A slow grin, followed by dimples, assaulted me. “Fuck … more than anything.” His words crashed into my heart, giving it what felt like wings. Then he leaned forward and the air between us shifted to full throttle again. I could practically see the sparks.

His full lips descended, pressing softly to the corner of my mouth. Gentle was not in his nature, but somehow it was the most tender touch I’d ever experienced. That tantalizing taste of Braxton was enough to have me clawing my hands into the ground to stop myself from yanking him into me.

As he pulled back, I swallowed down my scream of protest. I wanted more. More, more, more.

“Your dragon is rising, Jessa.” Braxton’s voice went even lower, but I barely registered it in my need. “Calm yourself, babe.”

The fire started in my center; my gut burned. Rising in plumes were the flames of my desire, my need. My dragon wanted Braxton and I had no idea why. My eyes locked on his with an animalistic intensity. His irises were no longer my favorite blue color. They had threads of yellow, threads of his dragon, as if our beasts were trying to get to each other.

“What’s happening?” My voice was harsher than usual. “I’m not sure I can control her.”

Braxton growled, loud in the cloying silence of the forest. “I know the feeling.”

I jumped to my feet. “We have to go.” I had to start moving again, I had to escape the emotions. Braxton must have understood my desire. Gracefully, he unfolded his lengthy limbs and rose to his giant height.

“Stay close,” he said.

My heart skipped a beat. He didn’t have to worry, I didn’t have the strength to pull my dragon from his scent and heat … even if I wanted to. Which I didn’t.

We trekked for a long time, the daylight never waning, and since there was no way to tell time, we could only guess at how long we’d been in Faerie. We didn’t touch each other; it felt unnatural and I knew it couldn’t last much longer. I needed to decide what I wanted, because something told me we were already past the point of no return, that our relationship would never be the same no matter what I chose.

A branch smacked me in the face, distracting me from my endless thoughts. Shit, I am so sick of this forest. I was about five minutes from throwing a tantrum that would make any two year old proud, when finally something changed.

Braxton sensed it first, but I wasn’t far behind. The random noises were different. We were now being followed, in a stalking-our-ass kind of way.

Braxton reached out and captured my hand. “Move,” he said, his voice a snap of emotion.