Roc had come to speak to Alyx, the lion shifter who ruled Aurora, but had somehow ended up in a meeting with the matchmaker, Gerri Wilder, afterward as well. Quite how that had happened, he wasn’t sure, and despite the fact he’d told her he wasn’t in the market for a mate, of her choosing anyway, the bloody woman just wouldn’t take no for an answer. All she’d done was smile that damned annoying little smile and told him that she had someone in mind for him to meet.

But the meeting had had an unexpected bonus. He’d clocked the presence hiding behind the door as soon as it had opened, and hauling their spy out had revealed a delightful little sprite of a woman.

His wyvern growled in appreciation as they took in her upturned face with its large, up-tilted violet eyes, tiny button nose and full, luscious looking lips. Heat surged through his veins at the feel of her small hands pressed against his chest and the curvy body that fit his arms as though she’d been made especially for him.

A pleased growl escaped from his lips as he leaned down to take in her scent. It was light, sensual and utterly captivating. She definitely had shifter blood, but what type he couldn’t tell. The note was buried so far down that her inner-animal was either so deeply asleep it was practically comatose or, more likely, she wasn’t shift-capable… which happened at times, especially when Aurorans bred with humanity.

No matter, he decided. She was obviously Auroran and shifter enough to understand his nature. He wouldn’t need to be careful revealing he had another form buried under his human one. Or worry about her freaking out and trying to throw herself off a cliff when she found out the truth like the woman one of Nesren’s cronies had brought back.

Moons knew where he’d gotten her, or even how he’d gotten her, but the woman had screamed blue murder at the first hint of scale and taken a running jump from the top of a damn mountain. It had only been because Roc had already been on the wing, and flying by, that he’d caught her. He’d returned her to the capital city and smoothed over the ruffled feathers from her abduction. That, combined with coming here to see Alyx about the villages, had now gotten him the title of wyvern leader.

And a leader should have a mate.

“We appear to have a little eavesdropper.” His voice was gravelly with desire as he looked down at the delightful creature in his arms. “And you know what they say about bad little girls… they get punished.”

Her eyes widened, lips forming a soft pouty “oh” a second before he claimed them. He felt her surprise, the sound of her soft gasp lost under his kiss. He wasn’t crass or demanding, simply firm. His lips moved against hers, back and forth as his hands slid up her back.

She was petite, but with curves more tightly packed than a winding mountain road, a fact that made his cock so hard he fucking ached with it. He’d never been fond of skinny women, preferring softness and curves to cushion his solid body, and she had plenty of cushion.

But that didn’t get to him as much as the little shiver that rolled through her delicate frame or the soft way her lips parted under the pressure of his. He gathered her closer, a big hand in the scarlet fall of her hair to tilt her head to just the right angle. He nibbled at her lower lip softly until she opened for him, and then he slid past her lips to the sweetness beyond.

He groaned as her taste exploded through him. Sunlight and honey, mixed with the tartness of the strawberries he’d been offered during his meeting with Alyx. He’d never had them before, but the Terran fruits had instantly become a favorite… much like the delicious little woman in his arms.

Her hands stroked up his chest, sliding into his hair as she kissed him back, and he was done. His arms tightened possessively and he pulled her closer against his tall, hard body. His wyvern moved within him, scales pressed against the inside of his skin. Ours, it rumbled in the back of his mind as a sense of possessiveness about the little female washed over him. Yes, he decided, it was right. He hadn’t realized it at first, the lack of her shift-scent confusing him, but as soon as he’d kissed her he’d known.

She was his mate.

“Uh-hum…”

The sound of someone clearing their throat brought him back to the present. He eased back from the kiss, caressing his little siren’s lips with his once more before glancing up to find Gerri looking at them, her arms folded.

“I must congratulate you, Miss Wilder.” He smiled, all irritation with the woman disappearing as though it had never been. “I’d heard you were good but I didn’t think you were quite this good.”

She’d never been kissed that way… ever.

Razzy struggled to catch her breath as he lifted his head, the blood rushing in her ears as he spoke to Gerri. Hell, what was that? It had been as though every cell in her body had attuned to him the instant his lips had covered hers. For a second, she checked deep down to the connection with her dragon, curious as to what type of shifter he was… but her dragon was still dead to the world, so deeply asleep she couldn’t access any of its abilities.

His big hand covered her lower back, stroking the skin revealed by the lattice back of her dress and playing havoc with all her senses. She looked up at him, studying his face. She’d never seen him before but he seemed to know Gerri…

“Honestly, I can’t thank you enough for finding my mate,” he was saying, and the words brought her back to the present with a thump.

“Wait… what?” she gasped and pushed against his chest. His hold on her was firm, though, so it was like trying to shove a mountain. “Mate? Who said anything about mates? I was here to see Gerri about a mate…”

She blinked, looking between the two as hope unfurled in her chest. Could this man, the one who kissed like a sex god, really be her mate? If he was, why hadn’t she felt it? Why hadn’t her dragon woken up as soon as she’d met him, as soon as he’d touched her… kissed her?

He looked down at her and smiled, his lips quirking up at the corners. “Yes, sweetheart, you’re mine… my wyvern knew it immediately.”

Oh. Shit.

Her smile faded at the word “wyvern” and her heart sank. No wonder she’d never seen him. Wyverns and dragons didn’t mix. Ever. They weren’t enemies as such, more like cousin-species… but wyverns were older than dragon-kind, virtually prehistoric. Usually bigger, and armored, they were less… elegant than dragons. More like the bulldogs than the pedigree breeds of the draconic world, backwoods cousins she and her kind never talked about and preferred to ignore the existence of.

No wonder her dragon hadn’t woken up. There was no way she could be mated to a wyvern, no way in hell.

“No, you can’t be my mate.” She looked for Gerri in panic, but the other woman had already disappeared. Pushing at the big male’s chest, she tried to make him let her go. “It’s simply not possible. I would have felt it.”

“Oh, you are…” His deep gravel was practically a purr, one that stroked all the nerve endings along her spine and made her shiver. He lowered his lips to brush against hers and she all but whimpered, a savage ache running through her body and settling deep in her pussy. Color flushed her cheeks as liquid heat slipped from her to dampen her panties. He smiled.

“See? I can smell your need, my sweet. Your body knows me already, and it’ll know me a whole lot better before the night’s out.”

She snorted, pushing at him again. “Not a chance, handsome. I wouldn’t be seen dead with a wyvern… bloody savage barbarians… so you might as well let me go right now.”

Anger flashed in his eyes, his features tightening. Still handsome, they took on a feral, almost dangerous edge. She ignored the shiver of awareness and arousal that rolled through her and smiled as his hand slid from her back.

“You know it makes sense—” She didn’t get any further, yelping as he simply bent down and threw her over his shoulder without so much as a grunt of effort, even given her curvy frame. “Hey! Put me down, this instant!” she demanded, beating at his broad back with her fists.

He didn’t pay her any mind, striding through the corridors and out of the palace. She had a great view of his firm, tight ass in his leather pants but she wasn’t interested. Not when he was hauling her around in such a high-handed manner. Wriggling like a wildcat, she hissed and pushed at his back, trying to get him to drop her, but he growled. A big hand slapped her ass hard enough to sting and bring a gasp to her lips.

“Behave,” he growled, the deep rumble making her wet despite her mental protestations that she couldn’t be attracted to a wyvern, like… ever. “Or I’ll make you. I can’t have you wriggling while we’re on the wing. I won’t risk you falling.”

She opened her mouth to argue that they were going nowhere, flying nowhere, when she felt his shift energy wrap around them. It was so close to her own that she closed her eyes, tears forming in the backs of them at the much-missed feeling. Surely, if anything could rouse her dragon, it would be shift energy? She’d shift and then they’d show this bloody jumped-up dinosaur who was boss here.

The energy exploded around them, and his form changed beneath her, jostling her. She cried out again as she slipped and slid, coming to rest between his now massive and scaled shoulders. Her eyes widened as she sat up, her skirts wrapped around her ankles, and then widened further as he spread his wings. She’d thought her brother, Vikter, was big in his dragon form, but this man was massive… gigantic.

He started to run and she clung to the dual ridges of scales that ran down either side of his spine, creating a hollow for her to shelter in as the wind whipped around them. Three strides and he took off, gargantuan wings beating the air and taking them high into the sky far faster than she’d ever been able to in her dragon form.

Alright back there? His voice sounded in her mind, different to the feeling she got from others of her species but similar enough that she could understand him. Another shiver stole down her spine. His mental voice was even more potent than his human one, a deep gravel that hit her on a very primal level.

“No! Put me down, asshole!” she yelled back, refusing to communicate with him telepathically.

She received a chuckle in reply, his big chest and back moving as he laughed. With a squeak, she clung to his ridge scales for all she was worth, expecting to be jostled from his back and fall, but the little hollow protected her. Had he been a dragon, he’d have carried her in the safety of his claws but wyverns didn’t have front legs when shifted, just back legs used for taking off and landing and massive wings tipped with the lethal claws they used to fight among themselves and pretty much anyone else who came within spitting distance.

Not a chance, my sweet. We’re going home where I can make you all mine.

“Not gonna happen,” she grumbled back at him, sticking to speech. If she spoke to him mentally, he might figure out she was dragon-born. The enmity between their species ran so deeply she wasn’t sure even him thinking she was his mate would save her. “You can’t keep me prisoner.”

Sure I can, he replied, nonplussed. Where we’re going you’d need wings to leave, my sweet, and even if what’s in your blood has wings, you can’t shift. Can you?