“It’s the mating sickness.”
“Zaire said this is the worst he’s ever seen you.”
“It gets worse each year, until we eventually go up in flames.”
“Or find a mate.”
He gives me a savage look and I want him, want him in a way that makes every other relationship I’ve ever had feel artificial. I’ve lived in a land of CGI, but I’m finally in the real world where things have texture, scent, and taste. Three dimensions.
I must be projecting my thoughts again because he sweeps me into his arms. His stride chews up the path to the house, and before I know it, we’re back inside, Bones trotting in behind us.
“Find Zaire, Bones.” Connor gestures toward the studio, and the dog lopes off.
Connor helps me out of my coat and then kneels to remove my boots.
“I can undress myself, you know,” I say through asmile because the truth is I’m enjoying this. “I’m not a child.”
He runs his thumb along the arch of my foot, and the warm pressure feels like it runs straight up my inner thigh to my core. When he smiles at me, it’s all dragon, hot and consuming, his penetrating gaze seeming to stir something deep within me.
“I don’t help you undress because you can’t do it yourself,” he says. “I help you undress because it gives me an excuse to touch you.”
His hand drifts up the inside of my ankle, along my inner calf to my knee. But when I look down into his eyes, I notice the neck of my dress has slipped and my scar is showing. I haven’t had sex since the accident. Even a few nights ago, when we made out in the dining room, I was mostly dressed. I know Connor has seen my scar—he saw it when he dressed me my first night here—but my stomach tightens into a ball of nerves when I think about him seeing it again now. The skin along the scar feels thicker than the rest of me. How will it feel between us? The idea of being fully naked in front of him is intimidating. From what I’ve seen of his body, he’s too perfect to be real.
“Fiona…” He stands and cups my face gently.
“Oh fuck! You’re reading my mind again, aren’t you?”
He shakes his head. “You’re projecting. I can’t help it. It’s like you’re screaming down the bond.”
“Oh hell.” I pull away from him and pace into the living room, crossing my arms against the deep discomfort of having my most intimate insecurities out in the open.
“You’re not the only one with scars.”
“Oh? Because I saw you with your shirt off, and there wasn’t a single imperfection on your body.”
I turn around and he’s there. One of his paddle-sized hands comes to rest in the small of my back and I sigh as he pulls me against him. He points to the scar through his right eyebrow. Funny, I’ve always known it was there, but it’s easy to lose sight of it when you’re blinded by the glow of his overall attractiveness. I roll my eyes. “If anything, that one makes you look even hotter. It doesn’t count.”
The sexy smirk he gives me sends my pulse skittering. “It counts. I almost lost my eye.”
“How did that happen?”
“I told you about my brother-in-law trading himself for Carolyn when she was captured.”
I nod.
“It was my job to get her out of there while the Order took him away in those glowing blue cuffs they use. Separating mates never goes well. She became a menace of claws and teeth. We weren’t off Order property when she shifted. The Order attacked, and we had to fight our way out. I had to shift in order to overpower her dragon form and carry her out of there by the neck.” My eyes must pop because he adds, “It sounds worse than it is. She wasn’t hurt, but I met the business end of one of their swords as I fought our way out. Morwyn saved the eye, but I have this.”
For some reason, revisiting this story makes me tremble. The wrongness of it. The pain the Order caused. All at once, I realize that Connor saved me from a terriblemistake when he carried me from that altar. I never actually knew Roman and I’d been rushing into something that could have destroyed me. I’ve refused to fully face it until now, but I know deep in my heart that all Connor has told me about the Order and about Roman is true. And I know now, as if the clouds have parted and I can finally see the clear blue sky, that I hate Roman. Hate everything the Order stands for.
“I’ll start a fire. You’re shivering.”
I grip him tighter. “No. I’m fine. God, you’re like a million degrees.” I press a hand to his cheek. “I just.... It wasn’t fair what happened to Carolyn.”
“At least I have my sister. The fever started again after Roger’s death, but she’s survived long enough to see Mason mated. That meant a lot to her.”
“She deserves that.”
“Tell me how you got your scar.” It’s a command, not a question. “Only fair. If we’re trading secrets, it’s your turn.”
