“What are you doing?” I giggle.

“Having fun,” he answers with another waggle of his brows, right before he sends me flying back out again.

It’s the most fun I’ve ever had on a dance floor in my life—despite being half convinced I’m going to break an ankle at any moment. But Flint’s a great partner, and he makes sure I’m solid even as he’s flinging me around like a rag doll. At one point, I glance over at our table and realize Hudson is still sitting there, talking to Luca and Macy. I glance around the floor and catch Eden being twirled in another dragon’s arms, her smile friendly but not overly interested. I can’t help but wonder if she plans to ask Macy to dance tonight, or if I just imagined something growing between them these past few weeks.

Hudson’s eyes are burning a brilliant cerulean when our gazes collide, and for a second, I can’t breathe. But then Flint swings me away again, and the moment is broken.

The song finally ends about a minute later, and I’m ready to plead for a break when Flint looks behind me and grins. “I think I’m being cut in on,” he says, stepping back.

“What do you—” I break off as I follow his gaze and realize Hudson is standing right behind me.

“May I?” he asks, holding out his hand to me just as a slow, sexy ballad starts to play.

83

To Hoard or

Not to Hoard…

Asked Nobody Ever

For a second, I’m so surprised that I don’t answer him. But then Flint nudges me gently, and I nod so fast, I nearly give myself whiplash. “Yeah, of course.”

Hudson smiles, then takes my hand and pulls me straight into his arms. And he may not be as flashy as Flint is, but the boy has style. He knows how to hold a girl just right, so she feels safe, protected, but also free to move however she wants.

Also, I realize as I pull away just enough to shimmy my shoulders and my hips, that’s always been Hudson’s way with me—with everything. He always stays just close enough to help me if I need him—whether I’m learning to light candles or trying to pass paranormal ethics or taking on his father.

He lets me fight my own battles—in fact, he insists on it—but he’s always there to help me if I need it. I don’t know why I never realized that before.

It’s a little awkward to realize it now, right after he’s pulled me back against him so tightly that I can feel his long, lean muscles pressed against me. So tightly that I’m afraid he’ll be able to hear the sudden pounding of my heart.

He looks down at me, his eyes filled with a heat that has my hands shaking and my throat closing up. “Hudson.” I whisper his name, because it’s the only sound I can make, the only word I can think of.

I can see the way it hits him, the way he has to swallow hard a couple of times before he can smile and whisper my name right back.

He lowers his head slowly, slowly, slowly, and my whole body goes on red alert. Because this is a million times different than what happened in the forest near Katmere. That was fast, brutal, an inferno raging out of control. But this, this is a slow, steady burn, the kind that gets hotter so gradually that you don’t even notice it happening…until you’re almost at the boiling point.

“Hudson,” I say again, and my voice sounds weak and breathy, even to me.

He notices it, too—I can see it in his suddenly blown-out pupils, hear it in the stutter of his own breath, feel it in the way his body is now trembling against my own.

And then, just when he’s about to kiss me, just when his lips are nearly touching mine, there’s a sudden explosion from right over our heads.

Hudson wraps a protective arm around me even as he jerks away. We both look up to see what’s happening, and I gasp when I realize what it is. Sometime in the last few minutes, the chandeliers have retracted into a kind of hollow panel in the ceiling, and now the entire ceiling is retracting, sliding back to reveal the sky above our heads—and the most amazing fireworks display I’ve ever seen in my life.

Hudson laughs, but I’m awestruck by the dozens of giant fireworks going off at the same time, over and over again.

“Come on,” Hudson says, guiding me over to our friends, who are all oohing and aahing, too—even Flint, who has, I assume, seen this many times before. But when Hudson suggests moving over to an empty corner where the two walls of windows meet—right over the river—that’s when things get truly spectacular.

Because not only are the fireworks directly above us, they’re also all around us. Flashes of red and purple, gold and green, pink and white, over and over again. Then, suddenly, new lights join the fireworks, circles that cut through the flashes and align to make pictures of giant dragons and crowns and burning flames.

It’s the most incredible show I’ve ever seen. It feels enchanted, maybe even a little mystical, and even though Luca explains that it’s drones that are making the designs, it doesn’t matter. It still feels magical.

Everything about this night does. Especially when the fireworks are over and the orchestra resumes, and my friends and I get to dance underneath the stars for hours.

As the clock strikes midnight, tiny bells start tinkling all around the room, and I look up at Hudson. “What’s happening?”

He shrugs but offers a half grin. “I think it’s time for the hoard.”

People all around the room crowd in front of the flying hoard, lifting the hand to one item each and waiting as it gently drops down. There’s laughter and screaming and cries of joy as one after another, a dragon reaches into the hoard to draw out an envelope or jewelry or a key.

As everyone is shaking with excitement at what they’ve chosen, a sad thought comes to mind of all the dragons not here tonight. I turn to Flint and ask, “Is it only Court families who get to choose from the hoard? What about dragons living elsewhere who may not be wealthy?”

Flint looks affronted. “First of all, a dragon not being wealthy?” He pulls a fake knife from his heart. “Dragons love hoarding. It’s in our blood. We can’t help it. So no matter what we earn in life, we hoard it. We just naturally accumulate wealth—even if it takes generations.”

He turns to Luca and drapes an arm over his shoulders before continuing. “But dragons have huge dragon hearts. As much as we love wealth, we love our families more. Our clans. Our people.” He motions with a hand to the excited dragons still pulling items from the hoard in front of us. “This festival is going on in every town and city around the world where there are dragons. Granted, no one does it with quite the same flair as the dragon queen and the Dragon Court, but my mother ensures every clan shares in the royal hoard. We take care of our own.”

Eden chimes in. “Each dragon and family has their own personal hoards, but we also all contribute to the royal hoard—which then gets redistributed during the festival. Items from the royal hoard are sent to each festival and joined with their clan hoards.”

I nod. “So contributing to the royal hoard is like how you pay taxes?”

Flint rolls his eyes at that. “Sure, except without the political greed or benefits for the wealthiest families. The Montgomerys are the ruling family because we are the strongest, not just the wealthiest. And we believe we are only as strong as our weakest clan.”

Luca’s face is bright, pride beaming at his boyfriend. “You almost make me wish I were a dragon.”

Flint grins down at him, his chest puffed out just a little bit. “Maybe one day we’ll have to make you an honorary member.”

And just like that, the moment between these two goes from sweet to searing hot. Eden coughs into her hand, suggests there’s more dancing to be done tonight, and we all turn to head back to the dance floor.

But Flint calls out, “Wait a minute! Did you pick?”

“Pick what?” Macy asks, looking confused and more than a little bleary-eyed from lack of sleep. We’ve all been up more than twenty-four hours by now—and between the tense arrival and the dancing, we are more than ready to crash.

Flint grins and gestures above our head to the much-depleted hoard still floating in the air. “Your treasure.”

“Oh, we don’t need—” Luca starts, but Flint just shakes his head.

“You can’t come to the biggest party of the dragon year and leave empty-handed. It just isn’t done. My family has contributed enough personal wealth to share with our guests, dragon or not.” He narrows his eyes at us. “So pick something.”

“Okay, okay.” Eden looks up at the gold and gemstones whirling above our heads. “What do you recommend?”

“Depends on what you want.” Flint looks up, too. “But I tend to go for the envelopes.” He waits until the one he wants is directly above our heads, then reaches a hand up. Seconds later, it zooms right into his hand.

“What’s in it?” Macy asks, crowding close to peer over his shoulder.

He shrugs, then tears open the top. Out comes what looks to be about five thousand dollars in cash. He grins. “Seems like breakfast is on me.”