Rhuron's Bride (Crystal Glass Dragons 1)

3

Rhuron

Ihad to be driven into town.

With wings as capable as mine, it was an embarrassment to have to travel anywhere by car. I followed through, though, and kept my mind on what was ahead of me. There were three plant and flower shops in Ember Abyss. The first one I got too had a man behind the counter. He was a tiny, greasy looking, man that had a garlicky smell.

“I’m looking for someone, she may be an employee of yours,” I explained. “Does anyone else work here?”

“My daughter.” He looked at me warily. “What do you want with her?”

“What does she look like?”

He looked annoyed with the question. “Why the hell do you want to know?”

“I’m looking for my fated mate,” I explained. Surely, he’d understand.

“She’s sixteen, you sick fuck,” he started coming at me around the counter, and I was in shock. The seer definitely wouldn’t have sent me after a child, right? I could have shifted, defended myself and destroyed his humble shop, but I was on the hunt.

I had to find her.

Quickly, I moved on to the next shop, and then the next.

Nobody fit her description. Everyone seemed annoyed at what I was asking, even though I wasn’t sure of another way to ask. I was annoyed, frustrated, and on the brink of just turning around and going back home. Still, I had to see this through.

My people, my species, hinged on me being able to carry this out.

The world hadn’t seen a natural born wild dragon in thousands of years; we, the dragon shifters, were the last dragons the world would ever see. These people might have been of weaker breeding, quick to anger and clinging to their inane assumptions, but somewhere among them hid the gem that was my fated mate.

I could put up with them for that long.

As we pulled up to the final shop, a woman rushed out as she pulled her coat in against the late-fall wind. I watched with interest, wondering if there was a chance this was my woman. Her hair was long and artificially red. It couldn’t be her.

My driver opened the door for me, and I nodded a thanks to him before approaching the shop.

I wasn’t planning to be yelled at this time.

Instead I decided to take a less direct route.

Walking into the store, I quickly detoured to the side and pretended to study a stand of flowers. I could smell something incredible, the deliciously sweet smell of brown sugar and cinnamon. It was by far the best smell in a shop filled with beautiful scents.

It was her.

Our eyes met briefly, and every feature that the seer described was there — but with so much more.

She was breathtaking in some strangely simple way. Her lips were plush, soft looking as they parted to say something. She pursed them instead as she rifled through some papers on the desk, trying to keep busy. Her hands were nimble and small, leading up to slender arms and a chest with a couple of handfuls of soft breasts. Her eyes stayed pointedly off of me, as if trying to ensure that she wasn’t caught looking.

There were freckles beneath them, and the more I looked, the more I noticed them scattered across the rest of her skin.

Her hips were thick, begging to be held, to be claimed.

I licked my lips and cleared my mind.

This had to be her.

Had to be.

I’d never been so fixated on a woman before.