Page 16 of The Dragon's Omega
She ignored all three offers, however, as she gawked at the peaks and valleys of my hoard. “You have more than this?”
“In this location or…” I grimaced when the pain in my chest sharpened. “… in general?”
“Uh, both?”
“Yes.” I gritted my teeth and slowly eased onto my back. “To both. A great deal more.” She rounded on me, eyebrows practically in her hairline, and I managed a thin grin in return. “I’m a very old dragon, sweet omega. Tales of my kind and our gold are… not exaggerated, though m-many wish they were.”
She planted her hands on her hips, then let out a long, purposeful breath. Her perfume splashed us both in frantic, chaotic bursts, the sandalwood especially prominent. Then, clearing her throat, she lifted her damp, frizzing hair and fanned the back of her neck. Only when she caught me watching, smitten with every detail, did she drop that black mane into place.
“Okay.” She massaged the pink in her cheeks, gaze darting about. “So, your heart?”
I pointed to a massive wooden chest set against the wall behind her, just next to the entrance. “There. Inside.”
This was the greatest trust a dragon could put in another. As I watched her hurry over and heave the lid up, no hesitation, all business, I knew this moment could make or break us. The fog hadn’t detected any ill will, but Lianna had now seen a fraction of my hoard with her own two eyes. She knew there was more. She could take my heart, my power, and go.
“Okay?”
Instead, she crouched in front of the open chest, her side profile showing off pursed lips and a furrowed brow. What greeted her would give anyone pause: old animal skin hides, broken sandals, rope, fishing nets, and rusted tools—as if I hadn’t used magic to build this underground kingdom.
“The small wooden box”—I motioned toward her with a weak flick of my hand—“with the dragon painted on its top.”
She rooted around for a few moments, elbows deep in the mess and the dust, offering an excellent view of her ass. My mouth watered again, cock stirring at the thought of grabbing hold of each full cheek and squishing the flesh between my fingers, bruising her, marking her, making sure she would feel my affections for days after.
“This one?” Lianna whirled around, a small keepsake box in her hand. Made of polished birch, it had followed me from hoard to hoard through the centuries.
My heart skipped a beat at the sight of it. “Y-yes.”
She traced the design on top with one finger. “Did you paint this?”
“I did.” I wasn’t born gold. In fact, my original scales blended seamlessly with the fjords, awash with greens and browns and subtle blues, changing ever so slightly with the seasons. When I put paint to birch, I had wanted to commemorate my induction into the Deathless Gods, in case the Aesir ever changed their minds.
“It’s lovely.” Lianna sounded quiet, thoughtful, her perfume leaning into the warmer, cozier scents as she squinted at my handiwork. “The detailing, I…” Her head shot up, gaze crash-landing on me. “I-I paint.”
“Do you?” My next breath was the harshest yet, but I maintained my charmed smile. “I would very much… like to see your work.”
She went bright red, then lifted the lid. A few confused beats passed. “Uh, Vidar…?”
“Bring it here.”
My omega tiptoed over and carefully placed the box at my side, then scampered back like it was a newly pinless grenade. Once again, the mundane awaited anyone who somehow made it this far, the birch box full of loose screws, nails, tacks—all broken, twisted, and bent. Iron. Silver. Gold. A mini pencil from the time I tried golfing.
Dullest activity in all the realms, honestly, the company on the green even worse.
Sifting through yet another of my collections, I hunted until I found it. Then, relieved beyond measure, I held it up for her to see: a thimble.
Lianna frowned. “It’s… so little.”
“It’s deceptive,” I corrected. Plain, boring, metal—it would never catch a collector’s eye. But even as I held it, power heated my thumb and forefinger. “Some dragons are so ostentatious about their hearts. One look and you know where they are hiding their power, thus defeating the purpose.
“If a h-hunter steals a dragon’s heart, they steal his power, Lianna. It will consume them, yes. Men and monster alike were not built to take what we dragons carry in our blood. Still, for a time…” I cradled the thimble in my palm, holding it out for us both to see. “The owner of a dragon’s heart, dragon o-or otherwise, will possess all the power of a dragon. All our abilities. All that we stored away to move through this world undetected.
“In the wrong hands, the heart of a dragon is a very dangerous thing.”
I scooped it up and slipped it onto the tip of my pinkie. Sunlight flooded my veins. The next breath came pain-free as the bruise across my chest dispersed. Adrenaline doused my blood, and I popped up on an elbow, growling, fixed on her.
In mere minutes, I would be what she needed, who she needed, the alpha my Lianna deserved.
Now and forever.