Clay POV
The warm weight of Emma on my chest was a relief. My dragon sensed the silver's lingering effect on the strong lycan princess, but assured me she'd recover. Her peaceful breaths, a soft rustle against my ear, were a balm. The scent of her hair, like summer wildflowers, filled my senses.
I was glad she hadn't fought me upon our return, though the memory of her battle, a grim tableau of fear and strength, still haunted me. Her beauty, a fragile, incandescent thing, terrified me. Even now, with her lips parted in a gentle curve, her chest rising and falling rhythmically, I couldn't bear to look away.
This small, innocent girl, nestled against me, was a creature of immense power. Her perfection was a dangerous thing, a beacon that would draw unwanted attention. I already fe
