Darci spun around and smiled at Blaéz, her heart clopping like a teen with a severe case of infatuation. Ugh, there went her plans to surprise him.

“Teaching her a few things you haven’t,” Týr taunted before she opened her mouth.

At the innuendo, Blaéz’s eyes slit. “Lucky for you, I know you mean pitching the blade, or we’d be scraping you off the ground with a shovel. Or maybe I’d just leave you there to fertilize the soil. That hide should be useful for something.”

Laughing, Týr flipped him off and glanced back at her. “Dars, great work. Keep practicing.” He strolled off through the trees, probably heading toward the beach.

“Blaéz, look.” Darci spun to him, unable to contain her excitement. “I can finally throw my dagger.”

She grasped the blade exactly how Týr had shown her and let it fly. It hit the cork surface and bounced off. Her grin faded. “But it worked,” she moaned. “It did.”

“A leannan, you won’t always get it a hundred percent the first try—”

“How can you say that?” She glowered at him. “I’ve been working on this for two days.”

“You have?” His dark eyebrow rose in surprise. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Her shoulders sagged in dejection. “I wanted to surprise you with what I could do, but this blade hates me.”

“It may be mystical, but it can’t hate you, sweetheart.” Blaéz cupped her face and pressed his warm lips to hers before he stepped back. “Come, let’s practice a bit more before we head into town.”

A sigh escaped her at the too brief contact. She still had no idea what to make of his earlier kiss. “Okay. So, what do I do?”

He showed her how to work the dagger again, and even with holding the hilt, one could apparently hit a target from a distance.

“Now try.” He stepped back as she summoned the blade to her. Darci pulled back her arm and let it fly. The weapon hissed through the air and embedded just off dead center. “Yes!” She spun to him then narrowed her eyes. “You didn’t help me with your abilities, did you?”

His lips twitched in amusement. “I want you to be able to pitch that weapon properly. So, no.”

“Great.” She leaped into his arms, taking him back a few steps and kissed him. Just as fast, he took over, his tongue licking hers with fiery passion, his hands lowering to squeeze her backside. God. Darci moaned into his mouth. It had been too long.

Then Blaéz broke the kiss.

Panting hard, she blinked, as he set her back on her feet, and despite his taut expression, he quirked a dark brow. “You conceding?”

It took her a moment before she could respond. “No way.”

He laughed. And just like that, the tense sensual moment dissipated in the chilly air. Dark clouds gathered above, stealing some of the weak sunlight. “C’mon. You have a dress appointment at three, right?”

She nodded. As they headed toward the castle, Blaéz reached for her hand and drew her closer.

Seduce him?

Right. She’d been so lost in him moments ago, and he could have easily won this bet. Yet, he did nothing. Echo was wrong. Seduction wouldn’t work, not in this situation—not when he was determined to give her a perfect wedding. Silly traditions and all.

Darci cut him a furtive glance. But his attention appeared focused on the muddy, leaf-strewn path in front of them. Lines furrowed his brow. Instinctively, Darci knew what—or rather who—was on his mind, and probably why he’d sought her out when he discovered she’d gone outside. Finnén had a nasty habit of turning up where least expected.

Refusing to let him cast a pall over their upcoming wedding, she put his brother out of her thoughts for now and concentrated on more important things. “Blaéz?”

Those cobalt blue eyes shifted to her. With no idea how to ask him what she wanted, she simply said it, “Do you think we could have the wedding at the castle?”

He slowed to a halt at the edge the forest where wild shrubs grew in abundance. A frown marred his brow. “What about your friends and family? They can’t come to the castle, Darci. You know the rules we live by.”

“I do. But it’s okay, really. Most are acquaintances, so it’s not like I’d be hurt if they weren’t there…” When he remained silent, she hastily explained, “The wedding will be late in the afternoon. I know the Guardians will want to go back on patrol. Also, all of them in one place would definitely draw notice from my brother’s neighbors—they’re quite nosey. Besides, my family knows about you, and they’re the only people I absolutely want there on that day. I’d really like for them to see that you don’t have me living in some shack in the backwoods. And that I am truly happy with you…” Her long, drawn-out speech petered out. Her worried gaze searched his.

That dark eyebrow popped up. “Shack?”

Out of everything she’d said, he’d pick up on that one. She sighed, absently tracing her thumb over the swirling design on the hilt of her dagger. “You know what I mean.”

“I know.” He gave her a slow, panty-wetting smile. Ugh, like she wasn’t already damp from their brief interlude, which he probably knew about with his heightened sense of smell. “All right, I’ll get Michael’s okay for it. Can’t have your brother thinking we inhabit a shack now, can we?” He laced their fingers and continued walking. “You need help with anything else?”

“No, I have everything covered. And thank you.” Relieved, she rubbed her cheek against his sweater-covered bicep. “I only hope Dec can find someone to officiate our marriage, or we’ll have to continue living in sin—” Darci broke off and frowned, glancing around.

Swoosh…swoosh. What is that sound?

Blaéz cursed.

Then she looked up. Her eyes widened, her fingers tightening around the dagger’s hilt.

A mammoth wing-shape blotted the weak sunlight and gloomy clouds, drawing closer, the color darker than night.

As the creature swooped in low, its enormous leathery extremities flapped once more, sending an icy gust of air sweeping through the young shrubs and over them.

Darci grabbed her flying hair. Blaéz growled, pulling her protectively within the shelter of his arms. The dragon landed a short distance from them, ebony scales rippling in a wave over its massive body as it tucked in its wings. Two deadly horns swept out from each temple. A row of serrated, silvertip black spikes ran from its head and down its spine, but the small wild shrubs concealed the rest of him.

“Who is that?” she whispered.

“Guardian trouble.”

Darci opened mouth then shut it, her questions forgotten, her gaze fixed on a creature most people believed a myth.

The dragon’s massive head swiveled toward them, a sinister smirk stretching its reptilian-like face, revealing a mouthful of dangerously sharp teeth. It snorted, emitting a powerful exhalation of hot air through its nostrils. Slitted eyes, glowing an eerie red, slid to Darci, lingered, and then returned to Blaéz.

Faster than a blink, his enormous form folded into itself and a tall male appeared. His hair gleamed like liquid silver against his bare, tan chest, the perfection broken only by an ebony streak near his forehead.

Darci gasped. “Wait, is that—?”

“Race. Indeed. Always with the dramatic entrance,” Blaéz muttered.

Another snort reached her as the elusive dragon Guardian cut through the shrubs, stepped on the gravelly path, and strolled toward them. Naked.

“For hellssake, put on some damn pants,” Blaéz snapped.

The warrior cocked a dark brow. Then a shrug followed. A pair of black pants appeared in his hand. He stopped and pulled on the cotton slacks.

At her mate’s annoyed expression, Darci bit her lower lip, struggling not to smile. Race was drop-dead stunning for sure, but he wasn’t Blaéz. No one was.

* * *

Blaéz bolted down his irritation and shot the warrior a hard stare, which was totally wasted on him since he didn’t look up. “What are you doing here?”

Still silent, Race tied the strings on his pants. He didn’t talk…much. Had to be the dragon in him. That alter-ego bastard practically reeked of wildness and solitude.

He looked up and angled his silver head thoughtfully. “I find I’m somewhat curious as to why you’d choose a lifetime of hell. Again…”

“So, you flew across the continents to get your answer?” Blaéz asked, tone droll.

“And I find that hell is beautiful.” Race’s gaze slid back to Darci.

At the blush streaking her cheeks, Blaéz wanted to punch him. For someone who shunned the living, even interacting with the Guardians unless he had to, Race was a bloody contradiction today.

“Save it, dragon. This is my mate, Darci. Race is another Guardian,” he told her. “Ignore whatever he says. We do.”

She smiled. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Your dragon’s incredible.”

“Well, now…” Race’s deep red irises brightened, his provoking expression changing into one of sudden interest. “She is something…”

And there he went again, the flirty fucker! A low growl built in Blaéz’s chest.

Race’s eyes gleamed in amusement.

Damn idiot! Reeling in his exasperation, Blaéz asked, “Are you going inside?”

“No.” He slid his hands into the pants pocket and rocked on his bare feet, his gaze drifting skyward. “I’m heading back.”

“You came all this way just to give me shit?”

“No, I wanted to see the female who chose to die for you.”

Feeling as he’d been hit in the heart, hearing that, Blaéz hauled her close, not wanting to think about that horrible time when he nearly lost her.

“I love him,” Darci said quietly, her fingers stroking his chest. “I would do anything for him.”

Race glanced at her, then his gaze lowered to the obsidian dagger she fisted. A hint of a smile appeared. “And dangerous, too.”

Blaéz exhaled roughly and eyed his fellow Guardian thoughtfully. “You need to get out more, Race. Seriously. Or those mountains will be all you end up with if you don’t find your mate soon.”

“Probably.” He lifted a shoulder in a careless shrug, but his eyes were like ruby stones. Cold. “Gave up on that eons ago. Now, I’m off. Darci, it’s been a pleasure. Celt…I’m out of your hair.”

His smirk in place, Race stepped back several feet, but the ebony scales rippling beneath his tan skin said otherwise. His dragon was close to the surface. In a seamless transition from man to an enormous, scaly beast, his massive tail swished, swiping away several saplings behind him. In a furious flap of wings, scattering the fallen leaves on the ground, he took off into the overcast sky.

“That was…unexpected,” Darci murmured.

Blaéz silently watched his fellow Guardian until he disappeared into the thick, dark clouds.

“You know, I think he came here for something more than to simply irritate you,” she said, her tone thoughtful.

“What?”

“For clarification… To see that love exists.”

Blaéz looked at her and shook his head. “You heard him.”

“So?” A feminine eyebrow rose in challenge. “If someone had told you the same thing before you met me?”

He stared at her for a long second. She was right. Since he hadn’t been in possession of his emotions back then, he would have probably told them to fuck off.

Blaéz smiled. “Point taken.”

Yes, he’d found Darci, found an extraordinary love with her. He wanted the same for his Guardian brothers. But they were too bloody stubborn and set in their revenge.

“C’mon. Or we’ll be late for your appointment.” He slung his arm around her shoulder and headed back for the castle.

Still, he hoped Race heeded his advice.