Bloodlust pumped hard and strong through my veins. Somehow, I’d managed not to kill him. If Jessen hadn’t stopped me, he’d be a ghost already. My dragon growled, wanting to tuck her safely in my lair, then hunt him again. Make sure he understood the true meaning of pain and suffering. He dared to hurt her. Choking was too swift, too easy a death. When I had flown back to the garden and found him on top of her, there had been no thought, only a veil of black and an undeniable need for my hands to wrap his throat and squeeze the life out of him.

I flew fast to get her to safety and to get out of killing range. I had to get far away from him, or the beast inside me would keep pushing me to return and finish him off. She cradled against me, pressing her cheek to my neck, her chest to my chest, her lips to my skin. Her fingers caressed the nape of my neck, soothing the beast, gentling him with her touch. So sweet. Long black waves of her hair whipped in the wind, her scent invading my senses. She tucked her head in the crook under my chin. It was…perfect.

I dove fast and winged onto my terrace with a jolt, too eager to smooth my landing. Brant had left my chamber door open as I’d asked. Of course, I hadn’t thought I’d be bringing Jessen home with me. She lifted her head as I carried her through the curtain screen into my bedchamber. Finally having her safe in my domain, sealed behind secure doors and alarms, I could breathe again. Barely.

I set her down and started a fire in the grate, trying to settle my nerves, needing to soothe her, unable to do so in my current state. After blowing flame to a pile of kindling, I tossed on two logs, the fire licking up with a crackle.

Wide-eyed, she examined the room. I scented her anxiety, which immediately gave me alarm. I followed her gaze to my bed, covered in the same black silk sheets she’d seen draped around her image in the portrait at the gallery. I froze, knowing full well what made her tremble. But I wasn’t a man of many words. Hell, I’d bungled this relationship from the beginning for holding my tongue or saying the wrong thing. I couldn’t speak of Grayson without wanting to do some sort of violence, though I’d never hurt her. Ever. She didn’t need to see that side of me, any more than she already had tonight. I tried to think of something to take both our minds away from the horror of tonight. Of what she’d been through.

“Would you like something to drink?” I asked softly, gesturing toward my bar across the room.

“I could use one,” she said with a tilted smile. “How about you?”

“I could use ten,” I answered honestly.

She laughed, and the sweet sound cooled the flames burning me on the inside. With a deep breath of relief that she was beginning to unwind, I strolled to the bar.

“Wine?” I asked.

“Yes. Please.”

She unbuckled the straps of her heels and settled on the large cushioned ottoman with her legs folded underneath her. As she seemed to relax, so did I. I hadn’t realized how tightly wound I’d been since that scene in the garden. I poured my tumbler of whiskey to the rim and rejoined her, passing her a full glass of dark, rich claret.

“Here.” I handed over her glass and settled in my leather chair, designed specifically with a narrow, flat back so it wouldn’t obstruct my wings if I wanted to recline.

She cupped the glass with both hands and sipped deeply. It was a strong wine, and I was glad to see the strain in her brow disappear with a big gulp. I took a deep swallow of my own, needing to mellow for a moment.

“Is it good?” I asked.

“Very.”

That sweet smile again. Almost shy. Not quite the young woman I knew. But then, there was that incident. I swallowed the rest of my whiskey in one shot. She stared at the fire, but still shivered. Her bare shoulders pebbled with a chill. Setting my glass on the mantel, I opened the trunk at the foot of my bed and pulled out a soft, white blanket. Moving with slow precision, I draped it around her shoulders, then resumed my place in the chair across from her.

What I wanted to do was haul her into my arms and kiss her senseless. Though I might be a beast, I wasn’t a monster. She suffered at the hands of Grayson. I wouldn’t frighten her or push my own needs on her, even if it felt as if a ball of razor-blades was tumbling around inside my chest and the only thing that could soothe it was her touch. Nothing mattered but her safety and peace of mind—on the inside and the out. I’d wait. As for Grayson, I wasn’t through with him yet.

“Tell me another story, Lucius.”

She stared into the fire, which cast a golden glow on her lovely pale skin and shone in her black hair. She could’ve been Queen Morga herself.“A story?”

She pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders with one hand, holding the glass of wine close with the other. Her gaze remained fixed on the fire.

“A good story.” She took a sip. “One of the heart. One with a happily ever after.”

Leaning forward, I clasped my hands loosely, resting elbows on my knees. “A love story then.”

“Yes.” Then she pierced me with those dark eyes that had haunted me constantly since that night at Acropolis. “A happy one.”

“Hmm,” I made a pretense at this being a difficult task. She laughed lightly. “I suppose I might know one of those.”

She sipped her wine, waiting patiently. She appeared to be shrouded in gold by the firelight, which reminded me of one story in particular.

“I think you might like a tale my great grandmother used to tell me. The one of The Vale of Stars.”

“The Vale of Stars? What is that?”

“It’s a magical place of beauty and treasure.”

She laughed, turning more toward me on the ottoman. “That’s a bit obscure.”

“It is.” I returned her teasing smile. “That’s because there are dozens of versions of the story with a dozen different ideas what the vale truly is. But I like my great grandmother’s version the best.”

“Let’s hear it then.” She shifted off of the cushion onto the thick rug and propped out her elbow, head in hand, balancing her wine on the ottoman.

Clearing my throat, I thought back to how it started.

“Once upon a time—”

“Oh, I love this already.”

“Are you going to let me tell the story or not?” I teased.

She mimed zipping her lips and grinned like a fiend before settling in again with a contented smile. Something beneath my rib cage cracked at the beauty of it. Arching a brow at her, I began again.

“Once upon a time,” I started slowly, daring her with a challenging look. She laughed warmly but didn’t interrupt. “There was a poor human boy who lived at the foot of Mount Obsidian. Paulinus was the only child of a shepherd who was enamored of the dragons winging up over the mountains near their hillside home. His father would always scold him. ‘Paulinus, you must get your head out of the clouds, boy.’ But every day as he drove the sheep to and from pasture, he’d crane his neck and watch the heavens for the winged beasts who ruled the sky.”

Jessen drank down the last of her glass of wine and set it on the floor by her feet, propping her chin on her clasped hands. The blanket slipped from her bare shoulder, the perfect silk-and-cream curve causing a flare of soulfire to burn with a sharp sting.

“The dragons didn’t try to eat humans or anything?” she asked, noting my pause and where my eyes had lingered.

Thankfully, she didn’t appear alarmed by my wayward gaze. Quite the contrary, she smiled.

“Well, did they eat humans?” she asked again, lifting her head and jarring me back to the story.

“Did the dragons eat humans?” I struggled not to laugh before answering, “No more than Morgons want to eat humans.”

Her breath hitched, for she certainly caught the heat in my gaze and the innuendo in my answer. I didn’t mean to make her nervous, but the thought of tasting her sent another unwanted flare blazing through my body.

“Shall I continue the story?”

Her cheeks flushed a perfect pink, then she resumed her position with her chin upon her clasped hands. “Yes, please.”

With a tight nod, I did.

“One day, Paulinus drove his sheep far out into pasture and was caught in a thunderous storm. His faithful dog helped him corral them toward the rocky foothills of Mount Obsidian where he knew there was a cave to shelter out the tempest. Over the clamor of thunder, lightning, the cries of his sheep, and the yelping of his dog, another sound of distress rode the storm. A girl’s cry. A girl in pain. Paulinus rushed toward the sound, only to find a young maiden trapped beneath a pile of rocks caused by a lightning strike. He immediately set to work, pulling the large stones that had pinned her legs. What he noticed as he hauled rock after rock from the now quiet maiden was her breathtaking beauty.”

“Of course.” Jessen inflected with a lilt of sarcasm.

“You did say you wanted a love story, didn’t you?”

“Actually, I said a happily ever after.”

“The best happily-ever-afters are love stories, Jessen,” I said pointedly.

She pressed her lips together as if to keep something from tumbling out of those beautiful lips.

“I suppose I can go on, then.” She made no protest, but her cheeks were painted a delightful deeper shade of pink. “As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, Paulinus recognized this maiden was exceptionally beautiful—golden blonde hair, sun-kissed skin, and fire-gold eyes. She was even wearing a shimmering dress of pale yellow. Of course, now it was drenched through as was her hair.

“When he hauled off the last rock, he asked, ‘Are you hurt? How can I help you?’ To which she replied as she shivered, ‘I’m so cold.’

“Paulinus lifted her without delay and carried her into the mouth of the nearby cave where his sheep had found shelter. After sheering three of his own sheep with the knife he kept in his boot, he made a warm bed and lay her in it, covering her with the wool.

“But she still appeared to be in pain. He asked again, ‘How can I help you?’

“She replied, ‘I am thirsty.’

“He ran to the opening of the cave, cupped his hands and let the rain water fill them. When he returned and held his offering to her lips, she smiled sadly and shook her head.

“‘Water cannot heal me. I need blood to drink.’”

“Wait.” Jessen’s brow pinched together. “This is a love story?”

I couldn’t help but grin. “A Morgon love story. Be patient.”

“Okay. Go on.” She seemed eager, listening intently.

“As you might have guessed, Paulinus was both terrified and fascinated to discover that she was indeed a dragon. For it was known that an injured dragon could heal more quickly by drinking blood. Human blood was the best, of course.”

“Of course,” Jessen added.

“Stop making snarky remarks about my ancestors or I won’t finish the story.”

“It’s a bit barbaric though, isn’t it?”

“And humans haven’t done anything barbaric in their ancient past?”

“Point taken.” She tilted her head to the side and yawned. “Go on.”

I leaned my elbow on the right armrest and crossed my ankle over my knee, angling my body toward her and the fire.

“Dragons themselves, when in their beast form, often hunted and ate animals from the forest. Paulinus didn’t even hesitate. He pulled his knife from his boot again and cut the fleshy part of his forearm, then offered it to the fair maiden to drink. And while her pale cheeks flushed with color from his blood, there was a deep sadness still in her eyes.

“Paulinus asked once more, ‘Please, sweet maiden. How can I help you?’

“‘My heart is lonely,’ she replied.”

This time Jessen didn’t interrupt. She blinked heavily, growing drowsy, but she still seemed to be listening.

“Paulinus knelt next to her bed of wool, cupped her delicate hand in his, and sang the sweetest lullaby he could think of. It was one of the hearth and home. His song was so beautiful that the maiden cried when he sang of an old mother holding her son in her arms who had wandered far from home as a young lad and had finally come home.

“When the song ended, the storm disappeared and the sun shone again. The maiden stood and held her hands out to Paulinus. He took them, then she said, ‘You have granted me three things I needed most, so I will grant you three wishes of your heart’s desire. Tell me, and I will grant your wishes if I can.’

“Paulinus quickly answered, ‘I wish to see the most powerful magic in the world.’

“Without hesitation, the maiden backed away from him, her fiery eyes flaring bright as stars, her body trembling with the change before a crack of energy rebounded in the cave. The flash of electricity blinded Paulinus for a few seconds. When he opened his eyes, a golden dragon stood before him. She then said in the maiden’s voice, ‘What else do you wish?’

“Stunned by her magnificence in dragon form, her scales glinting in the rays of the sun that slanted into the cave, he said, ‘I wish to see the most beautiful thing in our world.’

“She told him to climb up onto her back, so he did. She ducked out of the cave with Paulinus clinging to the spine of coarse hair on her neck, then rocketed into the sky. He thought the heavenly sky was the place she intended to show him, but after a length of time she descended out of the wispy clouds toward a ring of mountains with a deep valley at its center.

“This valley wasn’t a normal one. It was made entirely of sparkling gems, glittering in the valley like stars.”

Jessen smiled sleepily, her cheek still pressed to her hand. “The Vale of Stars.”

I nodded.

“Is that the end?”

“You’re terrible at listening to stories.” I scratched my chin, noting the day-old scruff. She half-laughed, her eyes hooded with drowsiness. I continued on in my steady story-telling tone. “She told him, ‘This is the most beautiful thing in the world.’ While they flew in a loop above the vale, she told him to ask for his last wish. He replied, ‘I would like the most precious treasure in the world.’

“She descended into the valley and found a rocky outcropping to land. He slipped from her back and stared out at the vast fields of rubies, sapphires, and diamonds. She transformed back into her maiden form and said, ‘There it is, my shepherd. The most precious treasure in the world.’

“He gazed for a moment, then turned away from it all to face her. Clasping her hand, he pressed it to his heart and said, ‘No. It is not. Love is the most powerful magic.’ He cupped her cheek and whispered, ‘You are the most beautiful creature in this world.’ He leaned closer and just before he pressed his lips to hers, he said, ‘And you are my most precious treasure.’ As soon as he kissed her lips, the force of the magic between them filled them up and burst them both into glittering shards, shooting them straight up into the sky where they scattered among the sky with the stars.”

“That is not a happily ever after,” she grumbled, her eyes slipping closed.

“Sure it is. They lived in the sky together for eternity.” I heaved a sigh. “Like I said, there are many versions to that—”

By some miracle, she’d drifted off to sleep. Perhaps it was the wine or the warmth of the room or coming down from the shock of adrenaline in her system. Or maybe I just bored her to sleep. Probably a combination of all of the above. No matter. I was grateful.

I lifted her gently off the floor, cradling her close. As soon as I touched her, the stinging pain inside me cooled. God, she felt good to have near me.

Setting her on the bed, I eased beside her, needing to be close to her. She murmured something I couldn’t understand before molding her body to my side and wrapping an arm across my chest. I trailed my fingers through her silken hair, reveling in this perfect moment with my mate. And knowing that when we woke in the morning, I’d have to tell her the truth and hope the stars were in my favor. Well, if Paulinus could spill his heart and soul to a golden dragon, then I’d have to summon the courage to do the same to the sweet human in my arms. No matter the consequences.