Firebreather 1: Firebreather by Marie Harte Page B

his eyes wide. “You’re a little annoyed, I take it?” Lea shook her head, trying to make sense of the anger consuming her. Ferin was hers, by right and by bond. And if that bitch thought she could come between them, she had another thing coming. Lea felt hot, hotter yet stronger than she’d ever felt in her life.
    “Lea? Lea?” Lucas’ calm slowly penetrated the fog of rage clouding her thoughts, and she blinked into his concerned gaze. “There you are.” He exhaled heavily. “Why don’t we see Ferin now. I think it’s time you and he had a good talk.”
    “Yes, why don’t we?” she said pleasantly, trying to figure out how best to deal with this situation.
    Lucas said little as they walked through the keep, while Lea’s mind raced. Think, remember what you know about the Dracon, and what Reem’s text said. The king needed a queen to continue the Dracon line.
    And once they bonded—no, mated—and she was impregnated, the species would flourish until the next Dracon king ascended the throne and found his mate.
    But the mating…she had no idea what that actually entailed. For a Dracon to mate with his own made sense, since he’d need to sire young. But humans and Dracon weren’t fertile together from what she’d read. So how the hell could she be the next queen? Moreover, how did everyone seem to know about it? Lucas’ girlfriends, the jeweler, and several other Dracon she’d bypassed while staying here had called her Draka.
    Why hadn’t Ferin told her? She remembered how he’d looked at her, tenderly, affectionately. And the way he touched her. With reverence, with love…. He’d been trying to tell her something important before Shino had interrupted them. Had that been it?
    The more she thought about it, the more she leaned toward that explanation. Which meant he accepted her, truly wanted her, as his mate. From all that she’d read, a king chose his future wife not out of necessity or duty, but for nothing less than love.
    She stopped suddenly, understanding making her lightheaded. Holy crap. Ferin meant for them to wed, which meant she, Lea Venlay, aka S. M. Ryans, would be living with the royal family. In an ancient Dracon keep. In the arms of her family’s “enemy.” Shit.
    “Lea? Everything okay?”
    “Fine, Lucas. Fine. Let’s find Ferin.” She ignored his curiosity and followed him toward Ferin’s room at the top of the keep. Lucas knocked once and opened the door upon Ferin’s “Enter.”
    “Lea.” Ferin stood and crossed the room, giving her a soft kiss. He must have read the turmoil within her for he frowned. “Lucas, would you give us a moment?”
    “Good luck,” he muttered to Ferin and left in a blur of speed.
    Ferin stared down at Lea, his hair mussed as if he’d been running his fingers through it. She noted a mountain of paperwork on a nearby desk, and wondered how stressed he might be feeling about everything.
    Financial advisor, ha. Ferin Dekker ruled the Dracon, and on his shoulders sat the responsibility for their future. And now, apparently, their future also sat on her shoulders.
    “What’s wrong, honey?”
    She stared at him, seeing the worry, the compassion, the love. The   evasion. Dammit, why was it so hard for him to simply tell her what she wanted to know?
    “Why does everyone keep calling me Draka?” There. She’d blurted it out.
    “This bothers you?”
    Again he avoided her answer, and she grew more irritated. If he meant for them to live together, to actually coexist as king and queen—
    her heart raced at the chance of a lifetime with the man she couldn’t help loving—he would need to understand how to communicate better.
    Staring up at him, she reached out and traced his lips with a finger, and that quickly, his eyes flared with desire.
    It was there she found her answer. In the bedroom, Ferin was never anything but honest. Perhaps she could teach him a lesson he wouldn’t soon forget. And in the process, cement the bond growing