There was a reason people called him the goddamn Dragon King. Jaxon looked up from his anchor just in time to be reminded of why.
The seamless handoff of an unconscious woman on the back of a flying death lizard to the arms of a man in do-not-fuck-with-me mode was not normal, even by dragon standards.
Jaxon's sleep-deprived and sober brain also finally caught up to the fact that Guinevere was in Maddox's arms. She was the shooting star he may or may not have just made a wish on like a child who still believed in shit.
Maddox stood in the clearing with his wife locked against him and took one second to look down. After days of pure, unfiltered hell, he finally fucking had her.
A sound came from his chest that if anyone asked, he would blame on the wind. It lived somewhere between a sigh and a sob, and it escaped before he could kill it.
