Page 66 of Brushed By Moonlight

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There was knowing, and there wasknowing. Which applied to Mina and that policeman?

Either way, I wanted to kill him. Too bad civilized dragons didn’t do such things.

My beast side rumbled.Civilized? Since when?

Since Mina. At least, I was trying.

“And you are…what exactly?” Bene tried, oh-so casually.

Roux, Henrik, and I leaned in. That was the million-dollar question. What powers did my destined mate — er, Gordon’s goddaughter — have, if any?

“Your host,” she snipped, handing him a pepper shaker.

Which only made the mystery that much more irresistible, like the rest of her.

Bene grinned, letting it go. “Well, hopefully the cop doesn’t make any trouble for us.”

“Simple solution if he does.” Henrik let the points of his fangs extend.

And boy, did Mina jump all over that one. She whirled and stuck a finger in Henrik’s face.

“Don’t you dare,” she growled. “Don’t you dare touch him.”

And, fuck. That wasn’t just out of principle. She cared about the guy. What did that mean for me? For us?

There is no us,I tried telling myself.

No, but there will be,my dragon hummed confidently.

Mina went on fiercely. “If there’s trouble around here, Clement is not the one causing it. You guys are — whether or not you intend it.”

“You mean, like that punch Roux caught you with?” Henrik reminded the tiger shifter.

Roux bared his teeth.

“All right, everyone. Give the cook a little elbow room, please.” Bene brandished the spatula.

“You’re the one who rang the bell,” I grumbled.

“Yes. About that…” Mina started.

“Oh, look,” Bene cut in, dodging the subject. “Brunch is ready. Everyone grab a plate and meet me in the dining room.”

You had to give it to the lion shifter. He knew how to clear a room quickly.

Twenty minutes later, we were scraping our plates clean and leaning back in our chairs.

“You should fire Claudette and hire Bene,” I half joked.

Mina grimaced. “I might have to, now that she’s left town.”

Pity,Henrik’s frown said.

Mina sighed, then flapped a hand. “More importantly…the intruder.”

“Fucking Szabo…” I muttered.

“Are you sure it’s him?” she asked.