was destiny. She was his destined mate. It wasnât Chenâs powder that had brought him good luck lately; it had been the promise of the firestorm. This was his chance to do something important and to do it right. He had been ready for an opportunity to make a lasting relationship, and here was his chance. He had a duty to fulfill the firestorm, which meant he had to pursue her.
Without spooking her with his truth.
This was his shot, in more ways than one. Everything hung in the balance. He could do better than his father. Brandon had to believe it.
All he had to do was keep his dragon in check.
He would romance her. He would woo her and he would win her, and he would conquer the dark force within himself foreverâwith her help.
His dragon shifter nature had always been a dark secret, an embarrassment, an obstacle to close friendships. Heâd resented it, blamed it for his feeling alone in a crowd, wished heâd never been cursed with it.
But the sensation of the firestorm was wonderful, exhilarating, powerful. It was the only good thing about being
Pyr
, and it was happening to him.
To them.
He smiled and stepped toward her, offering his hand. The sparks danced and crackled, as if a bonfire burned between them. She stared at those flames, glanced at her friendsâwho were so busy staring at the moon that they hadnât noticed anything oddâthen took a bold step toward him. Her eyes danced and her smile broadened. Brandon felt like they had a secret, a magical connection, because they did.
The firestorm.
Her hand was in his, the flames crackling between them, the heat filling his blood. The light spread over her skin, dancing over her, making her eyes sparkle. She would have asked a question, but Brandon didnât want to risk the loss of the magic.
He let instinct rule.
He tugged her so that she was against his chest. Her hands fell on his shoulders and she looked up at him, his own desire mirrored in her blue eyes. That was all the encouragement he needed to bend his head and claim her lips with a kiss.
And the firestorm surged through his veins, filling him with hope and desire, persuading him that it knew best of all.
Liz felt that spark electrify her.
Firedaughter
.
The word resonated in her thoughts as the old fire surged through her veins. Her power
was
back, against all rhyme and reason. She couldnât explain it, but theevidence was irrefutable. And magic was like thatâit played by its own rules.
This was why sheâd felt more alive than she had in fourteen years. Arriving here had somehow jolted her awake from a long sleep and rekindled her powers. She was immersed in the sensory power that had once filled her days and nights, and it felt so good and so right that Liz had no desire to throw it away again just yet.
Maybe she was drunk.
Maybe that was why she didnât care.
But she wanted all the sensation that sheâd denied herself for the past fourteen years. She wanted to wallow in it, savor it, and enjoy it.
Just for a few moments.
In this moment of moments, making out with the most irresistibly sexy guy sheâd ever met suited her just fine. She didnât even know his name. She didnât need to know his name. It was one soul-searing kiss, and after that, sheâd never see him again.
Liz wasnât impulsive about sex. She wasnât someone who lost control. She wasnât impetuous or inclined to indulge her passions.
But she was intuitive and she knew what was right.
This guy and his kiss were right.
In fact, this was the first thing that had been right in a long, long time.
His kiss awakened parts of her that had been slumbering and fueled them with new heat. Liz felt languid and sexy and absolutely certain of what was right. Justthe way heâd looked at her made her feel sexy. The way he smiled was mischievous, seductive, and had tempted her to taste him. The way he walked and moved, his powerful grace, made her want to
Without spooking her with his truth.
This was his shot, in more ways than one. Everything hung in the balance. He could do better than his father. Brandon had to believe it.
All he had to do was keep his dragon in check.
He would romance her. He would woo her and he would win her, and he would conquer the dark force within himself foreverâwith her help.
His dragon shifter nature had always been a dark secret, an embarrassment, an obstacle to close friendships. Heâd resented it, blamed it for his feeling alone in a crowd, wished heâd never been cursed with it.
But the sensation of the firestorm was wonderful, exhilarating, powerful. It was the only good thing about being
Pyr
, and it was happening to him.
To them.
He smiled and stepped toward her, offering his hand. The sparks danced and crackled, as if a bonfire burned between them. She stared at those flames, glanced at her friendsâwho were so busy staring at the moon that they hadnât noticed anything oddâthen took a bold step toward him. Her eyes danced and her smile broadened. Brandon felt like they had a secret, a magical connection, because they did.
The firestorm.
Her hand was in his, the flames crackling between them, the heat filling his blood. The light spread over her skin, dancing over her, making her eyes sparkle. She would have asked a question, but Brandon didnât want to risk the loss of the magic.
He let instinct rule.
He tugged her so that she was against his chest. Her hands fell on his shoulders and she looked up at him, his own desire mirrored in her blue eyes. That was all the encouragement he needed to bend his head and claim her lips with a kiss.
And the firestorm surged through his veins, filling him with hope and desire, persuading him that it knew best of all.
Liz felt that spark electrify her.
Firedaughter
.
The word resonated in her thoughts as the old fire surged through her veins. Her power
was
back, against all rhyme and reason. She couldnât explain it, but theevidence was irrefutable. And magic was like thatâit played by its own rules.
This was why sheâd felt more alive than she had in fourteen years. Arriving here had somehow jolted her awake from a long sleep and rekindled her powers. She was immersed in the sensory power that had once filled her days and nights, and it felt so good and so right that Liz had no desire to throw it away again just yet.
Maybe she was drunk.
Maybe that was why she didnât care.
But she wanted all the sensation that sheâd denied herself for the past fourteen years. She wanted to wallow in it, savor it, and enjoy it.
Just for a few moments.
In this moment of moments, making out with the most irresistibly sexy guy sheâd ever met suited her just fine. She didnât even know his name. She didnât need to know his name. It was one soul-searing kiss, and after that, sheâd never see him again.
Liz wasnât impulsive about sex. She wasnât someone who lost control. She wasnât impetuous or inclined to indulge her passions.
But she was intuitive and she knew what was right.
This guy and his kiss were right.
In fact, this was the first thing that had been right in a long, long time.
His kiss awakened parts of her that had been slumbering and fueled them with new heat. Liz felt languid and sexy and absolutely certain of what was right. Justthe way heâd looked at her made her feel sexy. The way he smiled was mischievous, seductive, and had tempted her to taste him. The way he walked and moved, his powerful grace, made her want to
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