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“I believe the point was to clear your mind and figure out what we should do about Zyros and Green Spring. I don’t want to distract you.” He leaned close, the tip of his nose grazing Caelan’s cheek. He brushed the lightest kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Caelan’s eyes fell shut and he let himself revel in that touch, memorizing the tingle and warmth that rose. He breathed in the scent of Drayce—sweat and a hint of wood smoke. And cold stone. He’d never noticed it before, but since they’d returned from the Isle of Stone, he swore there was a new layer to Drayce’s scent, almost like snow-covered granite. Maybe Drayce had lost it from being away from his home for so many years, but it was definitely there now and Caelan liked it.

“However,” Drayce drawled out with the slightest rumble to his tone. “I would be more than happy to distract you later tonight when we’re alone in our house.”

Oh, it was on the tip of his tongue to remind his sweet Drayce that they were very much alone right now. But there was another thought that was teasing his mind.

He pulled back a tiny bit and opened his eyes. “Have you noticed any difference in me since we left Brightspire?”

Drayce didn’t exactly look away, but he wasn’t exactly meeting Caelan’s gaze either after that question. He didn’t know if it was the answer that immediately sprang to mind or the ugly memory that Caelan had been brutally murdered when they were last in Brightspire that had Drayce reacting as he did.

“I’m assuming that you’re referring to more than the sword thing you can do now,” Drayce replied. His words were teasing and light, but his tone was almost strangled by a new tightness.

“Yes, more than the magic.” Caelan shifted closer and pressed a kiss to the edge of Drayce’s jaw, trying to help him relax. “Like I noticed after we left the Isle of Stone, you picked up a new scent. You smell like a snow-covered mountain in addition to wood smoke. I’m assuming that comes from being in your homeland.”

“Really?” His voice jumped higher, losing its tightness.

“Yes. I like it. We’ll have to return for visits, so you don’t lose this scent.” Caelan moved his mouth lower, pressing two more kisses to Drayce’s throat.

“That would be nice,” Drayce whispered and then fell silent. Caelan waited, content to nuzzle Drayce’s neck while he thought about the question he’d posed. Nearly a full minute passed with only the sound of the stream, the wind, and the buzzing of insects in the air before Drayce finally spoke. “You…you tingle.”

Caelan groaned and flopped onto his back. “If you’re not going to be serious—”

“I am being serious.” Drayce braced a hand by Caelan’s shoulder as he leaned over him. Caelan squinted against the brightness of the sun in the clear blue sky, trying to bring Drayce’s serious expression into focus. “When I touch your skin, it’s…there’s just this extra tingle that was never there before.”

He was beginning to regret he’d asked the question. Maybe it was better to not know. What if he’d changed and there was nothing he could do about it? What if Drayce didn’t want to be with him any longer? It was a big enough hassle dating and eventually marrying a king. But now he was supposed to be this god—or at least a godling. That had to be an even bigger headache for Drayce.

What if he didn’t want to get married anymore? Who’d want to spend the rest of their lifetime tied to a god?

“Does it bother you?” Caelan inquired, trying his hardest to keep his voice even and neutral.

Of course, Drayce saw right through him.

“No, babe!” His lover instantly wrapped him up tightly with both arms and rolled onto his back so that Caelan was forced to lie on top of him, his head resting on Drayce’s shoulder while his nose was against Drayce’s throat. “No, it doesn’t bother me at all. I swear. I…” His words were lost to a low groan. “Man, you’re going to think I’m so fucking weird.”

“Drayce, you’re holding a literal god in your arms. How much weirder could it possibly get?”

His oldest friend didn’t laugh like he’d expected. A distressed sound of frustration and maybe embarrassment escaped him. Caelan tried to lift up so that he could look Drayce in the eye, but the dragon tightened his arms, holding Caelan in place.

“It triggers my dragon instincts,” Drayce admitted in a low voice, as though Caelan had dragged the words out of him.

“What?”

Drayce moaned again. “I don’t know how else to explain it. I’ve never had this happen to me before. When we first met, I was a little possessive of you because I was assigned to be your dragon. I was the protector of the Guardian of the Godstone. That in itself would trigger my instincts to see you as mine, but it was easy to sort of brush it aside and suppress it. As time went by, I barely even noticed it anymore.”


Tags: Jocelynn Drake Godstone Saga Fantasy