Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 161615 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 808(@200wpm)___ 646(@250wpm)___ 539(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 161615 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 808(@200wpm)___ 646(@250wpm)___ 539(@300wpm)
When the Dragon Swallowed the Moon.
I reached for it without thinking, my fingers tracing the embossed title.
The last time I'd read this book, everything had been different.
I remembered where I'd left off.
Sol—the Lowly girl with ice in her veins—had just discovered that Korin, the terrifying dragon who'd been burning cities to ash, could take human form. He'd followed her through the streets of her ruined kingdom, smelling of jasmine, stormwater, and flame. She'd tried to fight him, tried to run, but he'd caught her anyway.
And then he'd taken her.
Carried her across the sky in his massive claws, over mountains, forests, and an endless silver ocean, all the way to his lair—a hollowed-out mountain filled with treasure beyond imagination. Gold coins heaped like sand dunes. Rubies the size of apples. Skeletal kings still seated on their thrones, crowns glittering on rotted skulls.
Sol had woken up naked on a bed of furs, surrounded by wealth, and with a sleeping dragon curled around her like a possessive god.
And when she'd tried to escape, he'd caught her again.
He'd told her the truth—that she wasn't human at all. That she'd been born from an egg, found by the Lowly parents who raised her. That her ice magic wasn't just power; it was proof of what she really was.
A dragon.
His mate.
He'd shown her that his fire couldn't burn her. That her ice couldn't truly hurt him. In fact, it only brought him pleasure.
He'd tasted her with that massive tongue, claimed her with heat and want, and she'd been helpless to deny the desire that bloomed in response.
And just when she'd begun to accept the impossible truth of her existence, Korin had revealed one final secret.
He had a twin brother.
Another dragon king.
And he was taking her to meet him.
Two dragon twins sharing a single mate?
The possessiveness, the heat, the inevitable collision of all that power?
Maybe, I’ll read a little until Kenji returns.
I opened the book.
Chapter forty-two
The Brother Who Did Not Believe
Sol
Sol's mind spun as Korin carried her into a dark hallway, his arms cradling her against the solid heat of his chest. Every thought collided with the next, a tempest of impossible truths she couldn't outrun.
Dragons cannot lie.
She'd tried to deny it. Tried to say the words—I am not your mate, I am not your queen, I am not a dragon—and her tongue had betrayed her every time. The sentences had curled and died in her throat like smoke snuffed by wind. Her own body had confirmed what her mind refused to accept.
She was like him.
She was his.
Sol shivered against Korin's chest, and the movement pressed her bare skin closer to his warmth. She should have hated the contact.
Should have recoiled from the man—the beast—who had snatched her from everything she knew. But her body had other ideas. Her body wanted to sink into him, to let his heat seep into her bones and stay there.
What is wrong with me?
She thought of his flames that hadn't burned her. The way his fire had kissed her skin and left her gasping—not in pain, but in pleasure so sharp it had stolen her breath.
She thought of that massive tongue dragging up the length of her body, claiming every inch of her like she was already his.
And she'd liked it.
That truth sat heavy in her chest, shameful and undeniable.
Her thighs pressed together as the memory surfaced again—the wet heat of his tongue sliding between them, lingering just long enough to make her hips jerk.
A flush crept up her neck.
Her nipples tightened against his chest, and she prayed to every god she knew that he couldn't feel them.
But of course, he could.
Sol exhaled slowly, trying to steady herself, but something was different now. Something had shifted in her blood. A strange warmth was building in her core—not the lingering echo of his fire, but something deeper. Something that pulsed with its own rhythm, like a second heartbeat awakening beneath her ribs.
The longer she was in his arms, the warmer she was getting.
Far too warm.
Sweat beaded at her temples despite the cool air of the corridor. Her skin felt tight, oversensitive, as if every nerve had been pulled taut and left trembling.
When Korin's thumb shifted against her hip—a small, unconscious adjustment—she nearly gasped aloud.
I don’t understand. What is happening to me?
Between her thighs, she was slick. Embarrassingly, undeniably wet. She could feel it—the evidence of her body's betrayal soaking into nothing because she wore nothing at all. Every shift of Korin's arms pressed her bare sex against the hard muscle of his forearm, and she had to bite her lip to keep from grinding against him.
This is madness. He kidnapped me. He's a monster. I should not want him.
But she did want Korin.
Her body screamed it.
Her thoughts scattered like startled birds.
She couldn't focus. Couldn't think past the heat spreading through her limbs, pooling low in her belly, throbbing between her thighs with an insistence that bordered on painful.