Ember (The Dragao 1)

“So,” I said softly and drew my focus to Azar from where I’d been staring at the ground. He sat a few feet in front of me, urging me to drink more water and eat more meat, although food was the last thing on my mind.

He didn’t speak, and neither did I, and it was strange to be able to know how much he wanted to take care of me.

I cleared my throat again. “There’s this thing inside you… this thing called a Cord?” He gave a slow nod. “And it awakens when you find your mate?” He stared at me for a prolonged second before giving another nod. Did he not trust his voice to speak like I hadn't so many times in my life? I licked my lips and stared at the fire, churning all this information over. If the council of elders knew any of this, they sure as hell had never told the citizens of the Pit.

Azar was silent, as if he knew I had to work through all of this on my own and without pressure.

“And a dragon shifter—a Dragao—only has one fated mate for his entire existence?”

Again Azar nodded, his focus solely on me, his expression giving nothing away.

“And if you never find your mate, and this Cord is never awoken, you never form a relationship? You’d never… be with a female?”

He exhaled after I spoke, the sound harsh in the stillness of the cavern. He shook his head slowly, his black eyes looking at the flames, his expression stony, yet I could see the intelligence working in those dark orbs, as if he were mulling all of this around too, maybe even wondering if he shouldn’t have told me anything at all, because I probably sounded freaked out as hell.

Didn’t he think I’d try to escape? The smart part of me should have thought of that, but as I stared at Azar, I realized I’d never once thought about trying to leave, trying to run away.

“We have one female destined to be ours and ours alone.” His deep voice startled me after so much silence from him during all of this. His words, the tone, all of it washed through me, and I felt warm and soft in all the places I shouldn’t. “And although she won’t ever feel the Cord, as that is purely a trait of the Dragao”—he slowly slid his gaze back to me—"she will definitely feel a connection. The connection.”

Oh… I definitely felt something toward him, a sensation that made no sense but was the greatest thing in this world. It was an irrevocable tugging that had everything to do with needing to be near Azar, to be as close as two people physically could, to feel his skin against mine, to breathe in his scent. It scared me—I wouldn’t lie—this intensity with which I desired him, a stranger, a shifter. Not a human.

And I thought about all the crazy things that had happened, all the awful things that happened in the Pit that people just turned a blind eye to. There was corruption and degradation that occurred because people were desperate for anything to make their lives easier. This moment with Azar wasn’t the most outrageous situation I could’ve been put in. It certainly wasn’t the most dangerous.

“And the scent that’s constantly around me—”

“It’s because of my Cord.” The slow growl that followed his words had a shiver moving up my spine. “That scent is me. That scent is just for you. And the longer we deny the mating, the more the desire will consume us, the more my scent will work as an aphrodisiac.”

I shivered at his response, hating that I loved hearing him say these things.

“So you see, Emma, when I say you’re mine, I mean that down to the very makeup of who I am, of what I am made of.”

I let his words sink in before I responded. “And what if your mate doesn’t want you?” I whispered, unsure why the words spilled from me. If my words shocked him, if he thought I was talking about myself, he didn’t let it show. His big body was still as stone, his expression matching that. “If your mate didn’t want you, would you force yourself upon her? Force the mating?”

I did see a flicker of something now cross his face. His jaw clenched, as if my words were his trigger, as if it was unconscionable to even think of. But then again, if this is what every Dragao yearns for—that one female born to be theirs—I could see how the very thought that they couldn’t have her would be like someone ripping their heart out.

For long moments he said nothing, and I desperately wanted to know what was on his mind. He exhaled again and lifted his hand to run it over his hair, his fingers brushing against the base of his horns.