His scent, still swirling around me, is dotted with fear. For a guy like Xaze to be scared means this Maggard dude is no joke.My dragon growls, releasing a smoky breath that pours out of me.
“We’ll keep him safe,” I say aloud, rubbing my chest.
Gods of fire, I hope I can.
Back downstairs, I wait for Xaze with Dempsey and Dahlia, all of us glancing up the stairs to wait for the demon. He doesn’t come back after several minutes, and I’m just about to bolt up there and make sure nothing’s wrong when he appears.
He’s wearing skintight leather pants and a sheer white top that falls in silky folds around his skin. His pebbled pink nipples are on full display, and my cock stirs.
Not now.
On his feet are knee-high silver boots with dramatic heels, and as he descends the stairs, I have a startling thought.
My demon is stunning.
My. Demon.
There’s no arguing or correcting my dragon. He’s clearly laid claim to something we can’t keep, but that’s a problem for another day.
“Sorry,” he says as he reaches me. “I realized I didn’t buy much in the way of casual clothes.”
“You look amazing,” Dempsey gushes. “Just as a demon should look.”
I turn and growl at my brother’s mate, surprising both of us. Dempsey jumps behind Dahlia, who puts her hand out protectively.
“Down boy,” she says. “It was just a compliment.”
Clearing my throat, I mumble, “Stupid dragon” before stealing a glance at a preening Xaze. “Sorry, Demps. We should go.”
“I texted Lord and let him know we’re on the way over,” Dahlia says, taking Dempsey’s hand in hers.
I put my arm around Dempsey’s shoulder and muss his hair in brotherly affection. He smiles up at me, adjusting his glasses.
“I know you can’t help it,” he whispers.
Choosing to ignore the comment and the insinuation behind it, I simply nod. Xaze is right beside me, his arm bumping mine and leaving sear marks on me as we walk. When our eyes meet, he shrugs. His demon can’t help but mark me, and my dragon can’t help but claim him.
Fucking hell.
MONTROSE
The closer weget to the big brother’s house, the more armor I put in place. Metaphorically, anyway. I know Tino’s brothers don’t like or trust me, and this is the equivalent of walking into a viper den filled with holy water, but I don’t have a choice. Besides, I can’t sit back and let the baby dragon get hurt. Tino would never recover, and for some damn reason, that matters to me.
The front door of the majestic property opens, and Hemingway appears, spreading his arms for his mate and shooting eye daggers at his brother.
“You upset him.”
Tino shrugs, muttering something I can’t decipher but which seems to be meaningful to Hemingway. His expression softens and he nods as he brushes kisses to his mate’s cheek.
“It’s fine, Hem,” Dempsey says, all flushing cheeks and radiant aura. The man is the personification of happiness and purity.
We enter the house and head to the living room, where Lake is telling some kind of story that amuses the others. Poets could write for ages about the way Nico gazes at his mate perchedon his lap. That’s what adoration looks like. Their shared auras pulse around them, a fiery mix of oranges, reds, and yellows. Beautiful.
Arson and his wolf sit together at the end of a long sofa, their hands entwined, and their legs pressed together, as if they can’t stand not to be touching for even a few minutes. Arson’s chaotic energy twists like a tornado above him, bumping and mixing with Draydon’s darker spirit. Mm, tasty. That’s what pure devotion and a shared lust for life looks like.
Hemingway sits in an armchair, pulling Dempsey onto his lap, and his dragon audibly purrs. Hemingway has a cool, understated power about him, but Dempsey’s light and sunshiny aura wraps around them like a blanket. That’s what undying love looks like.
I shift my attention to Lord, the clear leader of the family. He’s as unreadable as a brick wall, not giving me an ounce of emotion, energy, or experience to feed on. Perhaps that’s why he runs things. He’s impenetrable, even for an incubus.
