“If she doesn’t eat with me, she doesn’t eat,” I growled at Fredo while we argued in the kitchen.

“She’s ashamed, sir. She claims she literally showed her ass.” He stared at me, but even that reeked of disapproval.

I stiffened. “She did. So what? I didn’t do anything.” I raked a hand through my hair. “I merely held her all night. How am I suddenly the bad guy?”

“I believe, sir, she’s embarrassed and also feeling a tad rejected.” Fredo moved to the sink to wash lettuce for the salad.

“And if I’d have laid a hand on her, I’d be some kind of villain. I’m not that guy to begin with and most definitely not with her. She’s…different.” I huffed.

“How so, sir?” he asked absently.

“Maggie isn’t drawn to me.” My face broke into a lopsided smile.

“Need I remind you, she was naked?” Fredo groaned.

I leaned hard on the island, coming within inches of his face. “No, you needn’t. That was alcohol. Trust me. The rest of the time she’s completely immune to me.” I dropped down onto my elbows. “I want to see her.”

“Well, she doesn’t want to see you,” he reminded me.

“Maybe she does and she doesn’t know it yet.” I stood up and grinned. “I’ll bring her lunch.”

He frowned. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, sir.”

“Well, luckily, my decisions aren’t based on your thoughts. Make it a tray for two.” I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. This was the right thing to do, I knew it. I moved to the opposite corner of the kitchen and stared out the window, across the courtyard to Maggie’s room. She wasn’t out on her patio and I couldn’t see her from my vantage point. “Fredo,” I began quietly.

“Yes, Mr. Draco.” There was an air of annoyance in his voice.

Leaning my back against the counter, I stuffed my hands in my pocket. “I think Maggie’s the one.”

“The one?” His brows rose.

I rubbed my mid-section where the strange feeling grew more pronounced by the hour. “Yeah. I’m thinking she might be made for me. There are all these little signs.” My voice cracked, the words practically stuck in my throat. Dragons were known for their courage and bravery. Now, I was neither brave nor courageous. The thought of Maggie being my mate had me both fearful and hopeful. After all, our one weakness was our mate. All these hundreds of years, I’d felt practically immortal. Maggie would change everything.

“Wouldn’t that be a good thing, sir? After all these years, you could have a family.” Fredo stopped working to give me his full attention.

“I already have Mishal.” I shrugged as I tried to pretend finding my mate was no big deal.

“Yes, and he’s almost never around. When he is, you two bicker like children.” He rolled his eyes. “A happy home filled with the pitter-patter of tiny feet could be a nice change.”

“Maggie does have small feet,” I mused while scratching my chin.

Fredo shook his head. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Oh, I know what you meant,” I grumbled.

“Then you know the importance of continuing your blood line. And if Maggie is the one, having your children matters to her too.” When I began to scratch again, he suddenly gestured to my face. “May I ask why you stopped shaving? It’s clearly annoying you.”

I shrugged. “Maggie likes it. I just need some time to get used to it.”

“Oh, sir…” He coughed a few times and I was convinced he did so to cover his laughter.

“Something funny, Alfredo?” I glared at him.

He practically shook from his effort to hold the laughter in. “No, sir,” he gritted out as he hastily finished assembling the tray. There were two sandwiches, potato salad, a plate of cookies, and two drinks. “Take it.” Fredo pushed the tray toward me, then rushed from the room and ducked into the pantry where he erupted in laughter.

By the time he returned, I was tapping impatiently on the counter. “Better?”

He dabbed at his eyes. “Much, sir.”

I held out my hand. “Keys.”

Fredo fished them from his pocket, then dropped them into my palm. “Will you be going over the wall?” His head tilted.

I snorted. “No, I plan to go through the bedroom door.” Then I picked up the tray and stalked toward Maggie’s hiding spot. When I reached the door, I knocked lightly a few times.

“Coming!” She sounded so happy, my heart raced. I couldn’t wait to see her face, spend more time with her. As the door flew open, she grinned, and I started walking into the room, the food held out in front of me like some peace offering. A second later, she registered I was the one holding the tray, not Fredo, and her face fell. Maggie squealed and slammed the door in my face, which would’ve been bad enough, but our lunch flew backwards from the force of the wood slamming into it.

I could see it all happening in slow motion, but I was completely powerless to stop it. The sandwiches on fine china plates simply slid off the tray. Our homemade lemonade splashed down the front of me. Oh, but the potato salad did the most damage as it hit the hardwood. The bowl shattered while the contents splattered on my pants. The din of silver clattering on the floor rang in my ears almost as loudly as her squeal.

“Fredo!” I called as my frustration began to build.

“I heard. I’m coming, sir.” Seconds later he appeared at my side. “Oh my.” He looked me up and down, and then scanned the walls and floor. “My, my, my.”

Maggie slowly opened the door while biting on the side of her finger. “I’m sorry,” she whimpered. Then she dropped to the floor and began picking up.

I squatted down with her. “Don’t. You could get cut.” Still she ignored me. I could feel the anger rising in my chest as the burning began. “Stop!” I shouted.

“I’ll be fine,” she argued, completely unfazed. She didn’t jump when I snapped. Hell, she didn’t even look at me.

Of course, Fredo couldn’t stop staring. The color drained from his face as his eyes widened. “Sir, you should go to your room…”

I knew what he was getting at. Soon, I’d go full-on fire-breathing dragon, if I wasn’t careful. My fists were clenched at my side. How could she treat me like this? How could she argue and ignore me and be so damn stubborn? I must some kind of glutton for punishment because for some fucking reason, I still wanted her. I blew out a breath. It came out as pure steam. Whipping around, I practically raced to my bedroom and slammed the door. Shower or burn room? Shower or burn room? In a minute, I wouldn’t have a choice. I fumbled with the key around my neck, struggling to first get it out of my collar, and then into the lock. Finally, when I heard the click, I pulled the door, which looked deceptively like an ordinary door. Instead, it was twice the thickness, and about ten times as heavy, since the second side was entirely made of steel. I slipped through the opening, yanked the door shut behind me, and twisted the dead bolt. I was too blinded by my fury to find a keyhole. When I made it down the flight of cement steps and reached the bottom, I kicked off my shoes, thinking I might be able to salvage my clothes later. Before I could finish undressing, I’d completely lost control and busted out of a perfectly good, albeit incredibly soiled, outfit.

Kicking it with my giant clawed feet was a huge failure, so I whipped the clothes in front of me with my tail. They’d be obliterated first. A huge roar escaped my mouth, followed by a stream of fire, which traveled from my belly, up my long, thick neck on its way out. I let out all my rage, all my anger, and pushed aside all my fear while I burned every flammable item Fredo had stocked in the room. When I was done, I dropped from exhaustion, my torso hitting the floor when my bulging muscular legs gave out.

My head felt like it might split open. My heart ached in my chest. Still, the unsettling flutter inside me grew more insistent. I’d never been more miserable. If this was what it was like having a mate, I wanted no part of it.

* * *

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” I whispered while tears streamed down my face. “This isn’t me. This woman you’re seeing, she’s a stranger. I have no idea what’s going on. I’m all…uncomfortable inside. A strange flutter keeps intensifying. And I can’t do anything to make it go away.”

Passing me a handkerchief from his pocket, Fredo murmured, “Blow. I can barely understand you.”

“Thanks,” I muttered as I took his advice. “I swear I’d be fine if I could just make this…go away.” With one hand, I rubbed the center of my abdomen.

“What have you tried so far, Miss Maggie?” Fredo asked absently as he used the dust pan and whisk broom to pick up the last shards of china and glass.

Sitting hard on the floor, I began to tick my failed remedies off on my fingers. “Tums, ibuprofen, and wine. Entirely too much wine.” Then the floor shook and I braced myself on the doorway. “Quick! It’s an earthquake.” I scrambled to me feet, ready to rush to my father and make sure he took cover.

Reaching out, Fredo laid a hand on my forearm. “It’s not an earthquake.”

I frowned. “The whole house is shaking. What could make it do that, if not a quake?”

He licked his lips and appeared to be choosing his words carefully. “Mr. Draco is…working out. The tremors will stop soon.”

“What kind of exercise makes an entire house shake?” My brow furrowed.

“The kind Mr. Draco does, miss.” Then Fredo stood abruptly, picked up the trash bag and disappeared.

For a few minutes, I paced. My father had a purpose here. Fredo had a purpose. Blaise owned the place. I was the odd one out who kept messing everything up. What would I do with myself? I felt like I was losing my mind here. I glanced at the closed door to Blaise’s suite. Fredo had been right. The tremors had slowed and no doubt he’d be done soon. Now I really didn’t want to see him. My stomach growled and I decided to give in and eat. Reluctantly, I wandered to the kitchen. Blaise said I had free rein. I flitted around the space, opening cupboards and studying the contents of the fridge. Within minutes, I had replicated the lunch I’d ruined. As I sat down to eat, Fredo strode into the room.

“I would’ve made that for you, miss.” He frowned. “I was taking out the trash.”

“It’s fine. I’m not used to having anyone serve me.” I started stuffing my face and hoped he’d find another task to accomplish so I could be left alone. Instead, he hovered nearby during my entire meal. “Listen,” I began tentatively, since I really should’ve been having this discussion with Blaise, “I understand why my father has to be here, but I’m just in the way. So, I’m going to duck out. Thank you for everything.”

“Miss, where will you go? How will you get there?” He gestured toward the driveway. “Your car will be mostly blocked in until late tomorrow night. If you still feel this strongly about leaving, we’ll talk to Mr. Draco and work it out later.” He tried to appear calm, but he was wringing his hands.

“Fine. I’ll take it up with Blaise.” I shook my head. “This won’t go well. I just know it.”

Fredo swallowed hard. “Probably not, miss.”

I stood up and walked around the island to the dishwasher. When I started to open it, I was met with such a stern look, I held up both hands and backed away. “Thank you, Fredo. See you at dinner.”

He nodded, but I could feel his worry.

So I tried to kill time in the library until dinner. The room was right next to Blaise’s suite. I kept listening for his door to open, but hours passed without a sound. I started pacing, which is about the time I realized for someone who claimed I didn’t want to see him, I definitely wanted to see him. I also realized something else. The more I thought about Blaise, the more powerful my flutter became.