A Curse of Scales and Flame – Magic and Marvels Read Online Max Walker

Categories Genre: Dragons, Fantasy/Sci-fi, M-M Romance, Magic, Paranormal Tags Authors:
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 88669 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
<<<<5868767778798088>96
Advertisement


I placed my hand over the door to my hoard, feeling the warmth of ancient magic beneath my fingers.

“This,” I whispered as the door creaked open, revealing the room beyond, “is where I keep my most prized possessions.”

Robby gasped as he stepped into the room. It was as if the sun itself had decided to make a home within the walls. A golden hue bathed the space, the illumination dancing over shelves upon shelves of rare books, scrolls, and tomes. The shelves were all imported wood, each individually and intricately carved. Some stood on clawed feet, and others were made to look like snakes slithered up its sides. It wasn’t a vast, sprawling cavern like Marmont’s labyrinth, but the sheer brilliance of the room gave it a grandiose aura. The domed ceiling was made of cracked blue marble, giving the effect of a permanently bright sky crowning my collection. The sunlight effect was an enchantment I had a Marvel do for me. In the center of the room was a large lounging area full of plush evergreen pillows and cushions, thick white blankets folded neatly in a basket nearby.

Robby looked up at the dome with a slack jaw before he approached one of the shelves, the one that was carved to appear as if it was made of wooden dragon scales. “This place… it’s magical,” he whispered. His fingers brushed the spine of a leather-bound book, and his eyes widened with awe as he read the spine.

“A first-edition Lazlowe? Are you serious? His book of poems is supposed to be worth over a hundred thousand dollars. I saw a news story on it just the other day.”

“I know,” I replied with a cheeky smirk. “I was the one who bought it.”

“Of course you were,” Robby said, smiling as he moved to another shelf and another. “Can I hold one?”

“Yeah, go for it,” I said, finding glee in his sense of wonder.

“Wait. Is this a history of dragons in Cuba?”

I nodded, approaching him slowly. “It is. My collection has stories from nearly every culture and country.”

He had a pensive expression as he moved on, hands behind his back. “That’s where my parents are from,” Robby said. He paused, his eyes distant. “I assume my biological mother is too. I wonder if she had come with my mom or if she had come at a different time. I don’t know. It’s strange to think about….”

I reached out, pulling him into a gentle embrace. “It’s all part of the history that’s inside of you, Robby. One day we can put it all together.”

“How about you? Where is your family from?”

“Originally, who knows,” I said, referencing the other-side of the Tears. A mystery to every single soul walking this earth. “But my family initially settled in Italy before they moved to the US.”

“Can you speak Italian?”

“Un po,” I said with a cheeky grin. I actually was fluent, but I liked to keep a few surprises in my back pocket to impress Robby with.

He chuckled and looked around at the room. “Well, speaking of rare books… how do you afford all this? This castle, the books? It’s like you’re living in a fairy tale, and I haven’t seen you clock into a nine-to-five that I’m aware of.”

I leaned against one of the shelves with a laugh, the light casting a glow on my face. “Generational wealth, if I’m being blunt. Our ancestors left behind a considerable legacy. The castle, for instance, has been in the Blackthorne family for centuries. Over time, smart investments, dealings with other supernatural entities, and a bit of treasure hunting added to our bank accounts.”

Robby smirked, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “So you’re basically a supernatural trust fund baby?”

Laughing, I caught his chin with my fingers. “Maybe. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have my own ways of contributing.”

As I pulled him closer, our lips met once again, and the weight of our conversation faded, replaced by an overwhelming desire to devour Robby right where we stood.

Except that what I planned on doing to him would be more proper outside the sanctity of my hoard. Some dragons didn’t care, but I liked to keep this space as pure as possible. Which meant leading Robby back toward the door. “I think we should get back in the bedroom,” I said to him, reaching down and grabbing his growing bulge. He nipped at my neck.

“Yes, please.”

His please did something to me. I growled and brought his face back up to mine, lips finding his. We stumbled back into my bedroom in a tangle of limbs and tongue. His hands roamed all over my body, my cock already rising at his touch. I pushed myself against him. I wanted him to know how hard he was making me.

He groaned. The heat inside me flared. A dragon’s fire ready to scorch down the walls that surrounded us.


Advertisement

<<<<5868767778798088>96

Advertisement