and the music of the glacier lulled her into a sleepy state. As she sagged against Silas’s wing, he shifted into human form and caught her before she could fall onto the ground.

She was barely aware of being carried into the cabin. When he set her on a bed, she rolled sleepily onto her side. He removed her slippers. She blinked as she felt him loosening the laces on the back of her gown.

“Silas?” The cabin was too dark for her to see.

“It’s all right.” He pulled a quilt up to her shoulders. “Get some sleep.”

The bed jostled as he stood. She heard him rummaging about, so she turned over to find out what he was doing. Apparently, with his dragon eyes, he was able to see.

Her heart lurched when a burst of fire shot into the fireplace, igniting the logs. As the flames brightened the room, she realized the fire had come from Silas. He was crouched in front of the hearth, naked.

“You started the fire?” she whispered.

He glanced at her. “I didn’t want you to get cold.”

She swallowed hard as he rose to his feet and turned away from her. The firelight caused flickering light and shadows to play along his broad back and firm buttocks.

“Get some sleep.” He walked to the door and opened it.

The bedsheets rustled as she sat up. “You’re leaving?”

He paused, halfway through the door. “You’ve been through a frightening ordeal, and I know you’re tired from working so hard. You probably want to be left alone.”

“Won’t you be cold outside?”

“I can shift to stay warm.” He stepped outside and closed the door with a creak.

Gwennore’s heart pounded. She was wide awake now. In a bed large enough for two. How could she leave him outside all night?

She placed her bare feet on the floor and stood. What was she thinking? If she invited him in, they would end up …

Did she dare? She spotted a wine bottle on a table across the room and pulled out the cork to take a sip. Could she do this? If she committed herself to Silas, would she endure a life of scorn from the people around her? Or would they learn to accept her? Would they eventually honor and respect her like Silas?

Why was she even thinking about that? She loved Silas. He loved her. Why would she let anything stop her from living the life that she wanted?

She wanted to love Silas. She wanted to love this beautiful country. And most of all, she wanted to love herself.

She was worthy of being loved.

Tears came to her eyes as she realized this was the culmination of her eleven-day adventure. She had learned to trust in herself. She would love Silas, marry him, and someday, she would become the queen of Norveshka.

Her hands trembled as she removed her gown, then lay it across the back of a chair. Wearing nothing but her shift, she opened the door.

The creaking sound made Silas turn his head to the side.

He stopped halfway to the cliff, his naked body gleaming under the light of the two moons.

“You shouldn’t spend the night outside in the cold,” she said softly.

His hands balled into fists. “Gwen, you don’t know how much I want you. If I go inside—”

“I do know.” She’d felt it when he’d opened his mind. “I’ve decided I want to fly. I heard you can take me higher.”

He turned slowly, his swollen groin coming into view. “You want me?”

Yes. She stepped back and with one swift move, she pulled her shift over her head. Before it could hit the floor, the door slammed, and Silas was pulling her into his arms.

His mouth covered hers with a devouring kiss that only left her hungry for more. The feel of his bare skin against hers was both glorious and torturous, for even while she loved it, she was instantly greedy for more.

Thank the goddesses, he seemed determined to give her more. After ravaging her mouth, he was kissing her face, her eyes, her neck. His hands caressed her shoulders, smoothed down her back, then cupped her rump to pull her tighter against him.

She gasped, arching her back as his swollen manhood pressed into her lower belly. He seemed so large. How would she ever—her thoughts scattered when he latched on to her breast.

Oh, could anything feel better than this? She moaned as he teased her nipple and flicked his tongue against the hardened tip. His whiskers rubbed against her tender skin, making her itch for more. She tangled her hands into his thick black hair and kissed the top of his head.

He glanced up at her, his eyes gleaming gold in the firelight.

“My dragon,” she whispered.

“I want to set you on fire.” He paused, the corner of his mouth curling up. “Before you start referring to yourself as a stick of butter, I should add that I didn’t mean that literally.”

With a smile, she rested a hand on his cheek. “I know. I trust you.”

He kissed her brow. “Rule number seven: Once you ignite the flame in a dragon’s heart, it will never burn out.”

“I like that.”

He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “You have my heart.”

“You have mine, too.”

He placed her hand on the hard shaft of his manhood, and when she gasped, he lifted his eyebrows with an innocent look.

The rascal. “That’s not your heart.”

His mouth twitched. “This is me, desperately wanting you.”

Her mouth fell open as she felt him growing even harder. And yet the skin was so soft. “Is it all right to touch you like this?”

“Of course.” His eyes glittered as he rubbed her hand up and down his shaft. “Sweetheart, I plan to touch you everywhere. Are you ready?”

Her thighs squeezed together as a hot needy feeling gathered between her legs. “Yes.”

He swooped her up and deposited her on the bed. Her skin tingled as he looked her over. “Where shall I start?”

When his gaze focused on the dark curls hiding her womanhood, she felt another rush

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