We drifted off, eventually, the bond a warm blanket over both of us. My last thought before sleep was of Bryce, safe and dreaming down the hall, his own magic quiet at last.
And me, mated to a dragon, with the whole world ahead of us.
Chapter 23
Zaden
I wokewith the taste of Krystal still on my lips, and the faint, iron-sweet ache of her mating bite at my shoulder. Morning pressed through the blinds in slices, banding the bed in light and shadow, and I lay there for a minute, letting the world settle into focus. The mate bond pulsed strong and steady under my skin, a low current that buzzed behind my ribs and throbbed in the place where her teeth had claimed me. Every muscle in my body was both wrung-out and hungry for more.
I traced the bite, grinning when the pressure made a fresh wave of heat roll down my spine. I stretched, groaning as the covers slid off my hips, and listened. Krystal in the kitchen, moving with a focus that said she’d already been up a good hour. Bryce, much fainter, in the back room. The kid was probably still asleep. He'd been exhausted. I couldn’t hear his heartbeat as clearly as I could Krystal’s, but the mate bond threaded out to him too, a line of fragile gold that shimmered in the edges of my mind.
The memory of last night replayed, spiked with flashes of sweat, laughter, and Krystal’s wild howl when I bit down at the finish. Irolled out of bed, planting both feet on the worn hardwood. The world outside sounded normal. Birds, a dog barking next door, the faint rush of a delivery truck, but my brain ticked faster than ever, slicing through the humdrum to catalog every threat, every out-of-place scent or vibration. The dragon never slept in.
I padded naked to the dresser, grabbed a pair of shorts, and tugged them on. The bite on my shoulder had already stopped bleeding, but it stung with a good pain, like a new tattoo. I flexed my arm, checking the range of motion, then caught my reflection in the cracked closet mirror. I looked the same as ever, bedhead a mess, jaw in need of a shave, but the eyes were different. Bright, clear, almost golden. I looked like a man who knew what he wanted and had it.
I headed to the kitchen, following the smell of coffee and toast. Krystal stood at the counter, hair twisted into a bun and t-shirt tied off at her waist. She poured coffee into two mismatched mugs. I put my hands on her hips and dipped my head to nuzzle her neck.
She shivered, then leaned into me. "Morning, sunshine," she said, passing me a mug. Her fingers lingered on mine, and she grinned at the fresh mark on my shoulder.
"Morning, little wolf." I kissed her cheek, then took a long swallow of coffee. "You make a habit of trying to chew through your lovers?"
"Only the ones I want to keep around," she said. "You sleep okay?"
I shrugged, stretching. "Like the dead. You?"
Her eyes flicked past my shoulder, toward the hallway. "I was up before dawn. Bryce had a nightmare." She hesitated. "He didn’t want to talk about it."
"He’s tough. But he’s had a hell of a week."
She looked at me, something tight in her jaw. "He asked if you’d still be here in the morning."
I grinned, my dragon prancing. "I’ll be here every morning." I meant it. The bond wouldn’t let me lie about a promise like that.
She smiled, but the worry lines stayed etched at her eyes.
Bryce shuffled into the room, hair sticking up in cowlicks, pajamas rumpled. He blinked twice, eyes glassy with sleep, then dropped into a chair at the table. He didn’t look at me, but I watched him for a minute, scanning the set of his shoulders, the way his hand hovered at his temple.
"Hey, kiddo," I said, trying for casual.
He made a noncommittal noise and started picking at a piece of toast. He didn’t look sick, but there was a new fatigue at the corners of his mouth, like he’d been awake longer than he let on.
Krystal passed him orange juice, then knelt next to his chair. "You okay?"
He nodded, still silent. Then, without warning, he said, "I dreamed I was flying. But I fell at the end, and I hit the ground." He looked up at me, something haunted behind the brown of his eyes. "Why do I feel so tired, Dad?"
The question punched harder than it should. I crouched by the table, so we were eye level. "Your body’s working overtime, kid.All that magic, all that power? It’s a lot, even for a dragon. Or a wolf."
He frowned. "But I’m both."
Krystal’s hand curled over his. "You’re the best parts of both," she said. "But sometimes it’s too much. That’s why you have us."
He looked at her, then at me, and nodded, as if this was a problem he could tackle with enough willpower.
I watched the tremor in his fingers, the way he rubbed his temples between every bite of toast. The mate bond didn’t just tether me to Krystal. It sharpened every protective instinct, every warning bell. The dragon in me wanted to scoop Bryce up, fly him to the tallest mountain, and stand guard until whatever threatened him was dead or gone.
I remembered Vivienne’s words, and the chill in her eyes as she’d watched Bryce come apart. "A male dragon-born witch almost unheard of." Even in dragon history, the odds were microscopic. And Vivienne wasn’t the only one who would want to study him or use him.
I locked eyes with Krystal, letting the urgency show in my face. She nodded, already ahead of me.
