I'd wanted to cut them loose entirely and wipe the ledger of them out of my life for good.
But my mother's voice sat in my brain. She would have been furious if I’d easily let them go. The Fox had taken those girlswhen they were children, forced them into servitude for me, and shaped their entire lives around the duty of dressing, feeding, and keeping me comfortable.
The least I owed them was the money it took to learn how to live without me.
They now had a new monthly allowance that provided enough for tuition, an apartment in Kensington, and food.
And I had a fresh start with my Tiger.
I took one last look in the mirror. The gold beading shimmered in the light and threw tiny sparks across the ceiling. The dragon-tiger pin sat over my heart as if she intended to brand me.
Naughty Tiger.
I smirked.
Someone knocked.
I crossed the room and opened it, and for a moment I just stared.
Reo stood in the hallway, and I almost didn't recognize him either. He wore a black tuxedo and black shirt with a tie the color of oxblood.
How did she know that red was his favorite color?
The suit cut close. The jacket pulled across his shoulders, clean and exact.
The color shifted when he moved his arm, making it appear more dark and wet.
Yet, the pin on his lapel sharpened everything. It was an opened dragon’s jaw, forged in gold and curved in an arc across the lapel. Each fang was carved and polished to a pale gleam.
I parted my lips and stepped closer.
Within the open curve of the dragon's jaw, thin concentric rings fanned outward, representing the rambunctious sound coming out of the dragon.
Aww. The Dragon’s Roar. Nice touch, Tora.
Reo’s hair was actually styled. Swept back from his face, the sides tapered, the top structured. He looked like he belonged on a magazine cover, not standing outside my door nervously cracking his knuckles.
Reo took me in. “The Heart outdid herself. She dressed you. Right?”
“Yes.”
He quirked his brows. "Do you like what I’m wearing?"
It was such an odd question to come from the Roar. Never had he asked me such a thing. Still, I shrugged. “I do.”
"Your Heart dressed me too."
Pride hit me. Then, jealousy. Would this always be the battling state within my chest when my Tiger took care of my men? Love and envy. Gratitude and rage.
My Tiger had dressed him, assessing his body, his coloring, his build, and selected clothes for him the same way she'd selected mine. She'd thought about his measurements. His preferences. The shape of his neck above a collar.
I smiled, yet gritted my teeth.
I knew it was irrational, but dragons were possessive territorial beasts that hoarded treasure.
I cleared my throat. "You look good."
Reo brushed his finger over the lapel. “Thank you.”
