Nyx’s Pixie

Nyx's PixieSometimes big things come in small packages.

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Nyx has found a possible mate, but he’s pretty certain Fate made a mistake. Not only is his mate working in a brothel, which is playing merry hell with Nyx’s possessive side, he’s also a Pixie. Pol is small and delicate, and Nyx is certain he would break the poor man within a week. Nyx will just wait until the next candidate comes around. The fact that this is the first potential mate he’s come across in several hundred years is, of course, beside the point. Unfortunately, no matter how hard Nyx tries, he can’t keep away. When he finds himself on the verge of turning into a stalker, Nyx gives in to the inevitable and goes traipsing off to claim his Pixie.

When Nyx comes sweeping into Pol’s life, he’s thrilled to accept the dragon as his mate. No one would call Nyx charming, yet he still manages to sweep Pol off his feet—quite literally, at times. Once the first flush of lust wears off, though, Pol begins to worry that he’s made a mistake. The problem isn’t Nyx. Pol is well on his way to loving the reserved dragon. But Pol is harboring a dangerous secret. A secret with the potential to upset the balance of power in Faerie…

“It’s not much,” Nyx admitted when they reached the middle. “I think the last owner must have taken a few things.”

That was an understatement. Where Pol had expected a haven, he found a blank, empty circle of stone. It looked like there might have been a statue in the middle at one point, but it was gone, leaving behind a patch of dirt punctuated randomly by shaggy patches of grass.

That was all right. It meant he got to put his own touch to the place.

“I’ll make it beautiful,” he promised. “A few benches, a flower pot or two. Maybe a fountain. It will be wonderful.”

“I imagine so.” Nyx wasn’t looking at the garden. Pol blushed, still not used to the way Nyx stared at him with such heat and want. And longing. Damn, but the longing made Pol ache, and not always in a good way.

Doesn’t Nyx know I’m his for the taking?

He decided to remind the dragon. Pol reached up, tugging until Nyx bent down enough for a kiss.

“Thank you,” Pol whispered, brushing their lips together with light touches.

“You’re very welcome.” Nyx’s eyes sparkled, his pleasure evident.

“We should explore some more,” Pol declared. “Maybe test out some of the furniture.”

There, he should be able to figure that one out.

“I could be persuaded.” Nyx kissed him one more time, then pulled away. Pol was glad to see the reluctance in the action, even while he wanted to yank Nyx back.

“We should check upstairs. See if it’s furnished.”

“You do have good ideas.”

Nyx hooked their arms together—it was a bit of an awkward reach—and led the way back indoors. Pol leaned his weight against Nyx’s side as they strolled through the greenery.

“Make a list,” Nyx said, stroking Pol’s side through the many layers of fabric. “Anything you want, hmm? I want you to be happy here.”

“I will be,” Pol promised. “I could be happy in a cave if you were there, and this is far from a cave.”

Wait, why did that comment make Nyx look guilty? Oh…dragon. Cave. Maybe Pol should reassure Nyx, but he couldn’t bring his mouth to form the words. It wasn’t a secret. Pol liked his comforts. He could live in a cold, damp cave if absolutely necessary, but he would really prefer not to.

“Don’t worry,” Nyx whispered into Pol’s ear. “I don’t like caves much, either. I’ve even already brought part of my hoard here. This is home now.”

“Your hoard—oh.” They had taken a different route back through the house, ending up in what looked like a sitting room. Or rather, what had been a sitting room. Now, it looked more like the inside of a bank vault. Gold and jewels were piled on every surface and glittering in heaps on the floor. “Isn’t this a little unsafe?” Pol had visions of black-masked thieves and chortling villains in flowing capes. He probably read too many sensational novels.

“Dragon’s hoard,” Nyx reminded him. “No one is stupid enough to steal from a dragon’s hoard.”

“I don’t know. There are a lot of stupid people in this world.” Pol could think of at least four offhand who fit the description.

Nyx was still, apparently, not worried. He nuzzled Pol again. “You look so pretty. A treasure surrounded by treasures.”

“Thanks. I think.” Pol wasn’t certain whether he should be pleased or offended. He didn’t particularly want to be owned. He kept reminding himself that dragons didn’t think like most creatures.

“Mmm-hmm. Prettiest of all treasures.” Nyx went from nuzzling to kissing. He moved his hand down, cupping Pol’s arse briefly before squeezing. Between the touch and Nyx nibbling on his ear, Pol forgot all about treasures and thieves. His world narrowed to Nyx and the piercing green eyes surveying him with such heat.

Nyx lowered him to a clear spot on the floor. A pile of coins towered over his head precariously. Pol squirmed and yanked a diamond necklace out from under his back.

“Can we try a bed this time?” he teased.

“I want to take you surrounded by my other pretties,” Nyx insisted.

“Why don’t you grab a few and bring them with us? Then you can have comfort and jewelry.”

“I suppose.”

Then Nyx was kissing him, and Pol decided the floor would be just fine after all.

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