Hidden Dragon by Genevieve Jack
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Dragon mating bonds are eternal, but no one ever promised forever would be easy. Sylas and Dianthe might be the rebellion’s only hope of reclaiming Paragon for the rightful heirs, if they can find their way back to each other in time.
He joined her at the kitchen table and dipped his finger into the batter inside the powder-blue bowl she worked over. He stole a taste. “Mmmm. You’re making crizzle rolls. My favorite.”
“Sylas!” Dianthe smacked his shoulder. “That’s for the party tonight. You don’t want to show up at Elder Tree empty-handed, do you?”
“They won’t miss a mouthful.” He smacked his lips. “There’s something different.”
“I added a little lemon and fever fruit. Trader’s spice.”
He scooped up another dollop and popped it in his mouth. “Yes, the trader’s spice makes it,” he mumbled around his finger.
“Goddess have you, Sylas, I’m serious! Get your hands out of my bowl.” She turned the full weight of her heavily annoyed stare on him.
He took it as a challenge. “Hmm. If I can’t have the batter, what can I do to keep my mouth busy?” Reaching for her, he traced along the skin of her shoulder with the back of his nails.
She lowered her chin and stared up at him through impossibly thick lashes. “If I hadn’t known what I was getting into mating a dragon, I’d tell you to go suck an egg.” Wings fluttering, she allowed the spoon to clink against the side of the bowl. She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Lucky for you, I knew exactly what I was getting into mating a dragon, and I have far better uses for that naughty mouth.”
A deep, vibrating purr rumbled in his chest when her mouth met his, her full lips tasting of crizzle batter and the remains of her smile. He hoisted her up his body, felt her legs wrap around his hips. The world melted away. All his responsibilities, the horrors he’d seen over his years leading the rebellion, all of it retreated to the back of his mind and pure joy filled his heart. Goddess, he wanted her. Wanted to bury himself in her for days. Wanted to taste every inch of her.
He pushed the bowl aside and lowered his mate to the table, reaching for the buttons of her dress.
“Sylas, stop. Wait.” Dianthe’s lashes fluttered.
Sylas froze. Her eyes rolled back in the way they did when she was seized by a vision; her stomach tensed rigidly. A tremble rattled her body. He supported her with his arms as the magic rolled through her.
“What is it? What do you see?”
Her eyes widened in terror, her entire body quaking under him.
He held her tighter. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you. Tell me what you’ve seen.”
“Everfield… on fire. The Obsidian Guard is coming.”