He folded his arms and jutted out his jaw. “Go on.”
“I am sorry for running off. I can’t show you my dragoness because she will harm you. She is aware of my regard for you, but she dislikes you and would hurt you.”
He didn’t speak or move. Finally, he dropped his arms and cocked his head. “And your request?”
“Will you forgive my churlish behavior? Can we continue with our two days?”
“That’s two requests.” His face gave nothing away, but she caught a whiff of amusement, a salty-sweet confusing odor. “On the first—granted. I forgive you. We can negotiate the second.”
“Negotiate? For what? What do you want?”
“This.” His arm snaked around her waist, and he pulled her hard against him. She gasped in surprise, and he lowered his head. His spicy exotic breath caressed her face a moment before his mouth covered hers. His tongue teased apart the seam of her lips and then slipped inside. He tasted like he smelled—cinnamon and cloves, leather and musk, man and possibilities so far out of her reach, she could only dream. He was strength and concern, protection and risk, caution and foolhardiness.
He growled, and her body responded, limbs going loose and languid, stomach fluttering, her fyre swelling and flashing. She felt hot and cold, flushed and shivery.
His tongue coaxed a response with gentle stroking, emboldening her to nibble at his full bottom lip, examine the bluntness of his teeth, and press herself against him, liberated by the awareness no one would dare interrupt them. For once, she was grateful anyone who spotted her would run in the opposite direction.
Broad, strong hands spread over her back, tracing each little bump of her spine. Would he notice she had double the vertebrae humans did? He cupped her ass and pulled her tighter into the cradle of his hips, against the firm length of his arousal.
Her fyre swirled and danced. She felt alive with sensation. For the first time in eons, in this man’s arms, she lived.
“I can’t stay away from you,” he murmured against her lips. “Can’t deny you anything. I should, but I can’t.”
He had to though. When the voyage ended, when the ship set down, they couldn’t see each other again. “When we land—”
He rested his forehead against hers. “You don’t need to say it. I know it’s over when we get to Elementa. You have my word I won’t seek you out.”
His promise broke her heart, but if he violated his vow, she would have no choice but to have Prince T’mar send him back to Earth.
A misty vision swept over, ghosts shrouded in a cloudy future, but the truth was clear. He would meet a human woman, fall in love, sire children, live his humanly short but happy life, and she would tend the Eternal Fyre long after he, his children, his grandchildren, great-grandchildren, great-greats…ceased to walk the Earth.
Her fyre sparked with jealousy. Today and tomorrow are mine.
“Come with me. I have something to show you.” She pulled out of his arms but offered her hand. Humans held hands, didn’t they? She hungered for his touch, craved his lips on hers.
“Ah yes, our tour,” he said drily but clasped her hand. A dragon’s claws were many, many times larger than a human’s paw, but in her present form, her hand felt tiny in his. It was a pleasurable realization and sensation.
She peered up at him. “You’ll like this. I promise.”
“I was teasing. I enjoyed everything you showed me.” He paused. “Even the flex chamber. I’m sorry for the trouble it caused. I wouldn’t have asked to see it if I’d had an inkling it would upset your dragoness.”
“It’s all right,” she reassured him. “This isn’t the first time she and I have spit fire at each other.” With give and take, Draconians balanced their rational demiformas and their emotional, volatile dragons. However, tending the Eternal Fyre required a clear head and reason, necessitating the subjugation of her dragoness. Needs deferred grew into resentments. Neither one of us is living the life we desire, she thought.
“Why does she hate me?”
“It’s the circumstance. Not you.”
Oh, yes, it is. I hate him. Despise him. Loathe him.
A cloying sweet scent touched her nose, and she realized it emanated from her dragoness. Beneath the rage was fear.
I fear nothing!
“Perhaps she is afraid of change,” she replied.
He’d already changed things by intensifying her yearnings and desires. Cloistered in the temple with duty proscribing her life down to the smallest detail, each day rolled out the same as the previous one. The most powerful dragoness in the galaxy had less freedom than the lowliest Draconian citizen, than a visiting human. H’ry caused her to chafe at the restrictions.
Happiness was reserved for those whose lives belonged to them alone. The Eternal Fyre had claimed hers.
She worried she wouldn’t be able to forget H’ry, and a tolerable discontent would deepen into bitter unhappiness. However, it was a risk she was willing to take. She would grab every tantalizing morsel of happiness, no matter what it cost her in the future.
They reached their destination, and she released his hand to usher him through the wall opening. Inside the lyceum were dozens of split-back thrones, the gaps allowing for tails to fit through.
“Is this a theater?” he guessed.
“An observatory.” A commanding snap of her wrist cut the lights and turned gray-green walls, floor, and ceiling transparent, opening the chamber to an infinite black sea of stars. Surrounded by countless pinpoints of light from endless suns, they floated in space, the ship appearing to have disappeared beneath their feet. The sole opaque wall separating the observatory from the passage was rendered invisible by darkness.
“Holy shit!” He latched onto a chair back, as if
