During the discussion with the mage, Ainsley had come to realize that a shifter had no choice in who their mate was. Fate made the decision for them, and the possibility of a shifter finding their mate was much smaller than it had been long ago due to the increased human population.

Since dragons lived for so long, their mates may have been dead for centuries without them ever meeting, and in more recent times, the majority of them had died never having known their mates. According to Brendyn, that was only one of the reasons why it was so difficult for shifters to claim their mates.

The ones who were lucky enough to find them had other problems. Such as their human mate could already be married and have children. In cases like that, the dragon shifter usually preferred to end their own existence rather than being tormented with the knowledge that their mate was bound to another.

It was heartbreakingly sad.

It also confirmed her belief that Dragan had not loved her as she loved him. The affection that he had felt for her had been because of their connection through the mate bond. That was why he had doted on her while she was with him. It also explained why he had greeted her so warmly when she returned.

The bond had been the only thing that had bound him to her. If he had loved her, as she still loved him, he would have come for her. Moved heaven and earth to find her. Nothing could have kept them apart. But he hadn't and the confirmation that she'd been right shredded her heart all over again.

So she'd gone back to her room and stayed there for the rest of the day. Ainsley told herself that it was to give Ember the chance to have her father's undivided attention, but she knew it was a lie. The truth was that she was trying to protect herself. Because the more time she spent with Dragan, the harder it would be to leave him.

And she would have to leave him.

Not even for her daughter's sake could she stay with a man who didn't love her. So she would give him time to teach the girl what she needed to know, but once her training was complete, they were going home. Ember could visit him if she chose to, but Ainsley never planned to see Dragan again.

Her heart just couldn't take the beating.

She should have known that he would come looking for her when she didn't join them for dinner. Hearing the light rap on her door, she had assumed it was Brendyn coming to bring her a tray. After she'd bid him enter, the dragon king had been the one who stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.

Just what she needed. To be alone in a romantically appointed candlelit bedroom with the man she loved. Her heart pounded in anticipation at the thought before her brain mercilessly squashed it. "I thought you were Bren," she said as she sat up in a cross-legged position.

"He's entertaining Ember with magic tricks," Dragan replied as he prowled toward her. "She managed to shift back into human form on her own this time. I'm pleased with her progress, but she still has much to learn. Her training should have begun years ago."

"I'm sorry," she said regretfully, having heard the rebuke in his tone. "I should have told you about her."

"Yet you didn't," he replied tonelessly as he stopped beside the bed. "Why is that?"

"I didn't want to burden you," Ainsley confessed and heard his sharp intake of breath.

"You thought that my child, our child, would be a burden to me?" Dragan rasped.

"You didn't want me, so why would you want our daughter?" She demanded and couldn't prevent the bitterness from coloring her tone.

"Not want you?" He thundered furiously. "I worshiped you!"

"Then why didn't you come for me?" She fired right back at him, a tidal wave of pain and anger surging to the surface and wiping away her common sense in the process.

"You left me," Dragan roared, and she could see his eyes glowing red in the semi-darkness.

The vivid reminder of what he was sent a chill down her spine, dampening her anger. "So you stayed away because your pride was wounded," she deduced bitterly.

"Pride be damned," he growled and grasped her shoulders to haul her up onto her knees. "I gave you my heart, and you left me, Ainsley. You. Left. Me!"

"You were supposed to come for me," she shouted right back at him as a tear slid down her cheek. "If you loved me, you would have."

"If I loved you," he repeated in something akin to a snarl and released her. "Do you know what it means when a dragon gives his heart, Ainsley? Do you have any idea of the depth of commitment that entails?"

"No," she admitted resentfully as she sank down onto the bed and curled her knees beneath her. "How could I when I didn't even know that dragons existed?"

He walked over to the door and flipped a switch, bathing the room with light. Ainsley blinked at the sudden brightness, and her mouth went dry as she saw Dragan unbuttoning his shirt. The sight of his burnished gold skin with muscles rippling beneath the surface was enough to take her breath away.

Images of her lips kissing that golden flesh, her nails digging into those broad shoulders, flooded her mind even as the heat of desire coiled low in her abdomen. Then she gasped in horror when she saw the jagged scar that slashed across his chest. "Oh, God. What happened?" She asked tremulously.

Dragan lifted his right hand, and before her eyes, his fingers grew into lizard-like claws covered in golden scales. "When a dragon gives his heart, he physically gives it," he bit out. "With these claws, I cut half of the beating heart from my chest for you, Ainsley. For you. The woman who ran from me."

"Oh my God," she breathed in horror and clapped a hand over her mouth. The uneven scar bore evidence of his words, and the golden claws certainly looked more than capable of slicing through human flesh. Unable to comprehend why he would have done such a horrendous thing, she asked in bewilderment, "Why?"

"It is the way a dragon claims his mate," he informed her stiffly as his hand returned to normal and dropped to his side. "He gives his heart to the one woman that he cannot live without, binding them together as one forever. As long as my heart beats, so will yours."

"You wanted to cut my heart out?" She choked out in disbelief.

"No. I wanted to give you mine," he replied and removed something from his pants pocket to toss it onto the bed beside her.

Wary of what it might be, Ainsley gingerly lifted the object and gasped in shock. It was a solid ruby heart. Light sparkled from the multi-faceted surface, but she could see the image of a golden dragon in its depths. It was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen and obviously a priceless work of art. "What is this?"

"Your half of my heart," he explained in a tone devoid of emotion. "Forged by dragon fire into a jewel fit for a queen."

"This is your heart?" She squeaked in astonishment.

"No, Ainsley," he denied sadly, his velvety brown eyes as somber as his expression. "From the moment I laid eyes on you, it's been yours."

Ainsley was so focused on the beautiful gem that she didn't hear the door open or see him leave the room. She just sat there staring in shock at the priceless jewel she held. Because it was tangible proof that Dragan had loved her. So much that he had cut the beating heart out of his chest for her.

She should have been appalled that he'd done something so insane. To mutilate his body just to prove his love for her. The pain had to have been unbearable. It would have killed a human crazy enough to attempt it, but this was obviously some sort of mating ritual that dragon shifters performed.

To physically give their heart.

In some twisted, bizarre way, it was the most romantic gesture that she could imagine. Because he loved her. Dragan really loved her! Tears of joy streamed down her face as she lifted the precious treasure to her lips and placed a kiss on the smooth surface before she cradled it against her own heart.

It was like being doused in lava. Agonizing heat filled her body as fire licked through her veins, consuming her from the inside out. She screamed in pain, dropping the stone as she shot off of the bed. The door burst open, and she looked at Dragan in stunned disbelief. "It burned me," she panted breathlessly. "I'm on fire."

 

***

 

Dragan rushed across the room and pulled Ainsley against himself, absorbing the extra heat from her body into his. Within a matter of seconds, her trembling frame had gone limp against him, and he gently lifted her into his arms. Sitting on the bed, he held her protectively while she clung to him and cried.

Her tears were killing him, but knowing that she'd been hurt because of him was even worse. He stroked her back and hair soothingly, placing tender kisses atop her head as he whispered his regret, "I'm sorry, my Ainsley. I should have warned you not to let it touch your heart. I'm so sorry you were hurt."

"What did it do to me?" She asked tremulously, her big, lavender eyes filled with fear that shredded him.

"Its purpose is to link our hearts and souls as one," he confessed. "But without the mating ritual, it merely exposes you to the intense heat of the fire that created it."

"That was dragon fire?" Ainsley queried, and he nodded confirmation. "Wow. It is intense."

"And lethal," he muttered grimly and hugged her a little tighter. "If I hadn't been here to absorb the heat it would have killed you."

She shuddered and buried her face against his chest. "I'm so sorry, Dragan. I never imagined the depth of your love for me," she whispered brokenly, her arms tightening around him. "I didn't realize that my leaving would hurt you so deeply."

"A dozen years barely constitutes a day when you've lived for centuries," he said solemnly and reveled in holding her close. "But even a day without you is too much to bear."

"Then why didn't you come for me?" She demanded as tear-filled lavender eyes met his.

"Did you want me to?" He asked, heart in his throat.

"Of course I did," she admitted fervently. "Didn't you read the letter I left you?"

"There was nothing to read," he confessed. "The page was singed black, and the few words I could make out did not sound promising."

"I don't understand," Ainsley said as she slid off of his lap. "I poured my heart out to you in that letter, Dragan."

He rose and took her hand in his. "Come, Ainsley. I will show you," he said as he led her down the hallway to his bedroom. Lifting the lid of an ornately carved chest, he removed the faded, folded piece of paper and handed it to her. "This is what you left for me."

He saw her hands tremble as she opened it and stared at the scorched paper. Dragan didn't have to look to know what she saw. The few legible words were permanently engraved in his mind. Goodbye, frightens me, Nothing matters, leaving you, your feelings, fairy tale, my greatest fear, forever, home.

He'd had years to ponder the words, wondering what the missing passages in between were, but the ones he'd been able to read had told their own story. Ainsley had said goodbye. He had frightened her, was her greatest fear. His feelings for her had not mattered, so she had left him and the fairy tale behind forever to go home.

"How did this happen?" She asked in dismay and crushed the blackened paper in her fist.

"Brendyn said that you had somehow managed to draw an enormous burst of his magical power when your hands touched," he confessed heavily. "It felt like an electrical charge that he believes scorched the paper and obliterated the words. Not knowing exactly what it said has always tormented me."

"Really? Because knowing has tormented me," she said angrily and threw the crumpled ball of paper at him before walking out of the room.