Aura blinks when we tell her.
“A restaurant?” she repeats. “Like… in public?”
“Yes,” Kelan says calmly. “You will be safe with us.”
“I wouldn’t know what to wear,” she says, her hand fussing with her hair.
“The dress you tried on earlier,” I say.
“What are you going to wear?” she asks, glancing at our low-slung loose pants.
Darial smirks. “Afraid we’ll embarrass you?”
She snorts. “I’m afraid I’ll embarrass you.”
“Not possible,” Kelan says.
“Wait,” I say, already keen to dress in my finest fitted suit. I step closer and lift her chin gently, forcing her to meet my gaze. “You couldn’t embarrass us if you tried.”
She hesitates. Then nods.
In her dress, with a fur coat draped lightly over her shoulders and a blot of color across her lips, Aura looks like a dream. Kelan insists she wears jewels. Nothing heavy or ostentatious, but enough to mark her as claimed. With gold on her throat, fire opals at her ears, and a bracelet that glints every time she moves, she looks like the queen she is.
“You're ours,” Kelan says simply. “And the world will know how we cherish what’s ours.”
The dragon in me grows softly at that.
***
At the restaurant, heads turn, and conversations falter as we stride toward our reserved table. Aura stiffens at first, fingers caressing my arm, but when I lean in and murmur, “Eyes on me,” she exhales, allowing me to lead her to the best table in the house. My dragon responds to her proximity, scales stirring along my back, heat pooling low and dangerous. I keep it leashed, but barely, struggling to avoid thinking about what it felt like to knot inside her and watch her drip my seed.
We dine slowly on rich food, drinking wine, and talking.
Aura listens attentively as we discuss business. Kelan explains how we have accumulated our wealth over the years, and I watch her absorb it all, eyes alert and mind quick.
Aura shrugs, but it isn’t indifferent. It’s the quiet bewilderment of someone who has never been allowed the luxury of choosing a passion or pursuing something simply because it brings her joy. It seems almost foreign to her, as though the option should belong to another kind of woman entirely.
“What are your interests?” I ask, encouraging her.
“I used to paint,” she says. “Before… everything. I liked it. It makes me feel peaceful. I could forget everything going on in my life and channel beauty.”
My chest constricts.
“We can make that happen,” I say immediately.
Before Aura has a chance to object, Kelan sends a message, and Darial raises a toast in approval. “Here's to new beginnings.”
Aura hesitates, then clinks her glass against his. “To… not being eaten by dragons.”
We all stare at her, taken by surprise, and then we break into laughter.
I arch a brow. “We only eat people on specific occasions when they have been very, very bad.”
“I seem to remember a woman at this table writhing and begging when she was getting eaten by a dragon,” Kelan says.
Aura snorts, her giggle breaking free before she can stop it, and heat ripples beneath my skin. My scales stir briefly along my forearm before I force them back. She doesn’t notice as she’s too busy grinning into her drink.
Kelan’s gaze follows her with pride as she sets her glass onto the table and smooths her hair.
