Page 16 of Dark Dragon’s Mate

He did like them; they were shiny, like her top. Covered in gold and silver sparkly glitter, and they had some kind of chunky heels on them that somehow made her legs look even hotter.

“Thanks,” she said, turning her foot this way and that, catching the light. “I have some for every mood. Purple are my favorite, but you gotta match the outfit.”

He wondered what the mood of this particular outfit was supposed to be. Sexy? Formal? Dragon-defying?

She added, “Glitter sneakers are my secret vice.”

He said, “I thought gothic novels were your secret vice. And sex from behind while wearing chains. You’re stacking up the vices, my wolfy friend.”

“I have an endless supply of vices,” she said, gazing up into his eyes with her cornflower-blue ones, a hint of a secret smile hovering on those tasty-as-fuck lips. “You have no idea.”

There went the boner again.

He went to the sideboard and opened a drawer, pulling out three more knives, perfectly balanced for throwing. He held them out to her, hoping she wouldn’t notice his erectile situation.

“I’ll even give you three chances,” he said.

“Such a gentleman,” she murmured.

Not even a little bit.

She took the knives, weighing one in her hand, then grasped the tip and hefted it to feel the balance. “Nice,” she said.

She backed up a bit to get a good line of fire at Ragnor, flexed her elbow a couple of times to line up her shot, and threw.

Thwak. Thwak. Thwak.

All perfect shots. Right eye. Throat. And…

Crotch.

Emon winced. “Was that last one really necessary?”

She shrugged. “Still more civilized than watching crows eat his face off.”

Emon wasn’t so sure about that.

You would have thought that seeing her impale Ragnor in the nuts would have taken the edge off his lust, but no. Apparently, watching a woman go all lethal and badass was a turn-on for him.

“I won the bet,” she said, turning to him. “What do I get?”

He could think of about a dozen things he wanted to give her. One of them was currently about to burst out of his pants.

“How about a drink?”

“What have you got? The blood of your enemies, maybe?” She was teasing him. He loved the way it made her eyes dance and her mouth turn up at the corners.

“I’m out of that. I’m waiting for someone to piss me off so I can restock.”

The smile deepened, and it was all he could do not to ravish her right here.

Instead, he went to the sideboard. He knew what he wanted to give her. Something special, magical. Something she’d always remember.

He chose a decanter of golden liquid and a goblet made of atherias—the magic-infused mineral that was the most valuable thing he possessed.

It was a deep purple with a faint rainbow sheen. He uncorked the decanter and poured the liquid into the goblet, holding it out towards her.

She reached for it, but he shook his head. “Wait for it,” he said softly.