To Tame a Dragon - Tiffany Roberts Page 0,35

during his brief slumbers, and his mouth had watered whenever he’d thought about tasting her—about tasting her essence.

All that, however, was merely a single aspect of their mating bond, and it was the simplest. His drive to rut constantly would diminish when the comet was gone, but his want for her would not—he knew that down to his core.

That physical desire, that lust, was not the issue. Its source did not matter; it simply was. But wanting to rut her did not equate to having a true connection to her. Though their mating bond was very real, it was merely a cord binding them together. It could not compel them to like one another. It was not enough on its own.

There was a hollowness in his chest, a hungry void that seemed impossible to fill, and it had grown along with his yearning for Elliya. He knew it was loneliness, at least in part, though he’d never guessed it could be so overwhelming, so consuming. Dragons were not meant to feel lonely. Solitude was their natural state. Mated dragons especially were not supposed to feel it, and he’d been mated. He'd found his companionship.

Have I truly? Is she companion or prisoner?

In the eight days they’d spent together, Elliya had not denied Falthyris use of her body. She’d rutted him with determination, and usually seemed to take pleasure from it. But apart from a few hesitant caresses, she no longer touched him, no longer sought those little instants of intimacy with him. He’d seen her reach for him a few times only to snap her hand back as though touching him would scorch her flesh.

And to his immense disappointment, she’d not once tried to press her lips against his, had not once tried to recreate what had been the most complete expression of tenderness he’d ever experienced. The few times he’d attempted to do so, she’d just pulled away.

He could not express the hurt that had caused him, though he understood he had no right to be upset by her rejection. Their conversations during the last week had been uncomfortable; they’d exchanged no meaningful words, had spoken of nothing of any depth, and silence had grown to encompass the majority of their time together. Elliya had often seemed sad, downtrodden, weary.

Was he demanding too much of her body?

His eyes returned to Elliya as she dipped to submerge herself up to her shoulders. Her long hair fanned out around her, floating on the water’s surface. He could not help but wonder what expression she was wearing.

I know well it has nothing to do with my demands on her body.

Those sparse conversations they’d shared had often grown heated and confrontational. A thousand years of anger, shame, and bitterness swirled within his breast, and he’d rarely spared her its bite. Too often, he’d been dismissive or insulting. Too often, he’d been spiteful. And every time he’d snapped at her, every time he’d lashed out, insulted her, or blamed her for his problems, every time he’d been curt or abrasive, he’d seen the pain upon her face. He’d seen it in her eyes. He’d watched her steadily withdraw from him even as she’d worked to establish herself a cozy haven within his lair.

He shouldn’t have cared about her feelings, shouldn’t have concerned himself with anything beyond the relief her body provided, but his heartfire had dimmed every time he’d seen that look on her face. Shards of ice had pierced his chest with her every frown, expanding that void, making it colder and more ravenous.

No matter how close they came physically, their hearts were separated by a rift as expansive as the Forsaken Sands. All he’d done thus far was widen that rift. More and more, he yearned to close it—or, if that was not possible, to cross it. To find her. To…meet her.

He’d thought himself content to treat their bond as little more than a means by which to vent the Heat, had thought himself content to view her as a thing to be used. But her spirit had been so strong in the few glimpses of it she’d allowed him that he felt bereft in its absence.

He wanted more than just rutting, more than just her body. More than the mating bond.

His desire for her body may have been sparked by the Heat and the forced bond, but this growing need for more…that was all him.

Elliya tipped her head back and combed her fingers through her hair, sweeping more of its strands into