Farrah was surprised by how much better she felt the next day. She was sore, yes, as if the sadness she’d felt had stretched her in ways she hadn’t expected, but she also felt a sense of relief and satisfaction, as if she’d actually survived something terrible and could see the storm moving farther away on the horizon.

She knew there would be more storms, more memories coming, at least until she had her memories erased, but in the meantime, it felt good to live again.

She owed Nic a huge thank-you for being there last night. The knife he’d left her was gone, so he must have taken it back. Was he worried she’d hurt herself or just didn’t like to leave weapons around?

It had taken her so off guard when he’d handed her the weapon, made it clear she was the one in control. And then he’d held her, just charged past all of her defenses and given her what she really needed but also desperately feared—touch, comfort. His touch had been so warm and almost… human. Yes, if she hadn’t known what he was, she would have said human. His muscles had held her so tight but so gently. The first time she saw Nic striding toward her in the castle, she never could have imagined he had another side.

Caring. Nurturing. Kind.

And then he’d said he’d been through things, too. Did she want to ask about that? She probably shouldn’t, knowing at the end of this, she wasn’t going to remember him. Which was too bad, because she was actually starting to see him as a… friend.

Maybe more, if she let herself think about it. How hard his body had felt, how kind he was, and how it felt to have such a handsome, strong man treat her as though she were precious and worth protecting and caring for.

It was more than being a bodyguard, the connection between them. She flushed as she thought about it, wondering if her body was truly coming back to life if she could feel actual physical attraction for someone.

She took a quick shower and put a headband in her short, reddish curls, holding them back in a style she felt looked girlish and a bit more flattering. Then she pulled on a gray sweater that was looser than she remembered, along with some jeans.

Perhaps he was right. She should eat more.

She opened her door and headed downstairs, hearing noises in the kitchen that let her know where Nic was.

He looked clean and freshly showered as well, though he must have done it earlier, as his hair was mostly dry, falling in beautiful, dark, shiny waves that were totally unfair on an already gorgeous man.

Strong. Thoughtful. Capable. Smart. Did he have any weakness at all?

She smiled as she saw an apron tied around his waist as he busied himself in front of the stove, turning knobs and stirring multiple pots.

“Here,” he said, turning abruptly with a wooden spoon in his hand, keeping one hand under it to catch spills. “Try this.”

She closed her eyes and opened her mouth, surprised by how she trusted him. Besides, something smelled incredible, and if his cooking was anything like the rest of the skills he possessed…

She let out a choking noise as the hot, oddly salty yet spicy mush hit her tongue in a horrible combination of flavors. Was that little bits of egg? And cheese? In cream of wheat?

She put a hand over her mouth, resisting the urge to gag as she looked up at him with wide eyes. He was studying her with such a vulnerable expression, and she had no idea what to do, though there was no way to keep that awful sludge in her mouth.

He studied her expression and shook his head, putting a hand on her shoulder and bringing her to the sink. “Spit it out. I know it’s awful.”

She shook her head, and, eyes watering, forced herself to swallow the terrible swill. She gave him a weak smile. “No. It’s great, see?” She stuck out her tongue, showing there was no more food.

He stepped back, releasing her and staring with folded arms. “Hmm.” He pulled out a chair at the table and motioned for her to sit there. “You are a bad liar.”

She sat down, wondering if she was really going to have to eat more of the terrible stuff, but was surprised when he got out a bowl and served up a generous portion from another pot. He set it on the table in front of her and then walked over to the oven and opened it, letting the smell of fresh muffins waft out.

He pulled the tray out and let them fall onto a fresh hand towel, and on the counter, she saw a recipe book open near him.

He served himself a bowl of mush, put the muffins on the plate, and brought both to the table. He set them in front of the chair across from her and then brought two glasses of fresh orange juice over as well.

She looked at the spread. The mush looked nothing like the one she’d eaten, and she saw no evidence of egg.

He looked at her nervously. “I… uh… I’m a stubborn cook. Stubbornly bad at it. I cook without a recipe, just thinking about what I like, but it never works. I guess I thought maybe someone could tolerate it like I do, but I’m sorry for putting you through that.”

She waved a hand. “It’s all right. I owe you after last night. I mean—”

He gave her a glare. “You owe me nothing. I was the one who received the gift last night.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, reaching for her orange juice to take a swig before she braved the oatmeal in front of her.

“That one is safe,” he said, nodding to the bowl. “A friend gave me an actual recipe book before we left. Said you were skinny.”

She flushed. “Well, that’s inappropriate.”

“Dragons aren’t good with social mores,” he said, digging into his bowl.

She tried the oatmeal and sighed in relief when it was basic but good. “It’s great.”

“You should be flattered I used a recipe.”

“I am,” she said. “It’s delicious.” She tried the muffins. “So are these.”

“I’m glad,” he said, straightening a bit in his chair and looking more pleased than he wanted to let on. What had made him so sensitive to even the slightest praise?

She focused on the food, and they ate in mostly silence, letting the awkwardness of the previous night fade away. When the food was gone and Nic was clearing it away, he asked what she wanted to do that day.

“I’m going to do some job hunting,” she said. “Get in contact with the hospital and see if I can get my job back. Then I’ll need to do the application, which will take a while. Do you have stuff to do?”

He shrugged. “I can watch TV. It’s still good research.”

“Okay,” she said. “But I tell you what. We’ll go out tonight, to celebrate things being back to normal. Mostly.”

He frowned. “Are you sure it’s safe?”

“It should be,” she said. “I mean, if this is going to be my life again, I need to be living it. Making sure the things I used to love are everything I remembered them to be.”

“And if they aren’t?” he asked, cocking his head.

“Then I have to rethink things.”

“Okay,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets and leaning against the sink. “Then I’ll clean up here and let you get to it. If you need me, I’ll be around.”

“Oh, wait,” she said. “Do you have a phone? I mean, I assume you do, even though you’re a dragon.”

He nodded sharply. “Do you want the number?”

“It makes things easier, you know, if I can text you if I need something.”

He quickly handed her his phone, and when their hands brushed for a split second, she felt an almost magnetic shock go through her, making her jerk back.

He eyed her carefully, but she just took his phone and used it to text herself so they would have each other’s number.

“There you go,” she said, handing it back.

“Okay,” he said, looking at the screen as if perplexed by it.

Oh gosh, he was adorable. Was that a ridiculous thing to say about such a big man who was also half dragon? She had no idea.

Today, with daylight around them and the knowledge that he’d held her, helped her, everything just felt so much more… awkward. There was a tension there that hadn’t existed before, and she wasn’t sure how to deal with it. Her legs felt… weak.

“Um, well, I’m going to get to work, then,” she said quickly. Then she turned on her heel and got out of there before things could get any weirder between her and her handsome, mysterious “guest.”

* * *

Arsenic tried to keep busy while Farrah was working, but daydreams about her being his mate kept intruding. A different kind of life, where they spent the day together like one of those human couples on TV, kept floating through his mind.

Eating meals together, laughing over their normal days (even if as a dragon assassin, his day would probably anything but normal), and then settling in together and watching a movie, maybe even doing that thing Cadmium and Lead did with their mates.

Cuddling.

Like he’d done with Farrah last night, only with less crying.

Not that he’d trade what happened the other night for anything. Seeing her vulnerable, having her trust him was everything. It had started all these fluffy fantasies, which made him feel incredibly stupid as a usually dark and dangerous dragon.

So he was trying to keep himself busy. First, he cleaned the kitchen, then cleaned it again, checking for any missed crumbs.

Then he went outside and walked the perimeter of her land, making sure there was no sign of intruders.

Then he went back to watching TV, but every show seemed to remind him of wanting to be around Farrah, and he couldn’t afford to be a lovesick dragon for a woman he’d been told couldn’t be his. Especially one who insisted she wanted to forget him.

So outside he went again. He was on his third walk around the boundaries of the land when he looked up to see someone coming down the walk.

He scented the air, relaxing slightly when he recognized the being was human. The being was also male, though, which didn’t make Arsenic trust him. Arsenic narrowed his eyes as he realized the human was headed for Farrah’s walk, most likely. His hands tightened into fists. As much as he wanted to throw a dagger at the man, stopping him in his tracks, he knew he was here to protect Farrah, nothing more.

He didn’t have any right to interfere in her regular human life, which she was just trying to adjust to again.

So he quickly cloaked himself and walked back to the house, hoping he hadn’t been seen by the human. He would let Farrah answer the door and wait behind her in the living room in case she needed assistance.

He would not act on the raging jealousy inside him.

He would not.

He was an assassin. A cold, calculating machine who uncloaked as soon as he was back in the house, letting out a sigh of relief.

He pulled out his phone, wondering if this was the right time to text her, or if he should just wait.

Before he’d figured it out, the doorbell rang, and a slight wave of anger rushed through him. He walked to the kitchen and sat down in a chair, hunched, with arms folded.

He perked as he heard Farrah’s footsteps coming down the stairs, and a new possibility lent itself to his imagination.

What if the man coming to the door was a friend of hers or, even worse, involved?

Arsenic shook his head harshly. The oracle had made it clear. Hands off. She wasn’t a shifter’s mate. She was for humans.

But was that because it was what Farrah had asked or because the oracle knew something he didn’t?

And what if the oracle was wrong in this case? She hadn’t given the other dragons permission either, and they’d found their mates. Maybe he could change Farrah’s mind…

No, that’s not what he was there for. He was there to protect her and nothing more. He’d always been honorable. He’d always focused on the mission and never gotten distracted before.

So why was it so hard right now?

The door opened, and he peeked out of the kitchen to watch the interaction.

The man had brown hair streaked with blond, and Arsenic couldn’t make out the color of his eyes behind glasses.

He seemed harmless enough, but Arsenic had learned appearances could be deceiving.

“Oh my gosh, you’re really back,” the man said, rubbing the back of his neck. “We all… We were freaking out. We didn’t know if you were visiting family, or…”

“I’m fine,” she said sharply, a shortness in her voice that suggested impatience to end the conversation, which made Arsenic smile.

Clearly, this was no friend.

“Now, if you don’t mind, Ben, I’m working, and—”

“Wait,” Ben said, and Arsenic’s eyes went wide as he saw the door open farther, Ben pushing it open, wedging his foot inside.

Arsenic was trying to decide whether to shove the intruding appendage in Ben’s ass or mouth when he saw Farrah give Ben a shove.

“Hey,” she said. “I told you before I’m not interested in being more than neighbors.”

“I thought we had a good dinner, though,” he said. “What kind of girl doesn’t put out after a date?” Ben’s hands were reaching for Farrah, and Arsenic decided he’d had it with trying to hold back.

“The kind of girl who has a male already,” Arsenic said, appearing at the door. He yanked it open so Ben stumbled, not into Farrah, but into Arsenic’s hard chest. Ben looked up in shock, glasses askew, and Arsenic gave him the full fury of a glare that surely held the threat of death.

Ben stumbled back so fast he tripped and hit his butt, falling down the stairs.

“Wait,” Farrah asked. “You don’t have to—”

“Bitch,” Ben said, brushing off his butt as he stood, glaring at them. “Leading me on and—”

Arsenic let out a growl and started out the door but found it slammed quickly in his face. He turned, startled, and glared at Farrah, who was looking at him expectantly with folded arms.

“Just what are you doing?”

“Protecting you,” he said, baffled.

“From Ben? He’s a wimp.”

“No one gets to talk about you like that,” Arsenic said, running both hands through his hair, frustrated.

She smirked. “I didn’t know your job description included defending my honor.”

“Defending your everything,” he blurted out. Though, to be honest, he wasn’t sure anymore where the boundaries between his job and his feelings were.

He didn’t know how to control himself now that he thought she was his mate. Any harm coming to her was untenable. Any threat, no matter how small, had to be eradicated.

And even if she was going to forget him, in the meantime, he was damn well going to make sure she was safe.

“What was he talking about?” Arsenic asked. “How do you know him?”

Farrah walked into the kitchen to get a glass of water, ignoring Arsenic’s question while she drank it. Then she let out a sigh, setting the glass aside. “Not that it’s any of your business, but he’s a neighbor. He’d been asking me out for a long time, and I finally went out with him, but there was no spark.”

“Spark?” Arsenic asked. “Isn’t that a bad thing? Sparks cause fires.”

She laughed, a beautiful sound like twinkling icicles, and gave him a bright smile. “You’re so funny sometimes.” Her pretty hair was pulled back behind some kind of U-shaped device over her head, and her face looked radiant and beautiful as usual. Her blue eyes seemed even more emphasized, as if she’d done something to make them standout.

How was he supposed to focus on his mission when she was just so pretty?

She flushed. “I don’t know what you’re thinking when you look at me like that. Sometimes you’re so readable, but not now.”

Good.

“I just… I’m sorry if I overstepped.” Not sorry.

“It’s okay,” she said, resting her hands on the counter behind her and leaning her slim figure against it. She let out a relaxed breath. “Anyway. I applied for my old job again, so that’s good. One more step toward normalcy.”

He tried to ignore the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat at the thought of her having her life back. A life that wouldn’t involve him.

Dammit, he’d seen the other dragons fall like fools for their mates, so quickly it didn’t seem possible. Now that he was on the other side of it, he understood why. The force pulling a dragon toward a mate was something impossible to understand unless experiencing it.

The need to always be around her was so stifling he could barely breathe if he focused on it.

So he didn’t.

“Anyway, he shouldn’t be back,” she said. She gave him an appraising glance. “Are you okay? You’ve been acting weird today, I think. Did I freak you out last night?”

He shook his head abruptly. “No. Of course not.” You made me fall for you last night.

She cocked her head, looking impish. “I wish I could read your mind sometimes.”

“Why does it matter?” he asked, tucking his hair behind one ear. “You’re going to forget me anyway.”

With that, he decided to disappear into the spare room she’d showed him yesterday (after Christmas tree shopping) that had a pull-out bed for when he didn’t feel like staying on the couch.

He needed time alone. To remember who he was. He was a dangerous assassin. It was the only thing that made anyone see him as worthwhile, the only thing that made him more than the pile of trash he’d been born as.

Deep down, he knew exactly who he was and why he could never have Farrah, no matter how much his broken dragon thought he should mate her.

He was just piece of scrap that had somehow been formed into a functional tool. Meant to protect, nothing more.

Daydreams and fantasies weren’t meant for dragons like him.