that didn’t matter.

“I am the luckiest witch alive,” I whispered, melting against him. My body seemed to tingle in his arms, pressed against his unyielding chest. Nothing had ever felt so right. It scared me.

He lowered his head until his lips skimmed my forehead. “You’re shaking.”

“I know. Hold me, please.” I couldn’t be close enough to him. He made every part of me tremble with desire.

I kissed his cheek. The stubble there was rough against my lips.

He turned his head, and our lips made contact. A surge of electricity went straight through my body, almost making my hair stand on end. Something deep inside my soul called for him. This was what I needed. I needed his arms around me, his mouth moving against mine, his tongue claiming me. I sighed in relief, ready to give in.

His hands slid over my back. He was ever so gentle.

I knew this man’s power. I’d witnessed its effects. And yet, he was so very gentle.

He could’ve overwhelmed me and taken me any way he wanted to. He could’ve crushed me under his body. Instead, he was kind and sweet—but just under the surface, there was a roiling, seething river of passion that could’ve drowned me. He was careful not to let that happen.

Instead, he gathered me up in his arms and held me gently.

I wanted him, all of him, against all of me.

He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside before covering my body with his. The feeling of his skin against mine was satisfying, along with being able to run my hands over his smooth, firm, bulging arms and shoulders.

“You ready for this?” he rasped against my ear, then kissed his way down my jaw, to my chin, then even lower.

I tilted my head back and closed my eyes to revel in the passion and desire of his kisses.

“I do.”

It was all I could say and all I needed to say. Yes, I wanted him. I’d grown so tired of fighting against how much I wanted him and needed him, how everything had gotten better since he came into my life and not just because he protected me.

His hand traveled over my damp skin.

I raised one leg and hooked it around his to let him slide his fingers up my thigh until he caressed the curve of my derriere. I groaned, thrusting my hips up, wanting all the contact I could get.

My fingers tangled in his thick hair, pulling his head closer as his lips left a scorching trail along my chest, down between my breasts. I groaned, rolling my head back and forth.

He tugged at my nightie, pulling it off and he looked down at me. His eyes were half-lidded, full of deep desire. Craving for me. It was all for me. The heat building in my core, spreading between my thighs, growing hotter. He wanted me. One hand closed over my breast and fondled me while he dragged his tongue in slow circles around my other nipple. I cried out in relief and desperation. My body screamed in pleasure while begging for even more, more, everything he could give me. I arched my back, pressing my breast to his greedy lips. He sucked and licked and nibbled as I groaned and called his name.

He slid his hand over my stomach, making me squirm as he moved further south. His big, rough palm cupped my mound and pressed hard. I went wild—surprising myself with the passion that flowed through me—grinding against his hand, breathing in short pants as the hotness built and built. I felt his fingers slide into me while the heel of his hand continued that delicious pressure over my clit.

“Oh, Dallas!” I moaned, jerking my hips up and down in time with the rhythm of his fingers. He pumped them in and out while he set my skin on fire with his tongue, licking and flicking and sucking. I couldn’t stand it anymore, and I scraped my nails over his broad back as the pleasure got to be too much and I came with a shuddery scream.

He slowed but didn’t stop, still taking me with his fingers while my grinding slowed down, and I went still. The heat only lessened but didn’t go away, and I found myself writhing gently the longer he went. One of my hands deliberately brushed against the straining bulge in his boxers, and his groan made my muscles tighten around his fingers.

“Get rid of these,” I groaned, pulling at his boxers.

He rose to his knees, removing them. When he stretched out over me again, I opened my legs to take him between them and worked the pants over his butt, his thighs, his calves. I indulged myself in touching him everywhere, all over, digging my nails into his butt, running my nails over his legs and back as we kissed. I couldn’t believe how perfect he was. I pulled my mouth from his and kissed his neck, his shoulder, his chest. He arched his back and groaned when I clawed at him. I couldn’t believe the passion he unlocked in me, but I loved it. I wanted to feel it all the time, I wanted to feel alive and on fire.

His thick, rock-hard length was between us, and I wiggled against it a little to make him groan again. When I wrapped my fingers around him.

He gasped, then chuckled. “Careful. I don’t want this to end too quickly.”

I gave a few strokes anyway, just for the sake of listening to and seeing what it did to him. It gave me a pleasure that wasn’t purely physical, even though it made me wetter than before.

He lifted his body.

I braced myself. My heart raced with anticipation and desire raced through me. When he positioned himself over my waiting body, his heavy dick rested against me and practically made my mouth water. Yes, I wanted him. All of him. I spread my thighs as wide as I could to take him inside. The pressure of the head against my entrance was enough to make me moan.

He pushed forward and filled me inch by slow, delicious inch.

I accepted him, and pleasure already started to build to something bigger and better before he even sank his entire length.

“My God!” I gasped as I closed my eyes. It was like I had only been playing around before and was finally with a real man. I never knew it could feel so good. I finally got it.

He sighed as he pulled back, then pushed forward. I moved with him, letting him set the pace, showing him how much I loved feeling him inside me and on me and all over me. It was clear how much my excitement excited him—every moan, every gasp, every time I whispered his name or urged him for more, he rewarded me with stronger, deeper strokes.

Even so, he was gentle with me. I could tell he was barely holding himself back from letting go and really taking me the way his dragon side wanted to. Knowing he could do whatever he wanted was exciting—I imagined him ravishing me instead of being gentle and closed my eyes.

“So… amazing!” I gasped, and I abandoned myself to him.

“You’re amazing.” He lowered himself on his forearms, and our sweat-slick bodies slid against each other.

He grunted and panted, and I panted with him until we were completely in sync, louder and louder until we both went stiff.

He threw his head back and bit back a sound that I imagined could have been a dragon’s roar.

He rolled off to the side—but held an arm out to me so I could snuggle up next to him. I needed to. I had never imagined something could feel this way.

“That was incredible,” I whispered. I still had to catch my breath. I wondered if I ever would. I knew I would never get over him, that was for sure.

His arm tightened around my shoulders—but he was still gentle.

“You’ll never get a chance to get over me.”

With that thought, I drifted to sleep in the safest place in the world.

I woke up in the same place—his arms. His lips were pressed to my temple while his hand roamed over my skin, leaving behind tingling flesh.

Only a discreet knock at the door brought a halt to what might have turned into something much more.

“Dallas? Hecate?”

“It’s Iris,” I whispered, scrambling out of bed and hastily wrapping myself in a sheet. She sounded troubled. What if something went wrong with Callie while I was busy tearing the bed apart with Dallas?

I opened the door just a crack, wincing as the overhead lights of the corridor pierced my eyes. “What is it?” I asked, keenly aware of how I looked, running a self-conscious hand over my hair. It was a wild mess.

Iris cleared her throat, eyes pointed to the floor, but I thought I noticed a slight smile playing across her full mouth. “I’m sorry to bother you, but we’ve found something rather important.”

The book. I had almost entirely forgotten our reason for being there. “The runes?”

She nodded. “We need to see you. Both of you.”

I told her we’d be a few minutes and closed the door between us before leaning against it with a sigh. It looked as though our brief honeymoon of sorts was over.

Our clan and our coven needed us.

Keep reading for an excerpt from the next book in the series!