Zanaikeyros - Son of Dragons (Pantheon of Dragons #1)(80)



Jordan started to sit up and turn around, but his arms prevented the movement. Instead, she tilted her head to the side, listening intently.

“Your life has been harsh and sometimes unfair, but you are, first and foremost, a survivor. In my observation, the injustice you prosecute is your own—your tragedy, your struggles, and your loss—and the need for a verdict that is just is your own need for a sense of balance…for a sense of fairness. If in the end, the guilty are punished and the innocent are set free, then there is hope that the scales can be balanced, that tragedy will not always be your lot. We all need something to believe in, Jordan, a way to make sense of our lives.” He sighed. “And I also caught a glimpse of Dan’s soul…before he joined the Cult. He grew up in a very rough neighborhood; he was no stranger to crime, but unlike you, he wasn’t, foremost, a survivor—he became a conman of sorts, a manipulator of people and facts. He learned how to get what he wanted by reading and influencing others. It is true that he chose the law in order to right the wrongs of his past, but his chief motivation was to be on the winning team…always on the winning side…and that’s what exposed his soul to the pagans. His desire to land on top. His ability to overlook whoever fell to the bottom.”

Jordan grew inscrutably still, inwardly and outwardly, and Zane didn’t have to read her thoughts to know what she was thinking—that’s what Dan had done with her, hiding the fact that he was married. He had found something “winning” to latch onto—something he had wanted more than his current life and marriage—and he had reached out to take it, consequences be damned.

“Angel of mine,” he continued. “I did what I did in that bunker for you, but also for me.” A cool breeze stirred all around them, creating a light, crystal mist over the hot tub, and Zane concealed a shiver of his own—he didn’t know if he could say the rest.

“How so?” she asked. And there was the lawyer again—always going straight to the heart of the matter.

Zane consulted the truth in his heart. “I did it because I wanted to give you something of true value. I did it because of the pain in your eyes. I did it because I wanted to please you; I wanted you to think more highly of me; and I wanted to win your trust. I did it, almost on an impulse, because I wanted you…to want me as well. And I had to betray everything I am—as a dragyri, as a warrior—in order to do it.”

Jordan cleared her throat. “You let Dan live because you wanted me to…like you?”

Zane started, taken aback by her bluntness.

That was not what he’d said—was it?

He chuckled, deep and low in his throat. “Baby, my lair-mates are going to pull my man card for this.”

She softened her voice. “Well, you don’t have a man card—you have a male card, so I guess your secret is safe.”

He smiled in retort, and then his tone turned deathly serious. “Jordan, I want you to know my true heart. I do. I allowed Dan to live because we are so very close to our date with the temple—and yes, because I already care deeply for you. You are the most stunning, intelligent, and desirable woman I have ever known, and I want you—by all the gods, I want you. But angel, don’t get it twisted.” He purposefully tempered his voice. “I am not Jaquar, and I intend to claim you by any means necessary.” He paused for the breadth of one heartbeat. “Yet and still, if you would only try… Just north of the Diamond Lair, there is a white sandy beach in a beautiful cove. At night, when the sun sets and the dragon moon rises, there’s fire in the water—the waves are like flames, undulating in the sea, in brilliant cascades of emerald, amethyst, and topaz…all the hues of the sacred stones. It will take your breath away, dragyra. Let me take you there, tomorrow night. Walk in the sands with me. Give me a chance to glimpse your heart.” Despite his determination not to push too far, he dropped his head and placed a tender kiss against the slope of her throat, just above her carotid artery—and his dragon stirred.

He needed to feed, and he would do it soon, perhaps later on in the week. What he would not do is ask for something so intimate, so personal and primordial…of Jordan.

Not right now.

She just wasn’t ready.

His fangs throbbed, and he nicked her skin, swirling his tongue over the small droplet of blood before cooling the abrasion with a thin blue flame. His beast growled, yet he kept his composure. “What say you, dragyra,” he nearly groaned. “Will you try with me? Will you go to the cove?”

He expected Jordan to bolt.

To jump from the lounger, hurtle the waist-high panel, and take off running along the deck, but as she often did, his dragyra surprised him.

She sat up slowly, turned around, and met his hungry gaze. “Your dragon is close to the surface, isn’t he—because of what I did, what I asked of you earlier?” She smiled faintly, and there wasn’t a star in the sky that could match her beauty. “Thank you, Zane. For hearing me in that bunker…for seeing me in that bunker…for saving Dan when you didn’t have to. Thank you for wanting me…to want you. It might be a place to start.” She reached out with a tentative hand and shyly cupped his cheek, brushing her elegant thumb against his strong, angular jaw. Then she leaned slowly forward and pressed a soft, chaste kiss on his mouth, quickly pulling away. “I will try, dragyri, although I can’t make any promises. I’m horrified, terrified, and beyond confused. But you tried for me, and I will try for you.” She paused, allowing her words to settle, and then she flashed a shy, girlish smile. “Do you mind if I text Macy—let her know that I’m still alive? She has to have seen the news by now.”

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