Page 50 of Dark Dragon’s Mate

And she walked out.

Oh my god. Had she actually conjured his underwear right out from under his pants?

Emon face-palmed, muttering about wolf dicks. Tristan was laughing fit to bust a gut.

“Goodnight,” Trish called to Tristan as Emon pulled her out of the room, still muttering. “Wet—I mean, sweet dreams!”

From down the hallway, she heard Mayah giggling before she cloaked herself and disappeared.

“We should do that too,” Emon said. “I don’t want people to see a lot of coming and going and figure out Tristan’s here. His wounds won’t be totally gone until morning.”

She felt a faint fizzle of energy as he drew a magical cloak around them, making them undetectable unless someone actually ran into them. Then he pushed her up against the corridor wall and kissed her thoroughly.

“Mmm,” he said, his lips still moving down her neck. “I’ve been wanting to do that for hours.”

Trish tilted her head so he could kiss that sweet spot right under her ear. She was buzzing all over. “What else do you want to do to me? You still haven’t shown me the sex dungeon.”

“It’s under construction,” he said, biting her neck gently. “Right now I’m taking you outside. Your wolf needs to run, and I need to try to talk to her.” He kissed her again, lingering on her lips. “So come on.”

Trish felt a trickle of fear. “So now you’re going to boss me around too?” she said, trying to keep it light.

He nipped her neck again. “Yup. I’m the Crown Prince, remember? Actually, technically I’m the king. I was born to boss people around, and you’re pretty much all I’ve got, besides Grange. Mayah stopped listening to me years ago, as you can tell.”

Trish said, “Are you kidding? You have tons of farmers and tradesmen and miners and shit living here. Go boss them.”

“Nah, too easy. All you have to do is dismember one or two of them, and the rest just turn into ‘yes’ men. And women. So boring.”

“Ha ha. Very funny.” But Trish was still resisting. She did not want to do this, did not want to give up control, did not want to be She-Wolf. Just did not.

Emon said, “If you and She-Wolf are ever going to get along, we have to start sometime. Come on.” And when she didn’t move, he added softly, “Trust me.”

He was doing this for her. He was probably going to get bitten again, and bleed, and he was willing to try. Just like he’d been willing to take his shirt off today and let her see his wound.

The least she could do was try too.

“Okay.”

Emon knew Trish was scared. He could see it in her eyes, once they were out near the woods, away from the castle. Her hands were shaking as she stripped out of her clothes.

He went over and put his hands on her shoulders. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m here. I’ll take care of you.”

She nodded, pressing her lips together. He backed up a few paces, and she Changed.

The Nightmare Wolf sprang into existence, lip already lifted in a snarl. She growled, eyes on him, every muscle poised, as if deciding whether to attack or run.

His dragon rose up inside him. Stop that, Emon said. I need to talk to her.

He pressed at Emon, who finally let him have his way. He Changed into the Darkwing Dragon, and he and the Nightmare Wolf faced each other.

Then his dragon spoke.

Emon didn’t expect an answer. He didn’t even know if she could hear his dragon when he wasn’t blasting commands at her.

But her voice came into his mind.

I am Layla. I am She-Wolf. I am alone.