Free Pia Saves the Day by Thea Harrison Page A

I’m in your bones, too.”

Chapter Seven

    D ragos didn’t know about that.
    If she was in his bones, why did holding the delicate, feminine form in his arms feel entirely new? The perfumed scent of her hair was amazing. The trust she exhibited as she leaned against his body was revolutionary, life-changing.
    He hadn’t earned her trust. It was a gift, like her healing, and the gold and jewels. Her generosity of spirit staggered him.
    The different aspects of his personality raged against each other. He felt torn, pulled in too many directions. Part of him strained for the memories that weren’t there. He was shocked at so much evidence of his presence in this place, and furious that he could not feel a part of any of it.
    Then there was the jealousy, which made him feel more insane than ever.
    He hated the other Dragos, the one who had been a full participant in this rich, complex life. The one whom Pia obviously adored. He wanted to roar a challenge at that other dragon and tear him to shreds, until he was the only one left alive, the true victor and inheritor of all this bounty.
    But there was no other dragon. There was only himself. The threat he sensed lay inside of him.
    He was the one who had snapped at her. He could have killed her, without knowing, and then at some future date, he might have realized what he had done. He might have remembered that she was his mate. A cold nausea swept over him again at the thought.
    “I’m sorry,” he whispered into her. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I didn’t know. I could never have done it if I’d known.”
    She rubbed his back with one slender hand. When she spoke her voice remained as gentle and pragmatic as ever. “I know how sorry you are, and I knew you would be. What happened here—I never wanted you to remember that. All I want is for you to remember us.”
    Of course, she wanted her husband back. It seemed the time to say something reassuring, but he couldn’t reconcile the warring parts of himself enough to verbalize anything that didn’t sound completely crazy.
    Things like, you are not his. You are mine.
    I’ll kill anyone who tries to take you away from me.
    Forget the time you had with him. Be with me, here and now, not some image of who you think I am supposed to be.
    Growling in frustration, he gave up on words entirely, tilted up her head and covered her mouth with his. Her body softened readily, eagerly, against his, and her lips parted for his invasion.
    This response should be his, but he couldn’t trust it. The things he felt were dark, tangled, and edged in violence. She thought she was kissing her husband. Instead she was kissing a savage creature. One who might kill anyone, or do anything to have her.
    He wrenched his mouth away, and she made a soft sound of protest that went straight to his heart and groin alike. For a moment he thought she might tug on him to coax his head back down to her, and a greedy, ravenous part of him needed her to do it, to show him that she wanted him.
    See me. Choose me.
    Instead, she let him go and stepped away.
    “Do you need more time here?” She sounded breathless.
    “No,” he snapped. He watched her recoil, and part of him wanted to rampage through the night in a rage.
    Cautiously, she peered sideways at him as she suggested, “Would you like to go back to the house?”
    Back to the house, with the silent, empty nursery for an absent child, and the beautiful, serene suite of rooms the other Dragos shared with her.
    Clenching his fists, he pressed them against his thighs. This was too volatile, even for him. He had to get in control of himself. How could he expect her to continue trusting him, if he didn’t trust himself?
    “Go on back.” His tone was too short, and he fought to soften it. “I need a few minutes alone.”
    She hesitated, her face tilted up to his like some rare flower that only emerged in moonlight, and while she tried to hide her anxiety, he could still sense it running