Fire in His Embrace Read Online Ruby Dixon (Fireblood Dragon #3)

Categories Genre: Alien, Dragons, Dystopia, Erotic, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal Tags Authors: Series: Fireblood Dragon Series by Ruby Dixon
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Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
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She gasps, looking up. Another scent tinges the air, still distant. The foul-smelling male that was here will return soon. I batter her with my thoughts even as she climbs off my cock, my seed spilling down her thighs.

I am shocked at the sight. Is she…is she rejecting me? When a drakoni male rejects a female, he does not come inside her. He pulls out and lets his seed spill on her back. Has she decided that she does not want me?

But I have claimed her. She is mine.

A roar of frustration builds in my throat as she flings her strange skins back on her body, then wipes my seed from my skin with her wraps, and races away.

How is this possible? Why is she leaving?

Why has she rejected me? I touch her mind again, but there is still nothing for me to touch. No one for me to speak to.

“Em-mah!” I roar, furious. The urge to turn to battle-form, to snatch her into my claws and fly away with her, is overwhelming. But the cage around my chest prevents me from turning, as does the choking band around my neck. I am no good to my female if I am dead or unable to fly.

My mate’s scent disappears, and I roar my frustrations to the world.

7

EMMA

It seems impossible, but I’ve caught the flu.

At least, I’m pretty sure it’s the flu. All I know is that when I wake up the next morning, I’m feverish and hot, and my stitches hurt and throb like nothing I’ve ever felt before. When I can’t rouse myself out of bed for breakfast, Carol, one of the older women, checks in on me. A short time later, Old Jerry heads by and puts his hand on my forehead.

“You’re burning up. Might be infection.” He checks my head and then grunts in surprise. “Looks good, though. Could just be bad luck. Stay in bed, I guess. Can’t have you feeding everyone if you’ve got the damn plague.” He sits down in a folding chair next to my bed, digs through his bag, and then hands me some long-expired cold meds. “Take these and see if they help.”

I nod and choke the pills down, then go back to sleep.

I wake up a short time later with a sense of dread hanging over my head. I rub a hand over my face, squinting at the cracked ceiling in my room and wondering what’s bothering me. Did I dream about my brother? Did the cold meds make me sick?

Where are you?

The thought echoes in my head, clear as day, and my first instinct is to think that I’m hallucinating.

But the voice in my head is thoroughly masculine, deep and full of anger. It can only be one person. Zohr?

Emma? Where are you? Why do you hide yourself away?

I sit upright in the bed, surprised. A wave of nausea crashes over me and I lie back down again, moaning. I’m in bed. I’m sick.

His thoughts turn affectionate and protective, which is startling to feel. Is it because you took in my fires?

Your fires? Is that what happened when you bit me? I’m still shocked that this worked, and a little pleased. Something actually worked for a change. I’m even more shocked that Zohr’s talking to me, and his voice is so very clear he might as well be standing right next to me. I’m alone in my room, though, and yet I have a strange feeling of being watched. It’s bizarre. I press my hand to my throbbing forehead, trying to absorb everything.

Yes. You took my venom. When you receive my fires, it bonds us. We are connected forever now.

Oh gosh, forever, huh? Great?

Why do you not sound pleased? Did you not want to mate with me? Is that why you rejected my seed? Anger and frustration tinge his thoughts, along with desperation. It feels as if he’s about to go out of control, and quick.

Rejected his…oh boy. I didn’t mean to reject anything. And judging from the emotions that are blasting through my head, he’s really upset over it. I try to recall what happened, and then realize with embarrassment that he misinterpreted why I left. I had to sneak in to see you, I explain. I heard someone coming and I had to leave. It just happened to be at, um, a really bad moment.

I did not feel your cunt clench with pleasure. Did you come?

Son of a bitch, that question zooms through my head like an arrow. An embarrassing, very pointed arrow. Uh. It was fine.

I can practically feel him growling. It does not sound fine. Come back here so I can pleasure you. Come free me.

I would love nothing more than to free you, Zohr. I can’t, though.

Why? Are the other males I scent holding you hostage? Anger erupts through my mind, startling in its immediacy and ferocity. Do I need to come for you?


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