To Love a Dragon - Tiffany Roberts Page 0,38

as the last one he had shared with her. This could not be mistaken for a song of mourning. She placed her hand on his chest, feeling the vibrations through her palm—and where their pelvises were connected—as this new song took shape. It was equal parts soft, sweet, intimate, and soaring, building from a simple but beautiful melody and gaining complexity.

That tingling in her chest, that spark he’d shared with her, responded to the song. It danced along with his humming, spreading a soothing warmth through her.

Arysteon placed his free hand on her back and guided her down, accepting her full weight atop his body. She turned her head to rest her ear on his chest, closed her eyes, and let his song wash over her.

Even without him saying so, she knew this one was just for her.

This was his heartsong.

He moved his hand away. A moment later, the blanket settled over her, draping her in warmth—but it was a warmth that could not compare to that which he emitted. Arysteon returned his hand to her back and caressed her skin with the pads of his fingers. He carefully combed the fingers of his other hand through her hair, their claws occasionally grazing her scalp.

The combination of his gentle touch, his beautiful song, and his warm, secure embrace was more than she could withstand. Sleep swiftly claimed her.

10

Arysteon woke languidly from the deepest, most contented slumber of his life. This one night of sleep with Leyloni in his arms had been more restful than even the nap he’d once decided to take to slumber through winter—only to have awoken during the autumn a few years later, based on the state of his lair.

He and his mate had shifted during the night. They now lay on their sides, her body tucked against the curve of his with her back to his front. Her head rested upon one of his arms, her soft, curly hair was draped over his scales, and his other arm was around her middle, holding her firmly against him. The blanket atop them had trapped in their mutual warmth. Arysteon would choose this source of heat over lying on the rocks to bask in the sun any and every time.

Leyloni’s body was supple and smooth, soft in all the right places but possessing surprising strength. He’d barely begun his exploration of it. In time, he’d learn it intimately, right down to the tiniest details.

He tightened his hold on Leyloni and nuzzled her hair, drawing in a deep breath. The air was laden with her intoxicating fragrance, which mingled with the new scents produced by their mating to create something impossibly sweeter. But there was something else there, too—something just as distinct, just as familiar, something bearing a metallic tang.

Blood.

Arysteon’s heart stuttered. He lifted his head away from Leyloni, opening his eyes to gray dawn light streaming into the chamber, and tasted the air. The blood scent was coming from very close, and it was very fresh.

And he knew, somehow, that it was Leyloni’s.

His spark flared and sputtered as though on the verge of either exploding or fizzling out.

Arysteon jerked into a sitting position, dragging his mate up with him, barely able to hear anything over the thunderous beating of his heart.

“Leyloni,” he called, his raw voice echoing through the chamber.

Leyloni jolted awake, her hands flying to his chest. Her wide, alert eyes met his before seeking out Serek as the hatchling’s startled cry filled the lair. “What is it? What is wrong?”

“Blood.” Arysteon grasped the blanket in one hand and tore it away to bare his mate’s body. His gaze dipped frantically, searching for wounds, for the source of that scent. When his eyes moved past the skirt bunched around her waist, he froze.

Her inner thighs were smeared with crimson, and it was as stark against her pale skin as blood on fresh winter snow.

I harmed her. I have wounded her.

With trembling hands, he gently grasped her knees and spread her legs wider, following the bloody path to her sex. Her copper curls, once dewy with her lust, now glistened with crimson instead. The blood was coming from her slit.

Leyloni’s brows creased and she looked down. Gasping, she attempted to close her legs and pull away, but Arysteon held her firmly in place.

His insides twisted, and a great weight sank in his gut. He had been too rough. He had rutted her like a ravenous beast rather than taking appropriate care with his fragile mate. “What have I