Aimee
“I love you.”
She rolled over, putting her phone down and gazed into the eyes of a wonderful man, partner, and lover. And dragon, of course.
“I love you, too.”
Fingers pushed the unruly strands of golden-blonde hair from her face with a tender gentleness someone of his size shouldn’t possess. Even now, two months into their relationship, she still marveled at the way he could become a pillar of steel in public before turning into a fluffy puppy dog when they were alone.
She would never tell him this, but Aimee absolutely loved both sides of her fire-breathing man. Never had she felt so safe and secure, feminine, and yet completely and thoroughly trusted to do whatever she felt like. Rhys struck the perfect balance between protector, guardian, lover, and partner in crime. All the years of loneliness and heartbreak had been worth it to wait for him.
“Do you want children?”
She gaped at him. Where had that come from? Sure, the idea of kids appealed to her, but she was already thirty-three going on thirty-four. Her career didn’t show any signs of slowing down. In fact, now that Rhys’s Rescue and Air Transport had supplanted the federal government as the official provider of services to the Drake’s Crossing area, she’d been busier than ever. Bringing a kid into this was…not feasible.
“The idea is appealing,” she admitted. “But I like where I’m at, Rhys. And I fear that by the time I get to the point where a child, or children, is feasible, that I’ll be too old. We humans age a lot faster than you. I can’t afford to wait decades.” She felt a tear glisten in her eye and looked away. “I’m sorry.”
“My love,” he whispered, wiping away her tear. “Never apologize.”
She looked up at him, wondering how she’d gotten so lucky to find someone who cared for her so much he’d give up something that obviously mattered to him so much, just for the chance to be with her.
“Besides,” he said, the tone of his voice narrowing her eyes.
“You have something up your sleeve.”
“Maybe.”
Loquacious as ever, she rolled her eyes and pushed him. The result was she moved two inches back across the bed. It was like trying to move a steel wall. Impossible. Her hands squeezed around his biceps though, enjoying the bulge and curve of his muscles.
“Spit it out then, silly dragon man.”
“Have you not wondered yet about what would happen as we got older?”
“Um, truthfully?”
He nodded.
“No. I kinda forgot,” she said, embarrassed. “But now that you mention it, yeah. I’m not sure I can handle becoming old and feeble while you’re still…well, this. There’s no way you’ll stay with me once these hang down to the top of my ribcage.” She pointed at her small breasts. The two of them laughed, despite the accuracy of her comment. There wasn’t much there to sag.
“Well,” he swallowed nervously.
Aimee sat up abruptly at that. Whatever it was, this was a big deal to him. She thought about encouraging him to speak, but this time she held back. Slow, gentle. A caress, not punch, was what was necessary now. Rarely had she ever seen her mate like this.
“Have you ever thought of getting a tattoo?”
The bubble burst. “What the fuck? I thought you were going to suggest something big here.”
He looked away. “I mean, it is kinda big, I just figured that maybe a tattoo would be preferable to embedding it in your skin, ‘cause that might be weird, and I just wanted to try and appeal to you so that you would want to.” He paused to take a breath. “Because I don’t want to lose you, and this just seemed the easiest way that I could come up with, but if you don’t like it we don’t need to—”
Aimee pressed her hand to his mouth, stopping the word-vomit. “Okay, whatever this is, it’s clearly got you nervous beyond all reasonable amount. I was going to go slow with you, but it seems you need my feminine touch.”
Rhys exploded with laughter. “I’m sorry, your what?!” he howled, shaking so hard she thought he was going to break the bed.
SMACK!
“Ow!” he yelped as her hand connected solidly with his tight ass, leaving a beautiful five-finger mark.
She forced herself not to wince in pain, trying to act like it hadn’t hurt her at all, but damn that had been excellent contact.
“See what I mean!” he complained, still laughing.
Aimee raised her hand again, but he put both up as a shield. “I give, I give!” he chuckled as she tackled him.
“Out with it, mister. What is the big deal and why a tattoo?”
He sobered instantly. “Do you still have the stone I gave you?”
She frowned. “Yes. It’s in my nightstand.” After a gesture she got it.
Rhys took it in his hand, and as she watched it wavered, altered, and then dissolved into an image of a dragon a little larger than both her hands put together, the shape outlined in black lines mixed with bits of silvery-platinum from the scale he’d worked into it.
“Wow,” she breathed. “It’s beautiful.”
He smiled, looking embarrassed. “I’ve put some of me into this,” he told her. The image shrunk a little, some of the black working itself into an intricately linked necklace. “If you wear this around your neck, it will do a lot for you.”
“Like what?” she asked, holding the pendant necklace in her hand. It was now closer to the size of her palm. Hard, yet flexible enough that it wouldn’t feel awkward on her.
“Slow aging. Cure and prevent disease, for starters. You’ll probably notice a slight increase to your strength and reflexes, but not enough to mark you as different.”
“Seriously? It can do all that?”
“Yes.” He hesitated before pushing on. “And if you embed it into your skin, it will tie you to me completely, bonding us as one.”
“Meaning I’ll turn into a dragon?” Aimee wasn’t sure about that one.
“No,” he said with a grin. “But it will keep you alive as long as I am.”
She gasped. “Really?”
“Yes. We could see the future of this world for ages to come, side by side.” He shrugged. “If you want that.”
Aimee had never been so sure of anything in her life. Rolling onto her back, she pulled the covers down to expose the skin there. “Will here work?”
“Yes,” he said, laying the cool-feeling stone onto her skin.
“How do we do this?”
He grimaced. “Uh, I cut you open and press it into your skin. It’s not a pleasant experience, but you will heal quickly, thanks to its benefits.”
It was her turn to hesitate. “You can’t just press it into me?”
“No, I’m sorry. Once it bonds to you I lose the ability to shape it further. So I have to press it into an open cut. Sort of like a tattoo.”
Shit. “This is going to hurt, isn’t it?”
“It might sting a bit.”
“Damn, it’s really going to suck. But you say I’ll be able to spend eternity with you?”
“Yes.”
“Then let’s get started, my mate. My love. I don’t want to waste another second being any farther apart from you than I need to be.”
She lay flat and prepared for the first moments of the rest of her life.
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This concludes Ember, Dragons of Drake’s Crossing Book 2.