signaled his guards before coming outside. He’d longed for a moment to himself with the woman who was obviously avoiding the ball room and its occupants.
“What’s your name?” he asked, needing to know.
A smile still played about her mouth as she extended a small hand in his direction. “Dara Fletcher. Formerly of Earth and outcast on Vovin.”
Another grin stretched his lips and Ry shook her hand, amazed by the softness of her flesh in comparison to the roughness of his own. He kissed her tiny knuckles. “Rylin.”
She arched a brow. “Just Rylin? Like a celebrity with one name.”
He didn’t know what a celebrity was. “Rylin, King of the Black Dracol.”
She pressed her lips together, mirth dancing in her eyes.
Ry’s lips twitched in return. “This means nothing to you, Dara?”
“Nope.” She snickered.
The sound relaxed tensed muscles. Since he’d received the mantle of the Black Dracol from the prior King, many females sought him out. The same females who had wanted nothing to do with him after his prior lira dissolved their relationship. Ry’s lips firmed at the thought.
It wasn’t his fault that his raptor’s essence failed to rise for Sana during their year together. No male had control over that. But Sana hadn’t given them or the mating a chance.
The shame of it had almost driven him to act on his rage and disappear for a deep sleep, but ultimately it was his Dracol’s will, and his other half did not wish to gift Sana with children. She belonged to Mikal now, shrewish nature and all.
“I do know Kings are important where I come from but not sure how that works here. With dragons being mythical and all.” Her teasing warmed him.
“Come.” Ry straightened, surprising himself by waving her over toward the opening in the balcony railing a few feet away. The large stone ledge only extended along one side of the building.
Dara followed him, her nose crinkled in curiosity. His raptor stirred within, catching Ry off guard since his other half had remained dormant at the last few functions like this. His dual nature was reserved for battle or sex. Strip back the layers of humanity and you were left with a Dracol’s raw, fire-breathing base nature. But this Earth woman nudged at his senses. Sex had been off the table for months, much to Ry’s frustration. But perhaps that was about to change.
Ry shook off the unusual yet pleasant feeling and walked right to the edge of the precipice before he noticed she’d left quite a gap between them. Doubt clouded her jewel colored eyes.
“Afraid, Dara?” he taunted.
She rose to the challenge beautifully, straightening her spine and aiming her dainty chin high enough to reach the purple clouds above.
Chapter 4
Dara tried to mask the hitch in her breath. A quick glance down assured her a tumble over the edge would pretty much end her chances of finding a husband. What with dying a horrible death on the rocks below and all. “What’d you have in mind, Rylin of the Black Dracol?”
Rylin removed his black shirt and folded it in even squares before laying it on the ground by his booted feet. His position revealed a fine row of glittering black scales that trailed down the center of his spine, following the path of his vertebrae from his nape to the waist of his pants.
Dara reacted without thought and stroked them. They were beautiful and cool to the touch. He glanced at her over his shoulder as her fingers swept over him. The sharp gaze he focused on her was predatory. Frightening.
“In Dracol culture, touching the King’s mantle is an intimacy reserved for a special lover or his lira .”
“Oh, sh—. Sorry.” Dara snatched her hand back, fingers tingling from the contact.
“No apology needed. I enjoyed it.” Rylin stared a moment longer, his eyes flickering from dark to light. After a pulsing silence where the air stalled in her chest, he leaned down and removed his black leather footwear.
Freed from the magnetic
“What’s your name?” he asked, needing to know.
A smile still played about her mouth as she extended a small hand in his direction. “Dara Fletcher. Formerly of Earth and outcast on Vovin.”
Another grin stretched his lips and Ry shook her hand, amazed by the softness of her flesh in comparison to the roughness of his own. He kissed her tiny knuckles. “Rylin.”
She arched a brow. “Just Rylin? Like a celebrity with one name.”
He didn’t know what a celebrity was. “Rylin, King of the Black Dracol.”
She pressed her lips together, mirth dancing in her eyes.
Ry’s lips twitched in return. “This means nothing to you, Dara?”
“Nope.” She snickered.
The sound relaxed tensed muscles. Since he’d received the mantle of the Black Dracol from the prior King, many females sought him out. The same females who had wanted nothing to do with him after his prior lira dissolved their relationship. Ry’s lips firmed at the thought.
It wasn’t his fault that his raptor’s essence failed to rise for Sana during their year together. No male had control over that. But Sana hadn’t given them or the mating a chance.
The shame of it had almost driven him to act on his rage and disappear for a deep sleep, but ultimately it was his Dracol’s will, and his other half did not wish to gift Sana with children. She belonged to Mikal now, shrewish nature and all.
“I do know Kings are important where I come from but not sure how that works here. With dragons being mythical and all.” Her teasing warmed him.
“Come.” Ry straightened, surprising himself by waving her over toward the opening in the balcony railing a few feet away. The large stone ledge only extended along one side of the building.
Dara followed him, her nose crinkled in curiosity. His raptor stirred within, catching Ry off guard since his other half had remained dormant at the last few functions like this. His dual nature was reserved for battle or sex. Strip back the layers of humanity and you were left with a Dracol’s raw, fire-breathing base nature. But this Earth woman nudged at his senses. Sex had been off the table for months, much to Ry’s frustration. But perhaps that was about to change.
Ry shook off the unusual yet pleasant feeling and walked right to the edge of the precipice before he noticed she’d left quite a gap between them. Doubt clouded her jewel colored eyes.
“Afraid, Dara?” he taunted.
She rose to the challenge beautifully, straightening her spine and aiming her dainty chin high enough to reach the purple clouds above.
Chapter 4
Dara tried to mask the hitch in her breath. A quick glance down assured her a tumble over the edge would pretty much end her chances of finding a husband. What with dying a horrible death on the rocks below and all. “What’d you have in mind, Rylin of the Black Dracol?”
Rylin removed his black shirt and folded it in even squares before laying it on the ground by his booted feet. His position revealed a fine row of glittering black scales that trailed down the center of his spine, following the path of his vertebrae from his nape to the waist of his pants.
Dara reacted without thought and stroked them. They were beautiful and cool to the touch. He glanced at her over his shoulder as her fingers swept over him. The sharp gaze he focused on her was predatory. Frightening.
“In Dracol culture, touching the King’s mantle is an intimacy reserved for a special lover or his lira .”
“Oh, sh—. Sorry.” Dara snatched her hand back, fingers tingling from the contact.
“No apology needed. I enjoyed it.” Rylin stared a moment longer, his eyes flickering from dark to light. After a pulsing silence where the air stalled in her chest, he leaned down and removed his black leather footwear.
Freed from the magnetic
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