The pain in his voice, the underlying bitterness, clawed at me. “I’m sorry,” I told him. “I never wanted you to regret this.”

“I don’t.” Garret pulled back to look at me, his metallic gaze intense. “Maybe I would’ve been happier if I’d never come to Crescent Beach,” he went on, making my stomach knot painfully. “If I was still with St. George, I’d still be killing dragons, because that’s what they expected of me, and I wouldn’t know any better. Maybe ignorance is bliss, but that doesn’t make it right.” His face tightened, eyes going dark. “I think back to who I was, what I did, before we met, and it sickens me. I’d rather die right now than return to the Order. I’d rather be hunted like the very ones I used to kill than revert to the ignorant soldier I was. That life is done. I want no part of it anymore. All because I met a dragon on a beach, and she refused to be what I expected.” One hand rose, pressing against the side of my face, stroking with his thumb. “Ember, meeting you is the most important thing that’s ever happened to me,” he said in a quiet voice. “I wouldn’t change it for anything.”

“Really?” I smiled, feeling my chest squeeze tight. His words made my heart soar, but the intensity of his gaze was too much. “Even after everything? Being shot at and chased and followed around the casino by a security guard for underage gambling?” I asked, trying to ease the tension.

“Even then,” Garret replied, his eyes shining silver in the darkness. “I think…I’m in love with you, Ember.”

Garret

Did I really just say that?

Time had frozen around us, the echo of my confession hanging in the air, impossible to retract. Ember blinked at me, looking as stunned, and almost as panicked, as I felt. What had come over me? Was I losing my mind? I had absolutely no experience to draw on. Nothing like this had ever happened to me before. Tristan would’ve laughed at my idiocy. I had been a soldier of the Order; our love affairs involved weapons—machine guns, pistols, sniper rifles. Instruments of death, not people. The Order itself cautioned about divided loyalties, saying our hearts should belong to St. George and the mission before all else. Marriage was infrequent among soldiers; most of us died young, and dedication to the cause had to take precedent over everything else, even family. The bond we shared with our brothers, our comrades in arms, was stronger and far purer than the weak desires of the flesh. I’d known that, believed it wholeheartedly, once. I was what they made me: a weapon. The Perfect Soldier. What did I know about love?

For a second, I balked, my heart going cold in my chest. Why had I said anything? I knew she wasn’t human. Though she looked and acted and sounded like a normal girl, Ember was, at her core, a dragon. A creature that, according to the Order, could only imitate emotion. I no longer even remotely believed that, but I barely understood human emotion; I knew nothing about the hearts of dragons.

The soldier pressed forward, blank and emotionless, ready to numb all feeling. To shield me from pain and humiliation and fear. This had been a mistake. I’d left myself open, vulnerable, but there was still time to withdraw, to retreat behind a wall of indifference and—

No. I hardened myself, steeling my emotions in a different way. No illusions this time. No doubts. I knew exactly what was happening, that the girl in my arms wasn’t human. The Order would call me profane, a blasphemer, a demon lover. I was selling myself to evil. I was joining the devil’s own and damning my soul to hell. Ember might not return my feelings, not in the human sense. I didn’t know if dragons were even capable of love.

All of this went through my head in a heartbeat, and between one pulse and the next I decided, once and for all, that I didn’t care. Ember was a dragon. She was also beautiful, fearless, kind and ironically more human than the very people who wanted her whole race extinct. I didn’t know if most dragons were as the Order said they were—ruthless, conniving, power hungry—but I did know not all dragons were like that. Ember was different. Riley was different. I’d seen it firsthand. And the hatchlings I’d met, Ava and Faith, they weren’t the savage monsters St. George claimed them to be, either. The Order had lied. Talon had lied. I didn’t know what to think anymore, or who to believe. I was aware of only one thing: I was done fighting this. I no longer cared what anyone thought.

I was in love with a dragon.

Let the Order condemn me, I mused, perhaps my first truly rebellious thought in a lifetime. Let them call me a traitor and hunt me down. For thirteen years, I had followed commands, lived by the rigid code of St. George, become their perfect soldier, only to discover the Order I’d dedicated my life to was wrong. Everything I’d thought I knew was a lie. The only real thing was the girl in my arms.

“Garret,” Ember whispered, her eyes huge in her face as she stared at me. I felt the acceleration of her heartbeat, thudding rapidly against mine, felt a tremor go through her, and held my breath. And I waited, everything frozen inside, to see if the dragon I loved would leave me unscathed, or shred my heart to ribbons in front of me. “I… I don’t…”

A phone rang loudly in the darkness.

Ember

I jumped, leaping away from Garret, as a tinny melody shattered the quiet, coming from the bed. He let me go, turning toward the sound as well, his expression shutting into that remote blankness. My heart raced, thrilled, relieved, absolutely terrified. I didn’t know what to feel; I didn’t know what I wanted. I only knew that the tangle of confusion, worry and dragony rage inside was threatening to pull me apart.