“I doubt it, ma’am,” the solicitor said coolly. “There are laws punishing the use of magic against humans.”
“You better start packing, dear,” Ronda hissed at Rhavor. “Or accept me.”
Sylvie saw Ronda’s bodyguards pulling suitcases from the limo.
“Ehm,” she said softly. “You forgot something, dear.”
Ronda turned sharply.
“You are not the only female human on this farm.”
“Mrs. Rye Bun,” Ronda sneered. “Better keep an eye on your yeast.”
“Her yeast has more class than you, dear,” Julian shot back.
This woman has already used herself to get what she wanted. She’s not doing it again.
“Shove your suitcases back into your limo,” Sylvie said. “I’m staying with Rhavor.”
He turned to her, stunned.
“You don’t have to,” he said quietly.
“I want to,” she admitted, smiling softly.
“Well, dear,” Julian added theatrically, “shove your skinny ass back into your limo. This town can’t handle your brand of trouble.”
The lawyer coughed. “I must remind you, regardless of who is staying here, the deposit deadline still stands. One week from today for the full repayment.”
Rhavor’s shoulders sagged—“I don’t have that kind of money on hand.” He clenched his fists.
“It’s not about the farm, is it?” Sylvie stepped toward Ronda. “You don’t even want the dirt. You just want to take everything he has because he doesn’t want you.”
Ronda’s smile turned jagged. “I hope your bakery is large enough for a dragon, honey. You might have to sell your ovens. Maybe two.”
“And once we reclaim the land,” the father added, “we develop. It’s an excellent location for a mall.”
Rhavor’s jaw hardened. The scent of ozone and scorched cedar intensified.
“You’ve said enough,” he growled, the sound a warning shot. “You’ve trespassed on my land and insulted my guests. Leave—before my goodwill expires. And believe me, it’s currently at zero.”
The bodyguards didn’t wait for a second invitation. They scrambled back toward the limo.
“I’d hurry!” Julian called cheerfully. “Unless you’re eager to witness a dragon’s full temper! It’s a bit messy!”
The limo doors slammed, gravel spraying like buckshot as it retreated down the drive. Only then did Sylvie finally exhale.
Everything had shifted. The fairy lights were still glowing, the music was returning, and the auction was resuming, but the world felt different.
She was living with a dragon. She was sharing his house.
And she was absolutely, categorically, not thinking about the bed.
Fuck.
She was definitely thinking about the bed.
Chapter 20: Rhavor
