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  “I’m amaze it survived the fall like that,” said Emily.

  “It’s a very well made vehicle.” Rovik effortlessly climbed the lowest branch and tugged something from the broken window. He coaxed the door open and stuff fell out. He jumped down and rummaged through his belongings. He found his overnight bag and a few essentials among the debris.

  Emily skulked around while Rovik got dressed. He called her over when he found extra boots. They were several sizes too big but they were better than the current state of her footwear. With socks and tightly laced, she could navigate the terrain with ease. Rovik climbed up to the SUV to extract a few more things. He’d stowed various item in inconspicuous places. He retrieved a wad of cash, spare gun and ammo, and a burner phone.

  “You hungry?” he asked.

  “Now that you mention it, I am.”

  He gave her a power bar. “I can’t find any bottled water or drink. Sorry. Please bear with me until we find a river or stream.”

  “Are we going to sleep in the woods tonight?” Emily shivered inwardly. She disliked the idea of spending the night outdoors where the creepy crawlies roamed free.

  “I’m afraid so. We only have an hour or so of daylight left. Tomorrow morning we’ll head to the nearest road and hitch a ride.”

  “Do you know which way we must go?”

  “Yes. I have a compass built into my head.” He shouldered his bag, ready to leave.

  Rovik turned out to be an excellent outdoorsman, perhaps, it was the nature of his beast. He had no trouble locating a nearby stream where they made camp for the night. The water originated from a spring so it was safe enough to drink as is. They washed off the grime of the day. Emily gathered wood for a fire while he disappeared to hunt something for dinner. As she struggled to light the fire using two sticks and dried leaves like she’d seen on survival television shows, he returned with a wild hare, and some kind of bird.

  Emily cringed. “Poor Mr. Wabbit. Are we really going to eat him?”

  “Don’t worry, they taste like chicken.”

  She watched in fascination as Rovik conjured fire with dried twigs and stone. He deftly skinned and prepared his catches for dinner. She didn’t really want to eat Mr. Wabbit but when the meat ripened on the fire, the aroma smelled tantalizing enough to make her give in to her hunger.

  And they certainly didn’t taste like chicken.

  The bird, he said was called a grouse, native to North America, fared a little better. She wasn’t a big fan of game meat. After eating, Rovik made a bed pallet with spare clothes from his bag and called her to rest.

  Without reservation, she crawled onto the makeshift bed and settled next to him. She used Rovik’s bag as a pillow and a large flannel shirt as a blanket. Rovik added more kindling onto the fire as the temperature grew cold. Watching the crackling fire, she reflected on how crazy her day had been.

  She remembered when she woke this morning, she’d accepted her fate that before the night ended, she’d become Mrs. Dwayne McGuire, and now was the time she would share the bed with him.

  She’d dreaded it with every bit of her soul.

  Dwayne with his sugary smile and soft voice. But his eyes never matched his gesture. They were cold and sometimes filled with loathing. He hated when she saw that look, and she didn’t even know why. She’d never done anything wrong to him. Or to the McGuires.

  But no more.

  She couldn’t believe she was finally free.

  “Emily, do you remember anything about your birth family?” Rovik asked out of nowhere. “Your mom and dad?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  He didn’t answer her right away. His expression was fixed in consternation. “A dragon doesn’t usually insist on claiming another’s mate. That’s not how it’s done. They won’t find happiness like that.”

  “Oh? Why?”

  “Soon or later, fated mates will find a way to be together. Nothing good ever comes from claiming someone who doesn’t belong to them.”

  Her interest piqued. She leaned on her side, staring at him. “You keep saying mate. What is this all about?”

  “Mate?” Rovik stroked her hair. “Dragons can go through life and breed with others without finding their fated mate, but they’d be the happiest when they found their true one. Dragons can live a very long life and being with someone who wasn’t meant to be can be unbearable.”

  “Oh? How old are you, Rovik?”

  “In dragon age, I’m considered young.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “I’m going to be thirty-three in human years.”

  “That’s nothing. In dog years, you’d be like,” Emily quickly calculated, “one hundred sixty-five years old.”

  Rovik chuckled.

  “How old do you think Sheriff Norman is?” Emily mused. “He said he’s fifty-five, we celebrate his birthday every year, but sometimes I have a feeling he’s much older than that. Norman’s got ancient eyes.”

  “Oh. He’s quite old. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was around during Lincoln’s time.”

  “President Lincoln?” Emily widened her eyes. ”You’re kidding me.”

  “I kid you not.”

  “How about Dwayne?”

  “Oh, Dwayne’s basically a hatchling. Same as you.”

  “Are you saying I’m not a human?”

  Rovik stared directly into her eyes. “I don’t think you are.”

  “That’s ridiculous. I’m a normal human being. I wasn’t hatched. I got my birth certificate from a hospital. You’d think the hospital would issue paperwork if my mom had an abnormal delivery?”

  “I have a feeling your mother was simply domesticated.”

  “She—what?”

  “Dragons who don’t shift into their true form most of their life will lose their ability to change, especially when they inter-breed with humans. Because they spend too much time in human form, the females will give birth instead of laying eggs.”

  Emily guffawed. “Rovik, that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard.”

  Rovik joined her laughter. “I know. It’ll take you some time to get used to it. That’s why I wondered if you remembered anything about your family before you lived with the McGuires.”

  “Well…” Emily wrinkled her brows. “Like I’ve told you before, I never knew my dad and Mom refused to talk about him no matter how often I asked. Dad was a taboo subject in our household. Mom said she was the only child, Grandpa and Grandma had passed away when she was in high school.” She let out a tiny shrug. “I don’t know. Mom didn’t like talking about family. She got depressed when I tried to get her to open up. So I stopped asking when I got older.”

  “Did she ever mention close friends who might know your family?”

  She thought hard. “No,” she finally surrendered. Nothing came up no matter how she tried to recollect her childhood memories. “Sorry.”

  Rovik drew a long breath. “That’s okay. I think I know someone who could help us.”

  “Who?” A glimmer of hope blossomed inside her heart. She had long wanted to connect to her own roots.

  “My parents.” Rovik made an expression of distaste.

  She nudged him hard on his side, laughing. “What’s up with that?”

  “Nothing. It’s a Schwarzen thing.”

  “A what?”

  Rovik explained the love-hate dynamic within the Schwarzen dragon breed, especially between father and son. They were naturally repulsed by one another, due to their primal instinct back to the ancient time.

  But Rovik’s father worked hard to ignore that tendency. He was able to function normally. Still, their relationship was taxing, and it escalated when Rovik was coming of age. Two grown Schwarzen males in the close proximity had proven challenging. Their instinct demanded they tear out each other’s throat to assert dominance. It didn’t matter that they were father and son.

  “As to my knowledge, there aren’t many Schwarzen dragons left in the world. I think my dad knows someo
ne who keeps records about our kin. Some kind of registry dated back to the Roman Empire. If we were to ask, we might have success in recovering your ancestry.”

  “That sounds interesting, but you’ve forgotten the fact that I’m not a dragon. Hello, I’m a human. I can’t go flying reptile like you do.”

  “Ah. That’s the thing. A dragon’s fated mate always falls within the same breed. A male Blutrot would never be interested in a female Schwarzen. They said this was the breed survival instinct; dragons are very competitive. They preferred to keep the bloodline pure for superiority. Humans are the only species dragons don’t mind intermingling with. Don’t ask me why.”

  Interesting. But still it didn’t appease her curiosity. “How do you know I’m your mate?”

  Rovik rolled her onto her back. He moved quickly, she barely registered he had suddenly straddled her. He brushed his lips over hers. “I just know. I can’t really explain it in a sense, but I can feel you calling me. Don’t you feel the same?”

  Her heart thundered.

  Rovik’s intense gaze wrapped her in pure heat. A low moan curled out of her throat when he kissed her. Slowly. She returned his kisses. He groaned with delight and mauled her mouth. He licked her teeth. Nibbled her bottom lip. Upper lip. Then he pushed his tongue into her mouth, sweeping over her palate. Breath quickened. Heat radiated. Lust burned.

  Goodness. Why is it I like kissing him so much?

  Unlike Dwayne. Oh, please don’t think about Dwayne. Rovik was the opposite.

  Rovik made her drunk with desire.

  She unconsciously let out a loud moan when he licked the side of her jaw. Electric shivers coursed down her spine. Morsels of pleasure burst under her skin, bright like sparklers.

  Just as she was thinking about what she could do to make this make out session better, Rovik stopped.

  He tensed, listening.

  Without a word, he sat up and put out the fire with dirt.

  He then settled back next to her.

  Emily snuggled closer to him, clutching his shirt. “What’s going on?” she whispered.

  “I don’t think we’re alone. Sorry about the fire. Better to be safe.”

  Her anxiety returned. Damn, she cursed in silence. Just when things were getting interesting. She pressed her cheek to his chest. Dwayne and Norman couldn’t be looking for them, could they? She hoped not.

  In this position, she could hear Rovik’s heartbeat. It calmed her.

  It’s okay, she thought. With Rovik by her side, she’d be safe.

  She was sure of it.

  Chapter Five

  Emily woke at the first sign of dawn. Sunlight peeked through the thick forest canopy and banished the thin mist of fog permeating from the cold ground. Her sleep had been fitful. Her dreams had been filled with unpleasant monsters. She startled up every so often, but a quick, reassuring pat from Rovik had her drifting back to sleep.

  She suspected Rovik hadn’t had a wink of rest either. Each time she opened her eyes he seemed to be awake. She was worried that Dwayne or his father would attack during their vulnerable hours. She was glad they didn’t.

  Rovik made a small fire and grilled two small birds for breakfast. Normally, she wasn’t a big fan of weird delicacies, but hunger changed everything. She happily accepted her roasted bird and silently ate. Surprisingly, it tasted better than the grouse last night.

  “It’s baby pheasant,” Rovik told her. “I found them nearby.”

  Poor baby pheasant. But it tasted so damn good. She guessed as the top predator in the food chain, she showed her respect by consuming it all. Nothing wasted.

  She washed her face in the stream and took care of her feminine need. They were ready to move afterward.

  Rovik tried to contact his friend with the burner cell, but they were out of range. They walked for several hours until they found a road and hitched a ride on a farm truck to a nearby town. There, Rovik called his partner Jericho for an update and asked him to provide air transportation in Burlington.

  While she sipped tea at a local diner, Rovik found a guy who was willing to drive them to Burlington. As soon as Emily finished her drink, they trundled up in an old king cab, heading to their destination.

  She was listless during the ride, nodding on and off. They reached Burlington as the sun set beyond the horizon. Their driver dropped them at the Burlington airport where a chartered small engine plane waited to take them to New York.

  Still groggy from the long ride, Emily climbed through the hatch and settled down. Half an hour later, the plane took off from the runway and soared into the sky.

  Emily pressed her nose against the glass, staring at the darkness. It had been forever since she flew. The last time she boarded an airplane was with her mother from Anchorage, Alaska. She felt nostalgic and a little sad.

  She startled when Rovik suddenly held her hand, as if he could sense the melancholy in her heart. She smiled and squeezed his hand. The sadness slowly melted. A realization dawned in her mind that Rovik always cared for her comfort. She had just met him but it felt like she had known him for a long time. That made her wonder if she was connected to him because fated mates were real.

  How absurdly delicious.

  She drowsed again and woke up when they touched down in LaGuardia, New York. Jericho waited for them.

  “So, this is your mate, huh?” Jericho proffered his hand. “She’s too pretty for you, Stromheim—you lucky bastard.”

  Emily shook his hand. His grip was tight and confident. His demeanor was cheery and friendly. She liked him immediately. She wondered if Jericho was a dragon too—she couldn’t tell.

  Rovik had an apartment in Manhattan, and it was quite posh. They headed straight there after stopping at a fast food restaurant for a late dinner. Rovik showed her the spare room and gave her a few toiletries he had and a change of clothes. His clothes, of course. He promised he’d take her shopping in the morning.

  She was so happy at the prospect of a long hot bath. As Rovik and Jericho were in serious discussion, she soaked in Rovik’s big Japanese hinoki tub, unwinding. She washed off all the grime from their adventure, and then shampooed her hair. By the time she climbed out, her skin resembled dried prunes. With a full belly and clean from head to toes, she couldn’t keep her eyes open for long. After donning Rovik’s oversized tee, she curled under the blanket.

  She was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

  She cracked an eye open when the sun was high. For a moment, she thought she was still in Fairlee and she succumbed into a familiar dread. But no, this wasn’t her room. The heavy trepidation quickly evaporated when she remembered her crazy wedding adventure, then noticed she wasn’t alone in the bed.

  She found Rovik asleep next to her, one arm propped behind his head. A cellphone on his stomach along with a printed to-do list. It seemed he had been working when drowsiness called and decided to take a quick snooze.

  Yeah, but why doesn’t he sleep in his own room?

  Not that she minded.

  Rovik was within her reach and fast asleep, she could ogle him as much as she wanted. No worries that he might catch her watching.

  Emily stealthily adjusted the comforter and snuggled closer, seeking his body warmth. He didn’t stir. His chest fell and rose in steady beats.

  For a guy, his lashes were too lush; she was a bit jealous. And his lips were too sensual. Her cheeks heated when she thought of their first kiss. She couldn’t forget it. The way he made her heart race. His searing touches. She liked it so much, she actually craved it.

  She blinked.

  Her skin was flushed. Every inch of her body tingled with salacious awareness. As close as they were now, anything could happen. Naughty things. Wicked things she had only fantasized about before. She used to wonder how it would be to have a lover other than Dwayne. The notion used to make her depressed. But now that she was free and Rovik was so close at hand…

  She reached out, to touch him—

  He caught h
er wrist. Rovik smiled and opened his eyes. “Hello, gorgeous. You’re up?”

  Emily tried to pull her hand back but Rovik wouldn’t let her. He brought it against his cheek then nuzzled the back of her hand.

  Her heart beat faster. The sensation from the stubbles of his jaw and chin awakened the longing need within.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  She glanced around the room, looking for a clock. She didn’t find any. “What time is it?”

  “Almost noon. Hungry?”

  She was. But she didn’t want to give up the comfy bed with this ridiculously gorgeous man next to her. “Not really.”

  Her stomach chose the perfect time to betray her. It growled. Damn, traitor!

  Rovik laughed. His voice rumbled. Deep, throaty, and rich to the ears. Very masculine. “Come to the kitchen and I’ll make you a sandwich. I had someone grocery shop for me earlier. Do you like ham or chicken?”

  So you’re not on the menu? Damn!

  Emily thought for a second. Food or cuddle?

  She’d eaten sandwiches before, plenty of times, but she never had the opportunity to snuggle with a hot guy—a guy she actually liked. “Maybe later,” she decided. Snuggle won. Wheee!

  “Oh?” Rovik’s dark eyes widened. “Do you have something in mind?”

  She realized his eyes weren’t completely black. The irises gave off a bluish hue and the pupils were speckled with silver. Simply breathtaking. “Uh, I don’t know.” She fingered the stitching line on his Henley shirt. It hugged his muscular frame. He didn’t have an ounce of fat on him, all ripped and toned. He paired the Henley with black lounge pants. No socks. He looked mouthwateringly sexy. “Do you have something in mind?” she whispered coyly.

  The amused look at the corner of his lips became a full-blown smile.

  “Oh, I do. I have a thousand naughty things I want to do to you.”

  With a quick pull, she found herself in his embrace. He rolled her onto her back, and he lowered his body on top of her. Her breath stalled in her throat. He was so close, blanketing her with his warmth. He wedged his elbows next to her head. His breath was on her neck.