Page 30 of Dragon Heir

Before I lose my courage, I turn in his arms. The edge of the wooden bar presses into my back, but before Pax can step away, I slide my arms around his neck and link my hands.

“What are you doing?” he asks, looking guarded but just a bit pleased, his green eyes lighting up. As our gazes lock, I can see the longing there. The heat between our bodies is undeniable, unrelenting. I want him, and I know he wants me. I know it. And I have to do this before we start drinking. If things go wrong, I can drown my sorrows afterwards, try to forget this night ever happened.

“I’m kissing you,” I whisper, as my heart climbs into my throat.

“We can’t,” he mouths, though it’s too loud to hear him in the tavern. Still, he sways forward until our bodies are flush with each other.

“Why not?” I ask, my lips brushing across his ear.

A shudder passes through his body, and his hands slide to my hips, squeezing me to him. I’m rewarded by feeling him growing hard against me. He wants me as much as I want him. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, breathing in the scent I put on earlier. “I can’t say.”

“Try,” I press, almost pleading.

He grips my waist, his gaze locking on mine. “Nessie…I can’t. I want to, but I can’t explain it.”

“You wouldn’t be no strings to me either,” I say, standing on tiptoes and leaning into him. “You would be all strings, Pax—”

“Stop,” he says.

Fuck.

I slide down to my heels and out from his embrace, all of the energy and excitement leaking out of me. Pax admitted that he’s attracted to me, but his feelings clearly aren’t romantic, and he doesn’t want to lose our friendship. It’s clear as day. I had to be plain deluded to not see it. I’m trapped between an urge to flee far away from Pax and my feelings for him, and a need to reassure my friend that I’m always going to be his friend, even if he doesn’t want me the way I want him.

Leaning in, I wrap a hand around his forearm. I think I might be crying, and I hope I’m not. I want to keep it together so Pax doesn’t think I’ll fuck up our friendship because of my stupid crush. “It’s fine, Pax,” I say, even though it’s not even close to fine. “Just forget I said anything. Please?”

Pax’s hand covers mine, and when I look up into his eyes, they’re churning with emotion. His arms slide around me once more, pulling me closer and up toward his mouth. “I’m never going to forget what you just said to me,” he promises. “Not if I live a millennia. It would be impossible.”

His breath is a caress across my lips, making my knees melt.

“Then what?” I ask, too frustrated to keep it from my voice.

Pax seizes me into his arms, his voice a tormented growl I didn’t know this happy-go-lucky boy could produce. “Fuck them all, Nessie. It’s you and me. Always you and me. I need to tell you something, and then you can decide for yourself whether or not you still want me.”

“Are you crazy?” I run my fingers through his golden hair, letting out a shaky laugh. “Pax, nothing you could tell me could make me not want you.”

He leans down, but before our lips meet, an arm wraps around me from behind, and I’m yanked off my feet. The room blurs around me, and shouts and screams erupt. Chaos moves through the room like a wave, screams and chairs scraping and students running towards the doors.

“The Wild Hunt is here,” someone shrieks in panic, scrambling across the floor on hands and knees.

Say what now?

I buck and try to punch and kick back, but whoever is holding me is much bigger than me, and I’m dangling in the air. My stomach flips, end over end, and the world blurs and then comes into focus again and again, as if I’m seeing it through a heat mirage.

I curl my hand into a fist and punch back, my massive jewel ring connecting with something solid. The body holding me staggers a step, loses balance, and then my side smashes into cobblestone.

I scramble to my feet to find a very familiar man gaining his own footing before me. We’re in an alleyway a few blocks over from the tavern. How we got here so fast, I can only guess. I’ve suspected since the beginning that Sharp Tooth Bradley was a supernatural of some sort.

“Fuck off,” I growl.

He draws himself to his full height, facing me, and I wonder why he’s not attacking. I’m smaller than him, helpless, and alone. Instead he sidesteps around me, like a lion might circle its prey before going in for the kill.

“What do you want with me?” I yell at him, to which he almost looks surprised.

“I can’t believe it,” he drawls, looking amused. “You actually don’t know. I told him that you must be the greatest actress in the world, but no, you’re actually that oblivious. Incredible.”

My lips start to tingle, my throat burns, my shoulder aches, and I have no idea what he’s talking about. “You told who?”

“The dragon king.”