Page 14 of Kiss of Embers
“Late arrival.”
“…probably mated.”
“Just entered this morning.”
“Dragons.”
The crowd in front of me parted like a sea split down the middle. On the other side of the clearing, two men emerged from the jungle, their long strides eating up the ground.
The hair on my nape lifted. For some reason, my heart rate sped up. In my peripheral vision, Brader’s lips continued to move. But I couldn’t hear him. My senses narrowed to the newcomers, who reached the edge of the clearing.
More heads turned in their direction. Competitors melted out of their way. One of the men was slightly taller than the other, with black hair swept back from a broad forehead. His companion sported a crop of chocolate-brown waves. Even from a distance, power rolled off the pair.
Dragons.I’d never seen one in person. Their numbers had dwindled over the years. They were rumored to be possessive. Obsessive. When my grandfather was young, the other Firstborn Races hid their women to stop the dragons from hunting them—and stealing them.
My heart pounded. Only half aware of what I was doing, I backed up a step.
The men stopped. They gazed around the gathering. Then, as one, they frowned.
Turned their heads.
And looked directly at me.
Chapter
Four
FINN
Recognition slammed into me, the force of it so powerful it knocked me back a step. Struan obviously felt it, too. He froze, his attention on the woman across the clearing.
Ours.
At last, fate had delivered our female into our hands. And she was perfect. Tall and built like a swimmer. Or maybe a runner. In any case, her legs went on forever. Her white shirt molded to a pair of high breasts that looked just big enough to fill my palms. A ponytail the color of wheat cascaded over her shoulder. As I stared, an exquisite scent hit my lungs.
Winter forest…and something sweet enough to eat.
My body responded, my dick pressing hard against the front of my pants. It washer. The woman Struan and I had spent a century searching for. My fangs ached as they threatened to descend from the little pockets in my gums. Two kinds of hunger built within me, the craving for blood and sex making my mouth water.
Male voices drifted around me. Struan and I were causing a stir with our arrival, but I was only vaguely aware of the sharp looks and hostile stares. The demon on the platform stopped speaking as the crowd grew more restless. I couldn’t summon asingle shit about that, either. Not with my woman close enough to scent. I dragged a breath into my lungs, eager to identify the elusive, feminine fragrance.
A second later, it hit me.Apple blossoms.My woman smelled like apple blossoms. And snow-frosted pine. The latter made a sort of exasperated delight course through me. Because that forest scent marked her as a werewolf. Apparently, fate had decided I neededtwoof the notoriously stubborn beasties in my life.
“Do you see her?” the first beastie rumbled.
“Of course,” I said, moving closer to Struan, who looked equal parts lovestruck and savage as he stared at our female. She stared back, her delicate brow furrowing.
In my peripheral vision, the demon on stage waved his arms. “Order, please! Ladies and gentlemen, I must have order!”
“Who’s that wanker speaking to her?” Struan growled, still fixated on our woman.
“A dead man,” I muttered, eyeing the man who hovered at her shoulder. Tall and blond, he looked agitated as he clearly tried to engage her in conversation. Our woman ignored him, and approval surged in my chest. The approval soured when a massive gargoyle stepped in front of her and pinned me with a hard look.
Struan growled again. Several of the competitors clustered around us backed up.
“Order!” the demon bellowed. A goddess with glowing skin stood next to him. She put a hand to one side of her mouth and spoke to him in a stage whisper.
“Just a friendly heads up, Bolveg, the insurance policy covering the Games has exclusions for brawls.”