Page 2 of Dark Dragon’s Wolf

“It’s more of a suggestion than a rule,” Emon said. Trish shook her head, rolling her eyes.

Cazbek glanced down at his crotch. “Okay. Anybody got a camera?”

Trish said, “A) they don’t allow dick pics. Definitely a rule. And B) if you pull that thing out in front of me, I’m going to go Nightmare Wolf and bite it off.”

Emon looked up from his book. “Hey!” He frowned at Trish. “You’d seriously put your wolf lips on another dragon’s dick?”

Trish patted his arm. “Only my teeth. To mangle it beyond repair.”

“Still not allowed.” Emon gave a low growl.

Trish leaned over and kissed his shoulder. “Don’t be jealous. You’re the only dragon for me. Even if I had to bite another one, I wouldn’t enjoy it.”

Emon rolled his eyes a little and shook his head, but his face went soft as he looked down at her. Trish returned his gaze for a moment, her heart in her eyes, before going back to her book.

Emon went on with his research, a little smile lifting the corner of his mouth.

Tristan watched them, hot envy spiking through him. He wanted that. He wanted the passion and the understanding, someone who could calm his wolf with a touch or a smile, the way Trish could calm Emon’s dragon.

Someone who wanted his heart, and didn’t mind about his tattered and broken soul.

Cazbek sighed, staring at the laptop screen. “This is harder than I thought. Earth customs are confusing.”

“Yup,” Emon said unsympathetically. “It’s possible you’ll never get laid.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Cazbek turned to Zakerek. “What are you putting for your favorite movie?”

“None of your fucking business,” Zakerek snarled.

“Geez, okay,” Cazbek said. “Just FYI, though, I’m pretty sure you’re not going to get laid either.”

At that moment, the computer screens flickered, and the beer fridge in the corner sputtered. “Dammit,” Emon said, looking up from his book again. “What’s wrong with the generator now?”

The castle lights ran on magic, but the computers ran on electricity from a generator that had been brought over from Earth. Lately it had been fritzing out.

Cazbek stopped what he was doing and looked around like the answer was hanging in mid-air somewhere. Zakerek typed faster, as if afraid of losing what he was doing. He finished whatever it was and leaned back in his chair. The electricity sputtered one more time, and then everything went back to normal.

Emon sighed and picked up a golden ball from a stand in front of him. It was a communication device, sort of a magical Skype. “Mikah,” he said into it. There was a musical chime, and then the face of the third red dragon appeared in the ball.

“What is it, Your Majesty?” he asked.

Emon heaved a martyred sigh. “I told you not to call me that.”

Mikah’s new job was Head Steward for the whole kingdom—basically, Emon’s Secretary of Pretty Much Everything.

He was taking it way too seriously.

Emon went on, “Have you managed to figure out what’s overloading the generator? It just fritzed again.”

Mikah shook his head. “I’ve asked Flynn if he’ll bring Tank over to look at it next time he comes. I barely understand how it works.”

Emon’s sister Kira’s mate, Flynn, owned a construction company on Earth with his crew Second, Tank. Both of them were pretty decent at electrical work, and—since it was family—willing to work for whiskey.

“I hope it doesn’t blow all the computers before that,” Emon said. “Back up your work, people. Except Cazbek.”

“Is there anything else, Your—” Emon gave a dragon growl, and Mikah broke off. “I mean, Emon. I’ll just be going then…”

His face disappeared and the ball went blank.