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“I did date some,” Amaru said as he got off the bed, putting his empty plate and cup on the cart. “Not a lot—honestly I was too work-oriented to pay attention to romantic gestures—but some. Every time I dated, it never felt quite right. I wasn’t able to put a finger on why. I knew none of the Tupã dragons were meant for me. Of course, it’s obvious now.”

“You were looking in the wrong clan.” Vasily reached out, snagged him by the waist, and drew him in to sit on his lap.

Dragon lap was acceptable, so Amaru sat, arm comfortably around Vasily’s shoulders. This unapologetic cuddling was absolutely, one hundred percent approved.

“I was. And now I have both of you, so really, I’m glad I didn’t push myself into a steady relationship when my instincts were warning me off. That said, there’s something we three need to talk about. Bonding?”

Luka leaned over the two-foot span separating them to take Amaru’s hand. His soft, gentle expression spoke only of love. “I’d like to. Very much. Can a bonding spell include all three of us?”

“Of course.” Amaru had to keep reminding himself that these two were new to the idea of polyamory. They hadn’t been raised realizing it was a possibility. “Even if it didn’t allow it, I’d damn well invent a spell that could. All right, hmm, I want a ceremony for this. You?”

Luka nodded firmly. “I do. Vas?”

“Of course I do. That goes without saying. But if we want a ceremony, we can’t bond now.”

Amaru flicked his fingers in a ‘that’s a given’ manner. “After this mess is settled. Say, in about six months. That should give me time to get my clan awake and back home, and us time to adjust to living together. Then we can plan something.”

“Sounds reasonable. Uh…” Vasily didn’t seem to quite know how to meet his eyes. “How do you feel about kids?”

Also an important topic, but his shyness asking just made Amaru’s evil side come out. “You’ll have to try harder to get me pregnant.”

Luka choked on air as he laughed, listing sideways on the edge of the mattress.

Exasperated, Vasily looked him dead in the eye this time. “You know good and well what I meant. With so few children, I feel obligated to have at least one or two.”

Amaru patted his chest soothingly. “Don’t worry, love, it’s fine. I like kids. We can discuss how many we actually want—”

Luka’s phone rang. It sounded like a song of some sort, and rather catchy. He rolled over the bed to the nightstand to fetch it, swiping Accept to answer.

“Yeah?” Luka’s expression went from pleased to pissed in a second flat. Impressive.

Still, that expression did not bode well.

“Shit. Seriously? Wait, how did you end up calling us? Of course you drew straws for this, of course you did. Okay, hang on.” Luka switched it over to speaker as he moved in closer, offering the phone to Amaru.

Amaru stared at it with severe misgiving. The screen had Gregori’s face on it, and there was no reason in heaven or under the earth for Gregori to be calling them unless it was to interrupt the sex marathon. “If I take that phone, will I have to put pants on?”

“Sorry,” Gregori responded, not sounding sorry in the least. “Even if you don’t take it, you need to put pants on.”

“I’m pretty sure I have a good counterargument for that.”

“Mine will be better. So, people over here think they’ve figured out how to wake everyone up. But they kinda need you.”

“Shit!” Amaru dove off Vasily’s lap and reached for the nearest pair of pants to be found, which were on the floor. “I’ll be there in a second—”

“Those are my pants,” Vasily pointed out patiently, taking them from his hands.

Oh. Right. Those wouldn’t fit. He dove for another pair. “Tell them to hold off for like, ten minutes.”

“Amaru, those are mine,” Luka protested.

“Eh.” He didn’t stop, tugged them completely on, then looked around for a shirt. Not to mention shoes.

Vasily translated this without trouble. “They were yours. Gregori, anything we need to bring with us?”

“Amaru.”

“Got it. See you in a few minutes, then.”

Amaru was not thrilled with this meeting. Luka could tell from his expression he was dangerously close to hexing Irany in a fit of pique, leaving, and going straight back to the hotel. From everything Luka had heard from him—and observed on his own—he couldn’t blame him. This was not a mess of Amaru’s making, which had to grate. Worse, his entire clan was in danger, and he couldn’t immediately fix it. For an engineer-type like Amaru, that was claws on a chalkboard, right there.

For the safety of everyone else in this tent, Luka might have to dive for Amaru and distract him with kisses. For science.

Evora had a coffee carafe and mugs on hand, her ever-present tablet, and snacks. She was a woman well prepared for an early morning meeting. Luka expected nothing less. Thiago sat in a chair next to her, not looking entirely awake but there for moral support.

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