Page 5 of Dark Dragon’s Wolf

His head throbbed, and he tasted blood. Fuck. Another nosebleed.

And something was still calling him.

Mayah?

He used to sense it sometimes, when she was having a bad dream. But now his brain was so scrambled he didn’t know what he was hearing.

Tristan…

He got up, almost without thinking.

“Tris?” Trish asked. “Is everything okay?”

“I’m just going to go check on Mayah.”

Emon frowned. “Is she all right?”

“Probably.” She was probably fine. She sure as hell didn’t need him. But his wolf was scrabbling at his insides. We go.

Zakerek, typing on his computer, said, “He’s still hoping she’s going to do the boinkety-boink with him, and he’s not going to have to fill out an online dating profile in order to get his dick—”

Before Tristan even thought about what he was doing, he’d tipped the red dragon’s chair over backwards and had his foot on the asshole’s neck. And he was snarling. “Shut. The fuck. Up. Or I’ll rip your throat out.”

Zakerek hissed at him.

Then Emon was on his feet, hauling Tristan back. “Don’t kill him, for fuck’s sake. Do you know how hard it is to find atherias miners?”

Atherias, a magical mineral, was the cash cow that financed this whole place. And Zakerek and the other red dragons were some of the few who could magic it out of the ground.

“I love you too, your fucking Majesty,” Zakerek said, picking up his chair and giving Tristan and Emon an evil glare. “I’m glad to see this clan is held together by bonds of caring and brotherhood.”

Emon snorted.

No one mentioned that Zakerek could have burned Tristan’s whole leg to a crisp with one fiery breath, even in human form—and he’d chosen not to.

Tristan should have cared about that, but he didn’t. He’d pick a fight with Zakerek or Cazbek or the Darkwing Dragon himself, the mood he was in.

We can take him, his wolf said.

Not even. Emon’s dragon could squash him like a bug.

“Well, keep your mouth off my sister,” Emon said to Zakerek. “Or I’ll be the one with my foot on your throat.”

Zakerek’s eyes went fiery red with slit-pupils, but he just flung himself back into his chair and pulled it up to the computer.

Emon turned to Tristan. “And you. Also keep your mouth off my sister—literally and figuratively. Or I’ll bite you.”

his dragon added, making sure Tristan could hear.

“Nobody’s biting anyone,” Trish said. “Sheeyit. What is wrong with you guys?”

“Says the woman who threatened to bite my dick off,” Cazbek said.

“She still might,” Emon darkly, sitting down again and glaring at everyone. “I could probably get over her wolf lips touching your dick if she bit it all the way off.”

“What the hell did I do?” Cazbek asked the room at large.

Tristan just turned and slammed out of the room. He really, really wanted to kill something. Maybe he should Change and hunt.