EMMA

“Azar wants to talk to you,” Trina tells me as she heads into the kitchen the next morning. It’s breakfast time, which means Azar gets to eat alone in the dining room while we slave away in the kitchen. She saunters to the sink to help Carol with the dishes. She smirks at me. “Must be hard to be the boss’s favorite.”

I swallow the knot in my throat, worried. “I’m not his favorite.”

She snorts. “Come on now. We weren’t born yesterday. Everyone knows”—and she nods at Carol, who’s trying to hide a smile—“that he’s put his claim on you. Won’t let anyone else touch you. Told the others that you’re off limits. That means he’s got his eye on you.” She winks at me as if we’re sharing a secret. “Just make sure you keep him happy, if you know what I mean. I was the personal friend of the leader back in Fort Vegas, and when he found something newer and with bigger tits, he sent me packing.” 

I’m appalled at the thought. “I’m not sleeping with Azar,” I protest again, but it’s clear the others don’t believe me. Is that why the guys here avoid grabbing me? Why they don’t hit on me like they do Carol and Trina, despite the fact that I’m half their age? Here I thought it was because Boyd had said something to them. But Boyd’s dead and…

And I don’t know what to think.

I give my shirt a surreptitious sniff, but the perfume’s heavy and thick. Good. I wish I had time to go up and spritz myself again just to be on the safe side, but Trina’s giving me an expectant look, which tells me that Azar’s waiting for me. Shit.

I’m surprised that Zohr hasn’t commented in my head about this. I mentally try to reach out to him, but I get nothing. Asleep, probably. Maybe that’s a good thing. I don’t need distractions when I’m dealing with Azar. Sucking up my courage, I head through the double doors into the dining room of the hotel. Might as well get it over with.

Azar sits alone, the white tablecloth in stark contrast to the rest of the tables that are pushed into a cluster at the far end of the room. The windows are open to let in sunlight, and the way that the light hits his pale hair and skin, he looks almost angelic. Slowly, he turns a page in the magazine across from him and plucks at his morning fruit cocktail. “You’re here, I see. Not sick today?”

“Me? No. I’m fine.”

He slowly turns another page, chewing, and I see what looks like a picnic spread on the magazine pages. Is he reading Better Homes and Gardens? Books and magazines are at a premium in the After since no more are being made, and I’ve caught myself reading some strange stuff out of boredom and lack of fresh reading materials, but Azar doesn’t seem like the domestic type. He studies the page intently, then swallows and looks up at me.

His pale eyes make me shiver. No sunglasses again today. Is he getting more comfortable with letting us see what he truly is? Or does he just not care anymore? 

“I need your undergarments once more,” Azar tells me, and calmly flips to the next page. “Tonight you will wash yourself appropriately and skip the perfume. You can reapply it in the morning after you’ve turned in your undergarments.” 

“You want another pair of panties?” I stare at him, uncomprehending. “Why?”

He looks surprised that I question him, putting his fork down and lifting his gaze from his magazine to stare at me. His eyes are piercing, and despite myself, I feel frightened. I shouldn’t have said anything. But then he speaks, surprising me. “Why, to get another dragon, of course. Our method was so successful last time, I wish to use it again.”

“Oh.” I don’t know what else to say. “Okay.”

He returns to reading his magazine. “You may go.” 

I turn and practically race back to the kitchens, where both Carol and Trina snicker at my flustered look. If only they knew.

Another dragon? The idea’s a terrible, awful one on its own…but Azar doesn’t know my secret. Now that I’ve mated with Zohr and taken his bite—his fires, as he called it—my scent’s changed. I don’t know that flying another pair of my panties is going to work.

I don’t know what he’s going to do when he realizes that my scent’s changed.

This could be really bad.

ZOHR

Worry rouses me from my sleep. It takes me a moment to realize that the frantic thoughts are not my own, but that of my mate. Emma is upset and her thoughts are flustered, bouncing from one idea to the next. 

What is it? I ask her, wishing again that I was free. The chains pull just as hard on me as ever and are doubly frustrating in light of her panic. Talk to me. Tell me what is wrong.

Zohr? We have a problem. Her thoughts calm a little as her mind touches mine, and it gives me pleasure to realize I can be of some comfort to her, at least. You know how Azar’s guys captured you and brought you here?

I followed your scent.

Yeah, well, Azar wants to do the same thing again. Her panic rises once more. But you said my scent is different now, right? So how is that going to factor into things?

I send her reassurance. No dragon will come for you. Your scent tells them that you are bonded to me. It will be ignored. No drakoni will touch another’s mate.

That’s bad, she sends back, worried. That’s really bad. Azar’s going to know something’s wrong and then he’ll find out we’re together and he’ll try to use you.

Bah. He can do nothing to sever our link.

No, you don’t get it, Emma tells me, her thoughts full of worry. He’ll threaten me to try to make you get in line. He doesn’t care if I live or die as long as he can use me to control you.

Her words make me uneasy and bring faint memories to mind. I remember this. I remember cruelty with Salorians. Of families torn apart, nests destroyed because it was the best way to make a warrior obey. My gut churns at the thought of Emma being hurt because this Salorian wishes to get to me. Do not let him hurt you, I tell her. I will speak with him—

No! Emma’s thoughts are fierce and immediate. I may not know much, but I do know Sasha was determined not to let her dragon speak with Azar in his mind. She said he would take over him or control him or something. We can’t let that happen to you. As far as they need to know, you’re still crazy and beyond controlling.

I will not let him harm you, I reply fiercely.

I don’t plan on letting him harm me, either, she tells me back. We’re getting out of here tonight. I’m going to get my lockpicks and we’re going to get you free.

I do not like this. I hate the thought that she will put herself in danger, but as long as I am trapped, what choice do we have? She must free me. After that…there will be no separating me from my mate.

I must trust her. I must be patient a bit longer.