A discreet cough brought him back to the present for the second time, and he realized they were standing outside the queen’s council chambers. Cadeyra watched him with a quizzical look in her eyes.

“Are you sure you feel okay, General?”

Shit. She’d used his rank, the equivalent of his mother using his full name when he’d done something wrong. Which meant he was seriously in trouble.

“I’m perfectly fine, Your Majesty.” He gave her a neutral face to look at. There was no way she needed to get even a hint of what was going on in his head. As a black and one of the twelve, she couldn’t relieve him of his position but she could assign him away from the court and from her presence. He didn’t want that. Couldn’t afford that. Being near her was the only thing keeping him sane. Just about…

Getting himself together, he stepped forward and pushed open the doors in front of them. Cadeyra hung back, as he’d drilled into her. Even though they were deep inside the palace he never took chances with her safety. He’d spent way too long in the military before being called to service at court to let his guard down.

All of his senses on alert, he pulled his dragon up to just under his skin and stepped into the chamber beyond. Scanning the room and its occupants, he took note of each person, their placement and body language at the same time he used his dragon’s excellent sense of smell to filter all the scents in the room. He noted everything, no clue or lingering trace scent unstudied… like the fact that one of the advisors at the back had eaten lasagna the night before, or that Garrick Mahan sitting next to Calan, Duke of Vacossin, wore perfume that was definitely not his wife’s.

Sawyer caught the duke’s gaze. Calan, a black and also Cadeyra’s cousin, nodded slightly. The small quirk of his lips told Sawyer that he’d clocked the perfume as well. Although all the occupants were weredragons, only blacks had the precise sense of smell that could pick up such tiny trace scents. It was what made them such lethal hunters. The presence of the other black allowed Sawyer to relax a little. Between the two of them, they could deal with any threat to their queen, and there was no one Sawyer would rather have at his back in a fight—as a human or a dragon.

Satisfied the room was secure, he stepped to the side to allow Cadeyra to enter. Everyone in the room rose to their feet as she swept in, back straight and head held high… every inch the queen.

“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen,” she inclined her head in greeting.

Taking her place at the head of the table, she sat quickly, allowing everyone else to resume their seats, and took a while to organize her papers. It might have looked like she was disorganized, but he’d seen her use this tactic many times before to allow others time to get settled and collect themselves before the meeting started.

It was another thing that highlighted her deep understanding and caring for her subjects, and made him love her all the more. She was always careful to ensure she didn’t keep people waiting on her, or that she didn’t take advantage of her position like some in power would have done. If anything, she considered herself a servant of her people rather than the other way around. Sure, sometimes she behaved a little brattishly and pouted when she didn’t get her own way—but usually only with the twelve and only in private.

Like when she’d intercepted her cousin, Calan, as he’d brought his new mate back to the palace, curiosity written all over her expressive face. Knowing she’d have virtually interrogated the poor woman on the spot without realizing how scary she could be full on, Sawyer had been forced to kiss her to distract her… Quickly, he commanded his mind away from that incident as he settled himself in the chair by the door. If he went down that rabbit hole, he was done for. Getting an epic boner for the queen in a room full of weredragons was not an option. Ever.

In an effort to distract himself, he studied Cadeyra’s blonde curls where they were piled haphazardly, secured with two plain clips. That was the dichotomy of Cadeyra the White, through and through. She had coffers full of the finest jewelry but preferred two small hair clips a small girl had given to her at an official function years ago.

Now her attention was focused elsewhere, he could study her at his leisure and ignore what was being said. It didn’t concern him so he didn’t need to worry about it. Calan was the twelve’s official representative to the Queen’s advisory staff, not him. Sawyer was simply here in a protective capacity. In case someone with a death wish felt like trying to kill one of the most powerful magical beings in the world.

She was utterly beautiful. Sawyer watched Cadie, a name he only dared use in the safety of his mind, out of the corner of his eye as he pretended to look out the window. Large golden eyes dominated a heart-shaped face with delicate, elfin features and rose-colored lips. The bottom was fuller than the top… tempting a man to nibble on it when he kissed her, sucking it into his mouth just to hear her moan in pleasure.

“I need to get engaged.”

He snapped back to attention and blinked in surprise. What the hell was she talking about… engaged? Engaged to whom and why? She didn’t have any romantic attachments. He would have known about it and ripped the wings off any male who dared to so much as look at her. If she was getting married to anyone, it would be him.

His growl was loud in the sudden silence of the room. All its occupants, including Cadeyra, turned to look at him in surprise.

“General?” she asked, her eyebrow raised slightly. “Did you have a question?”

His mouth went dry and he resisted the urge to look down to make sure he didn’t have a hard-on left over from his daydreams. What had he missed?

Clearing his throat, he concentrated on Cadeyra, his eyes narrowing. “Why do you need to get engaged?”

“For heaven’s sake! Do we have to go through everything all over again because your bodyguard wasn’t listening?” Lewis, an officious pain in the ass Sawyer had butted heads with before, burst out. “I thought Duke Calan was the representative of the twelve on this council?”

Cadeyra held up her hand, a delicate finger extended for silence.

“The general was stationed in Eastern Europe, I believe, so he may have insights that could be invaluable to us with this situation,” she said, her voice falling just short of chiding. Just.

Sawyer hid his surprise. He hadn’t realized that she knew anything about his military service. She’d have been briefed when he joined the twelve, of course, but he hadn’t thought she’d have been interested enough to retain the information.

“Isn’t that so, General?” the queen asked, her lips slightly pursed.

He nodded, still all out at sea as to what they were talking about. Something about his expression must have clued her in to his confusion because she spoke again.

“Prince Henrick from Lithandea will grace us with his presence next week, and our ambassador to the country has given us advanced warning. The prince intends to use his visit to court me with the eye to an alliance.”

Her voice and expression was calm and neutral but he easily picked up the distaste in the backs of her eyes. Irritation surged within him that a backwater prince like Henrick thought he had any chance with a queen of Cadeyra’s impeccable bloodlines. He was more than familiar with Lithandea… he’d been stationed in neighboring Cestrania for nearly a year when there had been unrest in the region. While Henrick’s father, Gustav, was well liked, Henrick himself was seen as spoiled and arrogant.

“Since I have no wish to ally the house of D’Amnayel with the Ebyas of Lithandea nor spark a diplomatic incident, I need to be engaged before then.” She turned back to the room as a whole. “So, gentlemen, that leaves us with the question… who do we get to pose as my fake fiancé?”

* * *

She had a headache she’d need a mountain of ibuprofen to deal with.

Cadeyra rubbed the bridge of her nose and sighed as the room erupted into argument around her. As she’d expected, everyone in the room had an opinion on who she should get engaged to, all shouting suggestions as loudly as they could. She’d expected them to be… civil? Maybe? Not this free-for-all as they all tried to outshout each other to get her attention.

But she wasn’t the idiot they seemed to think she was. She knew an engagement to her, even a fake one, was a big thing that would confer a lot of status and perks on whoever she chose. His name would forever be linked to hers, even long after they “split.” She needed to make sure the man in question could handle the media attention both during and after their short-lived relationship, and that he wouldn’t take advantage of his newfound royal connections for the wrong reasons.

“Maximus!”

“James Ramsbottom!!”

“No, it has to be Elijah Williams!”

She tried hard not to, but she cringed at some of the names being shouted out. They were probably very nice people but… Maximus was vain and totally obsessed with his appearance. She’d danced with him once and he’d spent most of it peering at himself in every shiny surface they passed. James was so boring it hurt. While obviously intelligent, his slow drawl made her want to stick a key in him and wind him up like a clockwork doll. And Elijah Williams…no, just no.

The son of a lord, he was so ambitious and politically minded that she had absolutely no intention of giving him any extra advantages in life. She did that and he’d no doubt find some way of removing power from the throne in favor of some weird system involving voting. She shuddered. No way for that to go wrong then…

“Your Majesty, may I have a word?”

Sawyer’s deep voice was an oasis of calm in the chaos. She looked up to find him standing at her side. Strange how her dragon rarely bothered with his movements. Almost as if the beast didn’t view him as a threat like it did everyone else.

“Of course,” she said, beginning to hold a hand up for silence, but the small shake of his head stopped her.

“In private, please.”

Without waiting for her to agree, he strode from the room, leaving her to trail along in his wake. She followed him as he left the council chambers and walked down the corridor. A small shiver wormed its way down her spine at his hard expression. She felt like a naughty schoolgirl walking into the headmaster’s office. The sudden image of Sawyer bending her over his knee while she wore a schoolgirl’s outfit brought a rush of blood to her cheeks and she scooted past him quickly.

Where the hell had that come from? She wasn’t into kinky stuff… of any kind.

For him you could be, the little voice in the back of her mind pointed out. For him, you’d be anything he wanted you to be.

She had to admit, the voice had a point. She’d been fascinated with the big general since he’d joined the twelve. Her heart had leapt the day he’d arrived and she’d waited eagerly for some sign he was her mate. But nothing. Her dragon had been as unresponsive to him as every other man she’d met.

No big deal though… often D’Amnayels never found their true mates, perhaps to ensure they concentrated on their duties to the people instead of being wrapped up in a love bond. But, she admitted to herself, if she were to have a mate, she’d want it to be Sawyer. Keeping that thought safely silent, she gathered herself and turned to face him.

He stood by the door, blocking the only exit to the room. For the first time since she’d met him, Cadie couldn’t read his expression. Of course, he was always difficult to read. It was no doubt a result of his military training, and she’d been told his upbringing had been rough too. That if he hadn’t gone into the army, he’d have ended up in jail or become a gang leader her blacks would have had to deal with.

Usually, though, she could at least get an idea of what was going on behind his azure eyes. Not now. Now he stood with his arms folded over his broad chest as he watched her. For the first time in her life she had an idea of what it must feel like to be prey.

His prey.

Another delicious shiver rolled down her spine at the thought, but she locked it away and looked at him curiously.

“You aren’t getting engaged.” His voice was hard, the tone final. That of a general used to being obeyed.

Out of the blue, her first instinct was to drop her gaze, to agree with anything he said, and that pissed her off just as much as his high-handed comment. Possibly more.

“Oh, I beg your pardon, General,” she replied, her tone clipped. “I wasn’t aware that the twelve had declared martial law and removed power from the crown.”

While rare, such a thing wasn’t totally unheard of. Her grandfather, Jenais the second, had been as mad as a hatter and had been removed for his and everyone else’s safety. The twelve blacks at the time had ruled as a regents council until her father had been old enough to take the throne.

But there was no regents council to remove power from her and no reason for them to do so. Her chin lifted in challenge as Sawyer stalked toward her. His azure gaze stayed locked to hers every step of the way and the tension in the room ramped up to spine tingling.

“You aren’t getting engaged,” he repeated, coming to a stop so close that she felt his body heat through the protective layer of her clothes, “…to anyone but me.”

She blinked but refused to look away. Butterflies in her stomach, she processed his harsh words.

Engaged. To him. Oh my.

An image of the two of them in bed filled her mind—all that hard muscled strength wrapped around her smaller, curvier body. Him braced over her as she welcomed him into the cradle of her thighs. She caught the small moan before it could escape as her pussy clenched hard at the thought. Heat spread out from her core.

“You?” To her surprise and approval, her voice emerged firm and businesslike rather than as breathy as she felt. All she wanted to do was say yes—shout it in fact—before he changed his mind, but she managed to hold it in.

“Why you?”

She didn’t back down or look away, waiting for his response with bated breath. Given this was Sawyer, she expected tactical reasons or perhaps security concerns. Instead, his lip curled back a little and a growl rumbled up from the center of his broad chest.

“Because I’ll rip the fucking wings off any dragon who dares touch you and choke him with them.”

Holy.

Shit.

She couldn’t stop her eyes opening wide in surprise at the visceral reply. Fury and something else glittered in the backs of his eyes and she swallowed, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe. She reached out. “Gen—”

He cut her off with another snarl, snapping a hand out to grab her wrist and stopping her from touching him.

“My name is Sawyer,” he corrected roughly, stroking the inside of her wrist with the tiniest soothing motion. “Start using it. Not ‘General.’”

This was personal, she realized suddenly. He was jealous, no, furious, at the idea of her being engaged to another man.

“Why?”

This time her voice was low and breathy, the plea of a woman to a man and his eyes darkened.

“Don’t ask.”