Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 61872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
“An emergency helicopter is on its way,” James reports. “The security team has initiated the fire safety protocol. They will stop the blaze, thanks to the fire-stopping technology you installed, and the village’s increased emergency budget.”
Gabriel says nothing. I can hear him blaming himself. I set a hand on his tensed forearm, but his expression doesn’t change.
Giampi returns with an armful of blankets and clothing. He and James murmur to each other.
At the end of the room, a black-clad man steps into the doorframe and raps on the gilt trim. “Sir,” he addresses Gabriel.
Gabriel starts to pull away, and I cling to him. I don't want to be too needy, but my insides are raw.
Gabriel passes a big hand over my head, his normal grace replaced by clumsiness. “I need to speak with my head of security.” He tucks the blanket around me, leaving him naked. “James?”
The butler comes to collect me. Gabriel’s handing me off whether I like it or not.
“I will prepare a place in the study for madame to rest,” James says.
“Go with Buttons,” Gabriel orders me softly. “You will be safe. Please.”
“Okay,” my voice shakes. There’s a blank void around Gabriel’s head, contrasting with the soft colors of James and Giampi’s auras. My dragon man is still a locked box, and I don’t hold the key. “Come to me soon.”
James sets me up in the library and finds me a pair of slippers and a change of clothes. I can’t sleep, so I sit and sip the tea he brought me, ignoring the plate of biscotti Giampi sent.
Dawn gilds the window frames before Gabriel finds me. He’s in a thick wool sweater and wearing a pair of pants that are tight across his ass and leave several inches of ankle exposed. Less like capris and more like they shrunk in the wash. I’ve fared better in soft sweatpants and a faded Forza Azzurri t-shirt. James must have raided his and Giampi’s closets to find clothes for us.
I sit up when Gabriel enters the room. The library is dark and quiet. James was going to turn on the gas fireplace, but I asked him to keep it off. Staring into the flames with the smell of smoke still clinging to my hair didn’t seem appropriate.
Gabriel stands in the doorway so long, he could be asleep on his feet. He’s staring at the empty fireplace. I ache to go to him, but something in his expression glues me to the couch.
“How’s the fire?” I ask.
“Contained.”
“And the tower?”
“Gone.”
“Gone?” The insides could turn to ash, but the tower was made of stone.
“The flames were too hot. The mortar gave way.”
How did the fire get so hot? I don’t ask.
“Dragon fire,” Gabriel murmurs. He’s still across the room, staring at nothing with ghosts in his eyes. “The dragon got loose for a moment while I slept.”
“Gabriel.” I hold out my hand to him.
He lurches forward. Instead of sitting down and gathering me into his arms, he falls to his knees on the carpet in front of me and lets his head fall into my lap.
I hunch over him, pressing him close. My fingers dig into his thick black hair.
“My treasure,” His voice is muffled. “You could have died.” His shoulders are shaking.
“I know. I had a dream that I was dead.” I can barely get the words out. “Your dragon–”
“He did this.” Gabriel uncoils and pulls away too fast for me to reach. He moves in a blur, rising and pacing across the room fast as a bullet shot from a rifle. His hair is wild. “He killed you.”
It seems strange that he says he instead of I. That there’s this separation between his two sides. That’s what the gold cuffs in my vision with the dragon are about.
“No.” I try to stand, but my legs are too shaky. “I’m okay.”
Gabriel jerks his head back and forth. “The first time. He killed you.” Red and gold light dances over his hair. There for a moment and gone the next. Like flames snuffed out by darkness.
“You died,” he says, his voice eerily cold. “You were my mate, and you died. You were born hundreds of years ago.”
My hand’s over my mouth. I don’t remember putting it there. I lower it. “I don't remember.”
“Thank Fate.”
I bite my lip. I believe in past lives, so I'm open to what he's saying. If I lived hundreds of years ago, I would have to die to be reincarnated. It would suck to remember my death.
I prop myself up on the couch arm and head on unsteady legs towards him. He doesn’t turn. I put my arms around him and press my face into his back. For a while, we just breathe together.
“Tell me. Tell me everything.”
The library is silent but for a ticking grandfather clock in a room three doors over. I jump at a soft whoosh and the smell of gas. The library fireplace cut on automatically.