Billionaire Dragon's Bride: BBW Paranormal Shapeshifer Dragon Romance

by Anya Nowlan

  “No, I’m not,” she agreed with a small voice, feeling her words get stuck in her throat. She seemed to be as if hurting him in some way, and the weight of that understanding was heavier than she’d dared expect.

  “I’ll try harder,” he said resolutely, standing up before she could say another word. “And please come have dinner with me tonight. I miss you at the table,” he said as he pushed the chair further, referencing to how she’d neglected to share a meal with him since the first night. She nodded meekly, wondering if her voice was ever going to return, and watched him walk out of the library, his dragon always almost visible in his gait.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Gemma

  Something felt different that night – and it wasn’t just that Gemma was wearing a dress – there was something in the air, Gemma thought, that made the mansion suddenly seem a lot less foreboding than it usually did. The dark passages and long hallways usually made her think of ancient times and hidden secrets, but tonight, the light of the setting sun that crept in through the tall windows and cast a glow on the art as she passed them, was somehow reassuring and full of hope.

  Gemma smiled slightly to herself, trying to keep from twisting the end of the shift dress she was wearing. She kept telling herself that she wasn’t dressing up or anything, and definitely not for Devon, but as she closed in on the dining room, even she had to admit that maybe it was for him. At least a little.

  Oh god, he’s getting to you, she thought to herself, though the note of worry she’d expected to feel was curiously absent. Could it be that she was actually enjoying his attention? No way, Gemma concluded, grinning a bit to herself.

  She pushed through the heavy door into the well-lit dining room, finding a table stocked with delicious treats and a heavy candelabra sitting in the middle of it all with three blue candles burning in it. Even their flame had a blue glint to it – no doubt one of those Bluewing oddities she’d been noticing more and more. From her studies, she had learned that every dragon family had a certain affinity to not only gold but also particular gemstones, and obviously for the Bluewings, it was sapphires. So, they liked keeping things around them that reminded them of the stones they felt were so precious.

  Gemma looked down at her dress, which was almost the exact same color of blue as the bracelet that Devon had given her earlier that day. So yeah, maybe she was trying to impress him.

  Devon looked up, two glasses in his hands and seeming not the least bit surprised to see her there though he had invited her every night, and she had neglected to show each time. She felt his eyes on her the entire way from the door to the dining table, and with each step she took, the intensity of his gaze seemed hotter on her skin. It was like he was undressing her with his eyes, and she had to admit, she didn’t mind it one bit – quite the contrary. Gemma bit her lip a little, sucking in a breath as he inclined his head in greeting and handed her the rum and coke drink.

  “Did someone tell you I was coming?” she asked dubiously, wondering if a servant had spotted her and ran ahead.

  “Tsk, tsk, princess. A dragon has to have his secrets,” he said, smiling thinly. “You look beautiful, Gem. I’m glad you took me up on the offer.” His appreciative gaze rolled over her again from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, and her core pulsed violently. At that moment, if he’d proposed skipping dinner altogether and doing something more fun with their night, she wasn’t sure if she would have wanted to say no.

  “Thank you for having me,” she said a little awkwardly, taking a sip of her drink as a form of liquid courage. She was going to need it, she felt.

  Devon walked her to her chair and helped her in her seat in a display of gallantry she’d hardly known to expect from him. He took his own seat, and Gemma once again remarked to herself how well he could command the room. He was in all black, as usual, and the thin gold chains around his neck seemed to catch the blue light of the flame, giving him a hazy, golden glow. Leave it to a dragon to make even a simple dinner a bit over the top.

  She didn’t mind, though, finding that sitting and eating in his company was as comfortable as the chat they had had in the library earlier that day – though it still made her stomach flutter with a million butterflies every time he glanced at her or asked a question.

  They ate mostly in silence, and Gemma grew more and more at ease. She sipped her drink from time to time, but as the night progressed, she found it harder to blame the alcohol for her brightened mood and her willingness to share with her host, fiancée and captor. Being truthful with herself, she realized that she wanted to talk to him and that being around him was something she’d come to enjoy, rather than get irritated by. Hell, the best time of her day was when Devon was in near vicinity of her, and surprisingly enough, the urge to flee from his fascinating presence was all but gone. Of course, the whole wedding bit was still complete nonsense, but she wouldn’t have to worry about that for a few more days, right? So why not have a bit of fun?

  Yeah, why not? Gemma asked herself, smiling slightly.

  The food was scrumptious as usual, and the spread laid out before them could have satisfied even the pickiest of eaters. When they moved on to chocolate lava cake served with whipped cream and fresh strawberries over velvety ice cream, Gemma thought she must have died and gone to culinary heaven, even if her appetite had been escaping her for most of the meal – wondering whether she was losing her mind because she liked being around the brazen, dastardly billionaire bad boy did that to a girl, it seemed.

  “So, what’s a gold moon?” she asked as she picked at the slices of strawberry, dappled with whipped cream. “You mentioned that the fight between Daedalus and Roman had to be decided on a gold moon. How come?”

  Devon looked up from his food, arching his brows a bit before a smirk finally cracked his lips. She noticed that his expression changed ever so slightly, almost unnoticeably, but enough to give him a harder look, reminding her of the dragon within him once again.

  “You pay attention far too well. A gold moon is the king of moons. Once every year, the sky is lit by a gold moon. Humans say it’s just that we’re so close to the moon that it seems almost close enough to touch, shining bright in the night sky. We dragons think it’s the time when our ancestors look down on us with their golden eyes, judging our actions and seeing if we’ve been honorable and done our kin proud. It’s supposed to be the time when our ancestors, the great old dragons, are the closest, and when our dragons are the strongest. It’s good luck and tradition to finish all important things by the gold moon and then start anew so that the forefathers could judge us. The next one is in just about two weeks.”

  Gemma smiled at the description. It was interesting to hear that dragons were in a way religious as well, or at least spiritual. There was something comforting in the knowledge that even these great, brutal beasts paid homage to the ones that came before them and cared about making their elders proud, both in life and in death.

  “What important things are you going to finish by the gold moon, then?” she teased, pushing her hair back and letting her fingertips slide over the golden earring she was wearing – a tiny, delicate golden dragon that wrapped around her ear and clung onto the skin with its small clawed hands. Devon’s eyes went to it, and a wolfish grin spread on his lips. Like countless times before, she felt like a bunny being stared down by a big animal, who could gobble her up in one bite. But, as before, it just made her sit up straighter. She wasn’t afraid of no wolf or dragon, as it might be.

  “I thought it was obvious, my Gem. I’m going to marry you.” He licked across his lips, and she could almost feel the sensation of his tongue crossing over her mouth the way it had when they kissed. The memory came back with force, and a shudder coursed through her, both wanting and uncertain at the same time.

  “And your elders would approve?” she asked pointedly, trying to keep her voice level and her jade eyes on him, though the intensity of his gaze made her want to look away.

  “I think
they’ll be most pleased that I’m carrying on traditions,” he said mildly, finally releasing her from the weight of his piercing blue eyes. She exhaled quietly, noting that she was almost vibrating on the spot. The dragon was a master at building suspense and expectation without saying much, and it always felt as if the room and everything around him shifted to fit his mood, even though she knew it was only in her head.

  Still, she had to wonder why a man as impressive as Devon Bluewing had ever wasted his potential on chasing skirts and hamming it up on the tabloids to begin with, when he could have been commanding armies and making the leaders of the world bend to his will if need be. He was just that damn striking that it didn’t seem impossible at all.

  The next question rattled around in her head, bouncing from wall to wall until it was so loud and painful that she had to blurt it out.

  “What makes you so sure I’m the right one?” It had been taking root since the very first conversation with him, and fearing the answer, she hadn’t dared ask before. But with their conversation in the morning now a fond memory, she could muster the courage to ask. After all, a girl who travelled the world without being able to find her cause had to wonder what made a man so sure that his decision was the only right one he could make. Devon eyed her again, setting down his dessert spoon and pushing the food away.

  He leant his elbows on the table, looking thoughtful. The matte black shirt he was wearing strained at his biceps as he clasped his hands together and the flames of the candles cast shadows on his face. This time, she saw the man, not the dragon.

  “It’s hard to explain, Gem.” He let the quiet hang between them until Gemma thought it would suffocate her whole. Her heart pounded loudly in her ears, and her throat wanted to close in on itself. She wasn’t sure why knowing the answer mattered so much to her, but it did. For that moment in time, it was the most important thing in the world, and she hoped for all things holy that he could tell her why.

  She clung to the silence, making it her life raft until he could tell her and release her from this burden of not knowing. If he could be so certain, so infallibly sure that his decision was the right one, how did he come to it? Finally, he looked up at her, smiling a guarded smile. It seemed like he had reached a decision. Without another moment, he grabbed her by the hand, and Gemma was pulled up, urgently but gently.

  “Let me show you instead.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Devon

  Devon was fairly certain he was holding his breath the entire way through the mansion. He kept a strong grip on Gemma’s hand, coiling his fingers between hers and reveling in the heat and lust that it sent tumbling through him. She rattled questions about where they were going and what he wanted to show her as he led her through the building, but he promptly ignored all of them.

  He couldn’t speak – at least not until he got there. If he stopped to explain, he might not take her there, might not dare to show her the biggest secrets of the Bluewing family despite his infallible knowledge that she was the one.

  One dark passageway turned into the next and then another and another as he broke through doors that had been standing for countless centuries. He knew the way by heart, but the deeper they got, the more confusing things must have got for Gemma, as the catacombs under the Bluewing mansion had left many a fool over the years stranded to die without finding a way out. As his heart constricted in his chest, he had to wonder if these catacombs would be his undoing as well.

  It wasn’t something he was accustomed to feeling – a dragon rarely felt nervous. In life and in death, a dragon always knew that his purpose was to grow and protect the hoard, to become powerful, to continue the line. He’d never faltered when faced with possibilities for the first two, so it was like rain on a cloudless day to find that there was, in fact, something that could rattle him. And furthermore that something was a someone, and the most gorgeous creature he’d ever laid eyes on.

  He squeezed Gemma’s hand a bit tighter as they reached a set of heavy doors, seemingly worn smooth with countless years, though faint markings and inscriptions could still be read on them.

  The doors were locked but sprang open at his touch, recognizing their true master. It was the trek he made each day, sometimes more than once, but this was the first time he had taken someone along that wasn’t his kin. His dragon had taken notice but urged him on. It was the right thing to do. She was his mate, and she had to be made certain that he was in it for the long haul and with earnest intentions. What better way to do that than to show her his greatest weakness?

  Past him would have scoffed at the thought – Devon Bluewing, having feelings for a curvy commoner without royal blood? The horror. He would have promptly punched past Devon in the face for that. He had been a fool.

  “Just wait,” he told her, squeezing her hand encouragingly. Finally, they came to a wrought iron door that had turned black with flame and soot over the years. A few fire pits burned in the wide cavern, the ceiling impossibly high and the door reaching at least twenty by twenty feet – just big enough for a dragon to wedge through.

  He stopped there and pulled Gemma up against him. She looked ravishing in that sapphire blue dress, her soft honey blonde hair falling gently on her shoulders and brushing at her neck, with the dragon earring clinging to her ear. The gesture of her wearing it was not lost on him. Perhaps it had been the last push he needed to bring her down here. He had to keep himself from letting his hands wander down her mouthwatering curves.

  She didn’t struggle against him, and Devon heard her breath hitch as their bodies touched, bringing a smile to his lips. That’s how it had to be – her a bit weak in the knees, but just enough to tell him he had a chance, and him about to lose his self-control. Perhaps they both needed to unravel a bit before things could truly work out.

  “Few humans have seen what I’m about to show you. The Bluewings never show their hoard to anyone but their mate. I told you I wouldn’t give you a ring . Instead, I’ll give you all the rings in the world. And anything else you can imagine. This isn’t something I do for show or for fun. I want to share everything I have with you, as hard as that may be to believe.”

  Devon’s voice remained quiet and calm, with just the faintest hint of the dragon’s growl underneath it. He kept his hands on her hips, not pushing himself on her, but making sure that she listened, understood. He needed her to know that what he was saying came from his blackened heart, even if he couldn’t phrase it quite as well as he wished. It wasn’t like him to lose his eloquence, but Devon was quickly becoming accustomed to being surprised at the things Gemma made him do and say.

  He suppressed a sigh, planting a small kiss on her forehead. His lips against her skin filled him with a maddening tingle. He wanted more – an emotion that had only been growing within him and was now an undeniable roar that was bursting at the seams.

  Reluctantly, he let go of her and stepped back, turning towards the door. He spoke to the ancient Bluewing magic, letting the power of the ancients flow through him until the impossibly heavy doors swung inward with an agonizing sound, like a great giant being forced to move. The glimmer that burst out through the crack in the doors slowly increased to a blinding sheen. It immediately brought a smile to Devon’s lips.

  The golden sparkle that shone down upon them made Gemma’s hair dazzle. He grabbed her hand as the doors had opened wide enough to give them safe passage and tugged at her to make her move. For once, Gemma didn’t have anything to say. He wondered if that was a good thing.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Devon

  Devon led her into the endless cavern by her hand, and she followed like an obedient puppy, scarcely believing her eyes. Gemma gripped his hand tighter, afraid to let go or get lost in what seemed like a maze of wealth. The piles of gold, gems and jewels reached from the floor to the ceiling some thirty feet up. Wherever she looked, she was met with the almost painful opulence, gorgeous trinkets, crowns, silks and chests of loot that Gemma could only guess the c
ontents of.

  One thing was for sure, the Bluewings had not been slacking on their hoarding. No wonder they liked keeping Gold Valley in tiptop shape – apparently there could never be enough riches for them to lord over. It brought a giggle to her chest, but she stifled it as much as she could, trotting after Devon, who was proudly telling her all about the various caverns and which of the Bluewing clan had managed to fill which vault. Apparently it was a bit of a pride thing to fill a room as big as possible with riches before dying. As a goldsmith herself, she could certainly see the appeal.

  “What’s so funny?” Devon asked mildly, cocking a brow at her and making Gemma come to a full stop. She worried her lip slightly, but couldn’t suppress a smile.

  “I knew you dragons liked gold, but this… this is marvelous,” she finally said, her eyes sparkling. Gemma bent down and picked up a sapphire and emerald bracelet, the details on it so intricate and finely crafted, she could scarcely believe her eyes. No one could do work so fine by hand anymore, but the old masters had been seemingly infallible. “Everything’s so gorgeous. I’m glad you decided to share this with me. I’ve always wondered where you dragons kept all of these supposed riches we heard about.”

  Devon’s hands slipped around her again, and Gemma found herself not minding one bit. In fact, she pressed a bit closer to him, though she wasn’t sure if it was a conscious decision or just her body telling her that she had held out long enough.

  His touch was electric as he brushed a lock of hair from her face. She leant against his fingers but froze when she realized what she was doing. A deep rumble of a chuckle sounded from Devon’s chest, and almost timidly, Gemma looked up into his mesmerizing blue eyes. He put a hand on the bracelet, lifting it up a little.