Mated to the Fire Dragon (Elemental Mates 4)

Chapter Seven: Alyx

They'd made it. They'd escaped the fire dragons and the volcano.

Alyx's heart was still pounding as though she'd just run a marathon. And in a way, she had.

Her body seemed to be functioning on pure adrenaline. She'd never run so fast, or for so long, in her entire life.

But then, being pursued by a torrent of scalding magma was a lot more effective than the ripped personal trainer she'd booked last year, and whom she'd promptly deserted after three sessions.

It wasn't even that he'd said anything unkind about her obvious lack of stamina or her not-ripped body. The guy had been fun—and he'd been fun to look at. But it was hard to find the energy after another twelve-hour day at work, because her boss had sent her yet another last-minute assignment that absolutely had to be done before morning.

She’d tried to make up for it by virtuously munching on carrot sticks while at work. But when she got home late and exhausted, sometimes she just had to treat herself to half a pint of ice cream.

In any case, it wasn't as if her hot fitness guru would have been able to outrun an erupting volcano either.

It should have been impossible to escape. Outrunning a wave of magma was something that happened only in movies, and she was no Indiana Jones.

On the other hand, as strange as it seemed, she apparently had a fire dragon protector now.

Awed, Alyx smoothed her hand over the scales that covered Braeden's body. They were of an orange-red hue, like flames, and they were comfortably warm. They felt smooth, like well-polished metal, and not slimy or spiky at all.

Riding on his back wasn't as terrifying as it had been at first, now that she had time to relax. For some weird reason, she felt utterly safe and secure, even though there were no seat belts and no airline safety instructions.

When she looked up, she saw that half the sky had darkened. A giant cloud of smoke had risen into the sky, while the volcano kept spitting torrents of lava.

I wonder what the news will say about that. Maybe this is it. Maybe everyone will realize that dragons are real—and that they're dangerous.

At least the fire dragons who'd kidnapped her.

Now that she finally saw the sun and the sky again, she was ready to admit that she'd been wrong about Braeden. He'd done exactly what he'd promised her. He'd rescued her.

And he'd fought Steele himself to keep her safe...

Her hand was still resting against Braeden's neck. Now she began to feel a wave of weariness—not her own, although she was tired from her long flight.

No, the exhaustion she felt vibrated against her hand. It was like something was pulling at her—or as if she heard a distant echo.

Braeden's tired. Braeden's hurt...

“Are you okay?” she called out, even though he was still a dragon.

The wind was cool against her face, but even so the air she breathed tasted like smoke and ashes on her tongue.

For some reason, she felt a surge of warmth against her hand. It was faint, but it prickled gently against her skin, soothing her nerves a little.

Braeden was reassuring her. There was strength in him. And although she still didn't understand how she could just feel these things, she realized that he'd fly her to safety, no matter what the cost to him would be.

“Okay,” she said out loud, still gently rubbing his neck. “You're the dragon here. Just take care of yourself, okay? I don't want to drop out of the sky.”

Another flicker of warmth against her skin. She could almost hear him laugh in her mind.

Which was weird. Had she ever heard him laughing before? How did she know what his laugh would sound like?

He'd have a nice laugh, she decided tiredly, finally allowing herself to rest against his neck. It would be warm and deep. Just how she liked it. He'd be the sort of guy who'd make a shiver run down her spine with his soft laugh.

Maybe he'd also be the sort of guy who wouldn't expect her to spend every evening in the gym and eat nothing but carrot sticks.

Because she liked carrots and veggies. But she also liked a nice, rare steak, or the comforting sensation of a bowl full of extra-cheesy mac and cheese. And there was nothing quite like the tiramisu that the little Italian place around the corner served...