by Zoe Chant
Before Naomi could reply, they’d stepped out from behind the curtain that had kept them hidden from view so far.
In front of them, the town’s children were milling around, scattering colorful petals. It was supposed to be a sort of procession, but the children were too excited to keep in line. The air was filled with laughter and excited cheers. Gregory could smell the scent of flowers and sugar carried by the breeze. It came from the far end of the square, where little stalls had been set up with all sorts of fairground treats for the children.
Naomi’s hand tighten around his. When he turned to look at her, he found her eyes wide, her face flushed with excitement as she tried to take it all in.
“This is incredible,” she breathed.
Then she gasped, her eyes raising towards the sky just as a big whoop erupted from the gathered crowd.
From above, confetti came raining down. Little bits of paper were falling like snow, glistening and glittering in hues of silver, gold, and blue. There were also red balloons soaring into the sky, colorful little dots drifting in the breeze. With a smirk, Gregory nudged the wind just a little to keep them gracefully circling the square.
And above the confetti and the balloons, two eagle shifters were beating their wings, their talons clutching now empty baskets.
Gregory felt his heart fill with warmth as he raised his hand to give them a grateful wave.
This was his home. These were his friends. And now—now, at last, he’d raise his own family, and find the happiness everyone here had been telling him he’d find one day.
“Wait until you see the banquet they’ll have prepared for later,” he said.
Naomi was looking gorgeous. She was wearing a dress of silk and lace—a dress she’d discovered when she’d looked through one of the storage rooms with Gregory’s aunt Jess. It had been the dress Gregory’s grandmother had worn a long time ago to an alpha ceremony that must have looked a lot like this one.
It looked stunning on Naomi. And deep in his heart, Gregory knew that his grandmother would have been proud of the mate he’d found, and honored by the thought that the dress would be used by her grandson’s mate.
The silk clung to Naomi’s generous curves in all the right way. The lace glittered and gleamed with thousands of tiny diamonds that had been sewn to it. The dragon inside him preened to see his mate decorated with the beautiful jewels.
As they slowly circled the square, stopping every few steps to shake hands and accept congratulations, Gregory couldn’t look away from Naomi’s beautiful, animated face. She was laughing as she embraced Ginny, and then quickly intervened before a fight could break out between a pair of children who’d gotten their baskets of petals confused.
Naomi looked as though she’d always belonged here. She was at home here, just as Gregory was—and that was perhaps the most important thing of all.
Their little procession finally finished when they reached a little platform, which had been erected next to the fountain in the middle of the square.
Sheriff Banner was waiting there for them, with Jared, the griffin shifter by his side.
All through the speeches that followed, Gregory couldn’t keep from sneaking glances at Naomi.
She was glowing, there was no other word for it. Her eyes were alight with excitement and happiness. Even without Gregory’s doing, the wind kept playfully tugging at her hair, strands of the silky, black tresses brushing Gregory’s cheek.
Naomi smelled like flowers and sunlight, and beneath that sweet scent, there was something even more powerful that clung to her skin: Gregory’s own scent, just as his own skin now smelled of her touch.
It made the dragon inside him stretch his wings with a pleased, possessive rumble, even though there was now a hint of impatience in it.
Wait, Gregory told it quietly. The speeches are almost over.
The ceremony was elaborate—but not because that was how dragons liked it.
Dragons were at heart very simple in their desires. The ceremony was mostly for the town, and that was how Gregory liked it. He was a part of the town, and the town was a part of him. Especially on this day of days, when he was full of overflowing happiness, it was a happiness that should be shared with all of Mountain View.
When, the dragon hissed impatiently.
Even Naomi began to shift restlessly next to him—but then, at last, sheriff Banner finished and took a step back.
Through the following applause, Jared stepped forward. The griffin shifter wore an elegant, black suit, the cut simple, but fitting him perfectly.
With amusement, Gregory noted all the admiring eyes that followed him. Although Jared had never seemed all that eager to go and search for his own mate, Gregory’s newly mated dragon now seemed to delight in finding matches for their best friend right here in their hometown.
Let him find his own mate, Gregory gently told his dragon. Remember how it happened for us. He’ll know. One day he’ll see her, and he’ll know. We can’t speed it up for him.
“Brother,” Jared said quietly, reaching out to touch Gregory’s shoulder. “I’m so very pleased for you.”
There were no speeches to this part. This part, at last, was the true ceremony—the only important part, as far as his dragon was concerned.
It needed no words. It was ancient, powerful, filled with that same primitive, all-encompassing magic that had drawn dragons towards their mates for as long as they existed.
From his pocket, Jared drew a chain of silver. A diamond glistened on it—a rare diamond that was not a translucent white, but instead had veins of pale blue and green spreading through it. It was impossible to get a good view of them—they shifted inside the diamond, just as the breeze carrying petals and bits of glitter shifted all around them.
It was the most precious jewel of Gregory’s hoard. The diamond encased a tiny part of him, a spark of his dragon’s essence—the very element that had been his companion since the moment he’d been born.
Now, Gregory took hold of it and raised it. The crowd fell silent as it sparkled in the sunlight, the wind picking up so that petals danced all around them.
Then Gregory reverently fastened the chain around Naomi’s neck. The diamond came to rest against her skin, and a sigh went through the crowd just as Naomi’s eyes widened.
Through the bond, he could feel her surprise. The wind abruptly ceased to blow.
Before she could speak, he leaned forward and kissed her. In front of them, the crowd cheered, but all he had eyes for when he drew back was Naomi.
“It’s a part of me,” he said earnestly. “A part of my dragon. It’s the most precious thing I own. It’s yours, just as much as I am yours. I’m bound to you, just as my power is bound to you. Forever.”
“Forever,” Naomi echoed softly, her voice filled with awe.
Gently, her fingers traced the diamond—and then her eyes widened again with surprise when the breeze picked up, petals circling around them, going faster and faster.
“Did I...” she asked, her voice shaking.
Before Gregory could answer, she touched the diamond again and looked up at the storm of petals all around them.
A moment later, the wind shifted. A colorful rain of petals came down over the crowd, which now erupted in whoops once more, children running back and forth with shrieks of delight as they tried to catch the petals.
“It’s a part of me,” Gregory said. “And I’m a part of you.”
“Forever,” Naomi said in wonder—and then, all ceremony forgotten, she wrapped her arms around him.
As he lifted her to twirl her around, she laughed and laughed, the mate bond filled with nothing but overflowing love and joy.
Epilogue: Naomi
The seasons had passed more quickly than Naomi’d believed possible.
In Mountain View, every day seemed filled with new excitement. She’d dreaded the passing of summer a little, but autumn brought stunning views as all the leaves turned to brilliant shades of orange and red.
She’d begun to explore the forest-covered valleys of the mountains with Ginny as a faithful hiking companion. And now, for the first time in years, she woke up every morning with her mind overflowing with images of beauty, so that she could barely wait for the moment when she’d be able to grab her paints and her easel.
“Do you want to check out the curtains I’ve chosen?” Gregory murmured playfully against her hair. “Remember, you said you don’t care about curtains. I might’ve picked neon green polka dots...”
Naomi’s lips twitched. “Your dragon’s got better taste than that, even if you might not,” she retorted teasingly.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Gregory gave her a look of pretended outrage as he took her hand.
Still giggling, Naomi allowed herself to be led towards the newly restored tower. The workers had left a week ago, and since then, Naomi and Gregory had spent every free moment finishing the renovations. This morning, a large delivery had come—the curtains, or so Naomi supposed. They’d been all that was left to do, and then the tower would be as good as new.
No—it would be even better. It would be their tower. The first project they’d started and finished together.
Maybe she should be grateful that the fire dragon had allowed them to transform that part of the mansion—but Naomi still remembered the cloud of ash and her fear all too well.
Then she took a deep breath.
Stop, she told herself firmly. He isn’t our problem anymore. He won’t be a problem ever again.
She’d been there with Gregory when the council spoke its final judgment. Gregory didn’t have a vote in it, because of his personal involvement, but even so the verdict had been unanimous.
The fire dragon had been sentenced to dragon jail—at least that was how Gregory chose to describe it to her. Dragonsbane would keep him from shifting, and he’d serve his sentence in a cavern, deep inside the rocks of Sky Home.
It had been hard not to feel a little bit sorry for him, especially now that Naomi had tasted the wild exuberance of dragon flight herself. But then, he’d attacked her. And in his mad quest for revenge for a centuries-old grudge, the fire dragon might have killed innocents.
No, the sentence was earned. He’d chosen his own fate. Maybe he’d even use the time of his sentence as a chance to learn about this world and the humans who lived in it.
But no matter what the fire dragon had tried to destroy, in the end, Gregory and Naomi had come out even stronger, the mate bond strong as steel. No one would be able to part them ever again.
“I’m ready—even for your polka dots.” Naomi wrapped her arm around Gregory’s waist.
In return, his hand gently curved over the swell of her belly as he nuzzled her cheek.
“Won’t have much time to enjoy our new tower before this one is going to keep us awake all night,” he murmured tenderly.
Naomi’s smile widened. “I know. And I cannot wait.”
No matter how exhausting it would be, it would all be worth it. It was all worth it for this.
With a flourish, Gregory opened the door that led into the new tower’s largest room.
From the outside, it looked much like before—they’d taken care to rebuild in the same style that Gregory’s great-great-grandfather had used for the other towers.
But on the inside... on the inside, it was an artist’s wildest dream come true.
The large room spread before them. They had eschewed hardwood floors, as much as Naomi loved them. Instead, they’d gone with tiles—not a sterile white, but a beautiful terracotta that made Naomi think of holidays by the Mediterranean Sea. Most importantly, the tiles could be easily cleaned, in case of drips—or rampaging toddlers, she supposed.
There were more windows than there’d been before, but that was an alteration in the design Gregory had been only too happy to make. Now, no matter what time of day, sunlight was always falling in through several of the generous windows. On the other side of the room, a door led out onto a balcony, large enough for several chairs—or an artist and her easel.
The tower had been transformed into an artist’s workspace, alive with golden sunlight, and with more than enough space to work on ten paintings or more at the same time, if she wanted to.
Oh, and she wanted to now. The need to create had returned as if it had never left.
This part of her that had been dead for so long had come alive with a vengeance. Now her fingers itched and her heart was overflowing with images of the secret pond at dawn, the red autumn leaves covering the sides of the mountain, the memory of petals dancing in the air—and, above all, that memory of wild, unbridled joy as she rode through the sky on the back of her dragon, one with the elements, as free and wild as a lightning storm.
“The gallery called this morning,” Gregory murmured into her hair when they stepped out onto the balcony. “They’re sending out the invitations to the press today. The Art of Naomi Drago: Beauty of the Wind. You’re going to take New York by storm.”
Naomi laughed and turned in his embrace, just so that she could see the fascinating shift of light in his silver-gray eyes.
“I doubt it,” she said. “But it’s a start. And New York... Jeff is going to turn green with envy. Dragons aren’t art,” she muttered, remembering the way the gallery owner had mocked her. “If only he knew just how real dragons really are.”
“There’s an invitation left,” Gregory said, his smile widening to a grin. “One of those gorgeous, silver cards you ordered. Should we mail it to him?”
Naomi giggled.
“Let’s do it,” she decided. “Maybe it’ll change his view of dragons. Or of what’s real art. And it was thanks to him we even found each other. If he’s happy for me for once, I’ll forgive all that talk about real art. And if he’s not—I already have all I could possibly want in my life. My home. My mate. And soon—a little dragonet.”
Gregory’s hands cupped her face, his thumb trailing along her cheek as she relaxed against him with a sigh.
“I couldn’t possibly be any happier than I am right now,” she whispered, her heart alight with joy.
In the breeze that suddenly picked up as though directed by a dragon’s power, the silver curtains fluttered in the sunlight, the exact color of clouds hit by the sun.
Well chosen, she told Gregory’s dragon through the mate bond.
In return, the dragon’s pride and joy came back to her through the bond, accompanied by the little rumble that she’d come to recognize as his restlessness.
“Want to go for a flight over the town?” she said, her hand curving over her belly. “Before I get too large for it.”
“No such thing,” Gregory said, his dragon’s delight shining through every word. “You’re gorgeous. Both of you are gorgeous. The wind will be honored to carry us.”
Gently, the wind played with the strands of her hair, as if to agree with Gregory’s statement.
Again Naomi laughed. Gregory’s jewel still rested against her chest. She couldn’t grow wings of her own—but the wind was a part of her now, a friend who lifted petals and leaves and brought the scent of roses with it from the garden.
“Let’s fly,” she said, drawing back from Gregory to look at him standing in the sunlight before her, her beautiful, strong dragon of the storm. Her mate.
“Let’s fly—and then, I’m going to inaugurate this studio with a painting I’ll never exhibit, and never sell. A painting of the most beautiful creature in the entire world.”
She could see it perfectly now, the strokes of silver, the sizzle of lightning, the clouds lit by the sun, the eyes filled with light.
A dragon. But not any dragon.
Lightly, Gregory stepped from the balcony. Joy and love filled Naomi until she thought she’d burst with it as he shifted right there in the air before her, powerful silver wings spreading, catching the light of the sun.
My storm dragon. My mate.
Yours, Gregory agreed through the mate bond.
&
nbsp; Yours, she thought back, her hand tenderly cradling the curve of her growing belly. Forever.
***
A note from Zoe Chant
Thank you for buying my book! I hope you enjoyed it. If you’d like to be emailed when I release my next book, please click here to be added to my mailing list. You can also visit my webpage, or follow me on Facebook or Twitter.
Please consider reviewing Mated to the Storm Dragon, even if you only write a line or two. I appreciate all reviews, whether positive or negative.
Page down to read a special sneak preview of The Christmas Dragon’s Mate.
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