Page 9 of Billionaire Dragon King’s Rejected Mate

Chance fell into step beside her and tried not to look as pleased as he felt. Anonymous. Unfiltered. Completely unexpected.

Yeah… this might be the best decision he’d made all day. Right along with the worst.

Beside him, Randi pushed damp hair back from her forehead and squinted against the sun. She had changed out of her work shirt and now wore a loose tank dress over her swimsuit with the strap slipping slightly off one shoulder. She grinned like a kid who’d just been handed the keys to a candy store.

“Snow cones,” she declared and pointed across the crowded midway. “Priority one.”

Chance followed her gaze to a bright stand painted with cartoon waves and palm trees. He nodded easily enough, though his attention had already snagged on something else.

Her wrist.

His dragon reacted to the tattoo again even as his head made up excuses to stay close to her until he had the story behind it. If his cover was about to be exposed, he needed to know. And justifying the need to stay close to her came easily.

They reached the kiosk and ordered blue raspberry for her and cherry lime for him. The teenager behind the counter packed the ice into flimsy cones and drowned them in syrup while a line formed behind them.

Randi accepted hers with an appreciative hum.

“Oh wow,” she said after the first bite. “Brain freeze is worth it.”

Chance smiled faintly, though his eyes had already dropped again. There it was.

Her fingers curled around the paper cone, leaving the inside of her wrist exposed.

The tattoo was small, no bigger than a silver dollar, but unmistakable. The royal crest of Stagholt.

Chance’s chest tightened and the noise of the waterpark faded into something distant and hollow, like he’d ducked underwater.

He forced himself to breathe normally.

Don’t react. Don’t stare.

He took a slow sip of melting cherry ice and gestured casually toward her wrist.

“That’s a pretty detailed tattoo,” he said lightly. “What’s the story behind it?”

Randi glanced down, as if she’d forgotten it was there.

“Oh. That?” She shrugged, licking a streak of syrup from her thumb. “Nothing exciting.”

Chance waited.

She gave him a crooked grin. “Teenage dragon phase.”

He blinked. “Dragon phase.”

“Yeah.” She waved the cone dismissively. “You know how it is. Fifteen-year-old me was very committed to the whole fantasy aesthetic. Dragons, swords, weird medieval symbols.” She rolled her eyes at herself. “It seemed cooler at the time.”

Chance studied her face. It was too casual and too rehearsed.

The crest on her wrist was no random fantasy symbol. Anyone raised around the courts of the Northern kingdoms would recognize it instantly.

Which meant one of two things. She knew exactly what it was or she’d been marked with it. Either way, she was lying.

“Right,” Chance said easily and forced a half-laugh. “Teenage dragons. Can’t say I missed that phase by much.”

Her smile relaxed a little, like she was glad he’d accepted the explanation.

They wandered away from the kiosk and into the winding pathways between attractions. Kids ran past them and somewhere a whistle blew near the wave pool.