Page 144 of Nobody Told Me Thrift Shops Sell Stolen Dragon Heirlooms

No acknowledgment of Rafe’s bid.

Rafe’s hand tightened on the paddle, and he raised it higher.

The auctioneer didn’t call it. He kept his eyes on Dimitris, waiting.

Heat seemed to gather in the air beside me, and I was suddenly acutely aware that Rafe was no longer merely annoyed.

The woman seated on my other side shifted away by an inch.

Dimitris raised his paddle.

“Forty thousand,” the auctioneer said smoothly. “Do I hear forty-five?”

Rafe stood, and several heads turned in his direction.

The auctioneer finally looked at him, and for one second, his face showed panic before training covered it. “My apologies, sir. I didn’t see your bid.”

Rafe’s smile was so cold it should have required a weather advisory. “No,” he said. “You didn’t.”

The room held its breath.

The auctioneer coughed. “Forty-five from paddle twelve.”

Dimitris raised his paddle.

“Fifty.”

Rafe sat down and didn’t bid again.

“Sold to paddle thirty-two,” the auctioneer said.

This time, the applause was less enthusiastic.

Without taking his eyes off the stage, Rafe said, “You were right.”

“That feels less satisfying than usual.”

“If he does that when the mirror comes up⁠—”

“I know.”

His jaw shifted once, and a low growl rippled from him. Not loud enough to draw attention from anyone else, but I was seated so close to him, I couldn’t miss it.

My pulse jumped for reasons that were unhelpful and frankly embarrassing.

Then the auctioneer announced a fifteen-minute intermission.

People rose from their seats as staff appeared with trays of champagne and water. Conversations resumed in soft bursts, everyone politely pretending a dragon hadn’t almost turned the room into a legal incident over a wolf-shifter painting.

I touched Rafe’s sleeve. “I’m on it.”

He looked down at me. “On what?”

“I’m going to fix this.”

“No.”

“You don’t even know what I’m going to do.”