“I told him he could get rope alone. I didn’t know the unmated females lived here. This is my fault.” His eyes met mine. “I am sorry.”
Nerissa glared. “Youmoron.”
“Yes,” Canavar agreed without hesitation.
Nerissa threw her hands up. “I’ve mated an idiot.”
“Yes,” he repeated, smiling.
She groaned. The tension drained from the air—slowly, reluctantly—but it drained. The fighters backed off. The fire dimmed. The claws lowered.
“Benedict. We’re waiting,” Wren snarled.
He only hesitated a moment before moving toward me. I flinched on instinct, but he only held out his claws.
“I am sorry. Though if the females are right, I would like to spar with you. For fun,” he hurriedly added, shooting Wren a look.
Wren shook her head and muttered, “Drakens. I swear I need hazard pay.” Then she burst out laughing.
And just like that the danger passed.
But the strangest part? The reclusive females stepped closer. Not defensively, or even curiously. But approvingly.
“You’re strong,” Enya said simply.
“And fast,” Yazmine added.
“And adorable when startled,” Mara concluded.
I blinked. I had fought lions and dragons and men with spears. I had survived starvation and storms and blood sports. But nothing had ever confused me more than three females smiling at me like that.
I swallowed hard, rubbing the back of my neck.
“I—liked—sparring,” I admitted slowly. “With you.”
The three of them smiled wider, satisfied.
Kaida elbowed me. “See? You don’t want mates. You want equals. A draken male ahead of his time.” She glaredat a few of the unmated males, who squirmed under her judgement. “SOME MALES could learn from that.”
I froze.
Something inside me shifted like a blade realigning.
She was right.
I wasn’t drawn to them the way males should be. I wasn’t trying to breed. I wasn’t chasing heat or scent or instinct. I liked that they were strong, skilled, and fearless. That terrifying need inside of me, that clawed at my sanity and drove me crazy, loosened a bit.
For once in my life, I wasn’t the only weapon in the room. And it felt good. Freeing.
Nerissa clapped her hands abruptly, scaring half the cave.
“OK! Misunderstanding cleared. Veskor didn’t try to mate the recluses or anyone. But next time—” She stabbed a finger at me. “Send a message. Or a scream. Or throw a rock. Something.”
I nodded fervently. “Yes. I will throw rocks.”
Canavar groaned. “Not literally.”
“Yes literally,” Nerissa corrected. “Hit whoever you need to.”
