Mated to the Earth Dragon (Elemental Mates 2)

Then the meeting was ended, and Damon stretched his wings with obvious relief. He ignored the water dragon, and after a terse goodbye to the griffin and the dragon of air, he took flight from the opening of the cave, leaving Sky Home and the council of elements behind to head straight back towards Iceland.

It was a flight that would take a few hours even for a dragon as powerful as him, but he did not mind the exertion. It was good to stretch his wings once more, especially after having to listen to the water dragon go on and on.

Also, and that was a reason he hadn’t dared to give to the council, his dragon was aching to return to the Blue Lagoon.

He’d been soaking in the mineral waters among the tourists, hoping that the rocks that surrounded this famous tourist trap might have soaked up some news of strange events, when a weird sensation had struck him.

He’d never felt anything like it before.

It was as if a hand had reached straight inside his chest and squeezed around his heart. And at the same time, a breathless joy had filled him, every nerve in his body vibrating with something just barely out of his grasp.

It hadn’t been connected to the rumors of fire dragons. He wasn’t sure what exactly he’d felt—but it didn’t have to do with any threat.

And then the call from the chimera had come, summoning him back to the council immediately. Leaving Iceland behind had been the hardest thing he’d ever done. It was as if something had hooked into his heart and was steadily pulling him back, so that every hour spent away from it was an endless, throbbing pain deep inside his chest.

He was meant to go back. He was meant to be in Iceland, for some reason he didn’t quite understand—it felt as if his life depended on it.

He’d honorably served on the council for most of his life, and he knew the duty he carried as a dragon who was master of one of the elements. But all the same, it had never been harder to do his duty—it was a feeling that threatened to nearly rip out his heart.

All the same, he was going back now. He was going back to Iceland, and he would soak in the waters of the Blue Lagoon again. And this time, he wouldn’t leave until he found out what had overwhelmed all of his senses in such a strange way.

That, and his duty, of course. He’d never fail his duty to the council. Still, there was no rule that said that he couldn’t combine his search for the fire dragon with the search for whatever had unsettled his dragon’s heart so.

The answer was in Iceland, and this time he wouldn’t leave until he’d found it.

Chapter Three: Autumn

“Careful—don’t get too close to the geyser, or you'll get wet.”

The French tourists next to her giggled excitedly at their guide’s warning, getting out their phones. Autumn joined them after a moment of hesitation—this was her once-in-a-lifetime trip, after all. She knew she’d regret it if she didn’t get at least a few pictures out of it to remember everything later.

Staring at her screen attentively, she tried to pose, smiling brightly at the camera. Any moment now...

As if on cue, the geyser erupted. Autumn’s finger mechanically hit the button, even though her eyes had gone wide with sudden shock, and she’d forgotten to smile.

There, right in front of her, the viking from the Blue Lagoon had suddenly appeared.

She couldn’t even say how she knew it was him. She hadn’t seen his face before. But for some reason, she was utterly certain it was him.

He had the same broad chest and strong shoulders, combined with arms that seemed made to wrestle sheep and narrow hips that looked stunningly good in his jeans. He was wearing one of the fluffy Icelandic sweaters made from local wool she’d admired when she’d gone window shopping in Reykjavik. Now that his hair wasn’t wet, it was brown, just long enough to slightly curl in the damp air surrounding the geyser.

His eyes were brown, too. They were the brown of the land that surrounded her: the color of the ancient hills where families had lived for hundreds of years, a hue that felt earthy and warm and mysterious.

A shiver ran through her as she stared at him, the erupting geyser behind her completely forgotten.

Next to her, she heard the French girls cry out in sudden surprise, but she couldn’t look away from him. She could feel herself sinking into his eyes. If she’d actually believed in the legends of Iceland’s elves, she would have thought that he was one of them. There was a light that seemed to illuminate his eyes. She’d believed in a second that he was the king of the elves, or maybe a mythical warrior who’d traveled through time.

And then his eyes widened, and he came racing towards her.

A second later, she felt herself pulled against his strong chest, his arms protectively closing around her.

Ohhh... That’s so nice, she thought dizzily. His scent overwhelmed her. He smelled like Iceland’s highlands: of rock and dark soil and the heat of volcanoes, mingled with a hint of masculine musk that made her knees go weak.

And then a downpour of water came down over her. Sputtering, she looked up, the spell broken at last.

It seemed that the geyser had erupted with unusual force. The French tourists had managed to retreat just in time—and if the stranger hadn’t pulled her back, the entire fountain of water that had gushed out of the earth would have come down right onto her, completely drenching her.

Even so, enough of the water had hit her that her hair was completely wet, drops dripping constantly into her eyes. Her parka had managed to withstand the water, but her pants were wet.