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I grabbed a black cloak from our butler’s arms and started running down the road.
Anselm, with his longer legs, ran past me and Stavrok was hard on my heels.
Iain shifted back to human form just as we reached him. “Here,” I called out to them, throwing the cape over Iain’s shoulders. Anselm quickly fastened the buttons, then Stavrok ducked down and lifted his son, heaving him up over his shoulder before running back to the castle entrance.
Anselm and I gaped at the speed with which he’d scooped Iain up, shared an incredulous look, then ran after them.
Stavrok bounded up the steps with ease, as if Iain weighed nothing at all. When we reached the foyer, Stavrok was already marching toward the main living room.
Inside, the fire was roaring and I rushed over to the fireplace to warm my chilled bones while Stavrok lay Iain on a nearby couch. Iain was shaking and his teeth were chattering.
I didn’t think about how it would look. I ran over to the couch, jumped on top of Iain’s half naked body, and lay down beside him, spreading my warm, thick cloak over the both of us to cocoon in whatever body warmth we could.
“What are you...”
“Shut up,” I whispered, stealing my arm around his middle and pressing my flesh to his.
I lay my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes, embarrassed on a level I had never experienced before. But I refused to move. He needed to warm up, and fast.
Everyone was going to know about our bond now, and my cheeks flushed with heat.
“Everyone, give Iain some space,” Stavrok called. “Go get the healer. Everyone else out. I’ll stay.”
There were some soft murmurings, but I didn’t open my eyes until the noises faded away. I clung to Iain’s shivering body until he began to quieten and his limbs soften beneath me.
Then I opened my eyes, slowly.
Stavrok was sitting in the large armchair next to the fireplace, staring at us, but everyone else was gone.
I lifted my chin until I could see Iain’s face. He had his eyes closed and his breathing was even, as though he was sleeping. But something told me he wasn’t.
I moved my arm, lower, toward his belly. His hand came up to grab my arm, stopping the movement. But it didn’t stop me from feeling something warm and hard pressing up against the blankets.
“Don’t move,” he whispered. “Please don’t move.”
I relaxed again, laying my hand against his ribs. He was trembling again now, though I was pretty sure it was due to something other than cold this time.
“I’ll get up. You’re warm now.”
“No,” Iain snapped, a growl behind his words. “I’m... I can’t control it. Please, just stay where you are.”
My heart was pounding again, my dragon shifter recognizing the call of her mate. He wanted me. He was hurt, barely alive... but he wanted me.
Stavrok stood and walked over, slowly. “Son, I can help.”
Iain growled a little deeper, his arm slipping around my shoulders and holding me to his chest now.
“Dad. Back off.”
Fear shot through me, but beneath the worry was a strong pulse of desire. Of arousal. It was something I’d never felt before. Not to this level. I swallowed the moan that would have followed my next words.
“It’s okay, Uncle...”
“It’s not okay,” Stavrok whispered, still a few feet away. “Iain... why didn’t you tell anyone that Veronica was your mate?”
I glanced at the prince, whose jaw was set in the most determined angle I’d ever seen. “She was eleven when I first knew. She was a child. I was disgusted with myself.”
Stavrok made a tutting noise. “Hey, it’s okay. None of this is your fault. We’re both so glad... so grateful you’re alive.”
