I awoke gasping and sweating, my cock hard and my knot throbbing. I furiously worked myself up and down with my fist until I spilled my seed all over the sheets. I bit down on my pillow so savagely that I tore a hole in it, and fluffy little feathers filled the room.
I only ever have my Omega in my dreams. Never in my arms.
Shar and Zeith roar at each other, goaded by their riders’ anger. Scourge is crossing the dragongrounds toward them, red eyes blazing and smoke pouring from his nostrils. I’ll have to break this fight up before scales are shredded.
Keep the dragons from fighting, I think to Nilak.
She launches into the sky and dives down between the three males with a scream, forcing them back with lashes of her tail and bursts of dragonfire.
Good girl. I’ll take care of these idiots.
Onderz, blinded by rage, swings a punch at me. I duck, and while he’s overbalanced, I shove him to the ground. Seeing me lay hands on his friend, Zabriel launches at me with a roar. With an annoyed sigh, I twist so he misses me, and I put my boot against his back and make him eat dust as well.
“All of you—” But I break off as Emmeric draws his sword.
I slam my fist into his stomach so hard that he’s winded, and he drops the sword. With the toe of my boot, I fling the sword into the air and catch it by the hilt.
“No fighting on my dragongrounds,” I growl through my teeth.
The prince is seething with rage. His eyes are wild and manic. I’ve never seen him like this before. “Fuck off, Stesha.”
“That’sdragonmaster,” I seethe, “and you don’t tell me to fuck off.”
Zabriel and Onderz are both itching to hit something.
“Stay away from my Omega,” Onderz roars, and charges at Emmeric.
The next instant, the three of them are scuffling and throwing punches. I wade in and pull them apart. They each try hitting me, but despite what they might believe about themselves, none of them are seasoned fighters, and they haven’t been training hard enough. I would like to bloody their noses even more than they’ve already bloodied them, and knock some teeth out, but I reel in my temper, put Emmeric in a headlock, and wind the other two with my fist so they stagger backward, wheezing.
I take a look around while Emmeric struggles and swears in my grip. Nilak has prevented Shar and Zeith from rippingchunks off each other. Scourge, unlike his rider, has kept his head and hasn’t attacked the other dragons.
My dragon lowers her head and snarls at Zabriel and Onderz, sparks dancing around her teeth, daring them to continue the fight. Both of them push their hair back, straighten their riding leathers, and lower their fists.
A wise choice.
Emmeric is beating on my thighs, and I tighten my arm around his throat until he makes a choking sound. He stops fighting me and puts his efforts into drawing breath.
I address all three of them with the prince locked under my arm. “I expected better from all of you. This is shameful Alpha behavior. If you wish to fight, take it to the sparring grounds and hit each other with wooden swords. Is that clear?”
There are a few mumbled yeses.
“Yeswhat?” I shout.
“Yes, dragonmaster,” they mutter.
“Report to Captain Harding. You’re all shoveling wyvern shit for the next week.” I release Emmeric with a shove.
Instead of following the other two, Emmeric stumbles and then turns to face me. “You think you’re so clever, but you don’t know what’s right under your nose.” There’s a nasty grin on his face as blood pours over his lips. He glances at something behind me and then back at me. “You’re going to be miserable forever, you stupid old bastard. I wish I could be here to see it.”
“Planning on hurling yourself into the ocean?” I ask him.
Emmeric laughs, a short, sharp exultation. He turns and follows the other two.
I turn around and see that Zenevieve is behind me, her hand on Minta’s neck.
I stride closer and see that she’s turned a little pale, and she’s casting a worried look at the three young men’s retreating backs.
“Are you all right?” I ask her.
