“One hundred percent sealed.”
“Shiiit.”
“Yeah.”
“Fine. I’ll wrap up what I’m working on and be there by tonight.”
“Thanks. By the way, did Mason talk to you about the ring?”
“What ring?”
“Never mind. I’ll tell you when you get here.”
“Biting my nails in anticipation,” Seb drawls.
“Wait! Can you call Ellison?” All I hear is a laugh and then the line goes dead. I guess that’s a no.
“How many dragons are you inviting here?” Fiona sits down at the table in the nook, dressed and ready for the day in jeans and a sweater. I squelch my disappointment. I’m in the sweats I pulled on when I went into her room this morning, and I was really hoping to get her back in bed after breakfast. I still will, but every article of clothing on her looks like an obstacle to me.
I turn back to the mixing bowl and crack in an egg. “The rest of the four will be here tonight. They’ll be able to assess the threat and keep you safe.”
She’s watching me intently, and all I feel down our bond is a sort of vague anxiety. She’s worried.
“I promise he won’t get his hands on you.”
I bring the phone to my ear and dial Remus. A quickrundown about what’s going on, and he quietly agrees to join us. I heat the skillet while I beat the pancake batter and ring Ellison. I don’t want to do it, but I’ll do anything to keep Fiona safe. He’s not as accommodating.
“I’m partner of a law firm, Connor. I can’t take off at a moment’s notice because your plan is finally coming together. Meet with him. Find out what we want to know and give him back his woman.”
“She’s not his woman. Not anymore,” I snap, and that possessive growl resonates down the line.
“Fuuuck. Is that a mating growl? That sounds like a mating growl.”
“Yeah.”
“How long?”
“Recent.”
“Fine.” He sighs. “Count me in. You are one colossal pain in the ass, Aries.”
“One you only have to deal with for another six days.”
“Fucking bastard.” He hangs up.
I toss my phone on the counter and pour a scoop of batter into the pan. “You want bacon?”
“Are we going to talk about this?” she says softly.
I do a double take and feel the tightness in my chest where the bond between us lives. The spiderweb that used to connect us is now a fiber-optic cable, and her rising apprehension is barreling into me. I pretend not to notice. “I can make sausage if you prefer.”
“I’m not talking about breakfast meats.” Her frown is a powerful cloud in an otherwise sunny room.
I turn back to the pan and flip the pancakes. “Then what are we talking about?”
She sighs. “You took me for a reason, and I can still serve that purpose.”
Everything slows. My inner dragon is on high alert, and I grind my teeth against a growl before turning to her again. “Maybe we should talk about the breakfast meat.”
