The mashed potatoes hit the wall with a satisfying splat. Unfortunately, they missed their intended target, the infuriating male side-stepping at the last moment, dark eyebrow arched in silent mockery. Leaning his broad shoulders against the wall, he swiped a finger through the potatoes, then popped it in his mouth. “It needs a little more salt there, sugar.”

“Don’t call me that.” My voice was a low snarl, a hint of steam escaping from my nostrils. Shit. I took a deep breath, searching for calm. I am an island, no one can touch me… The self-help tape played in my head, and I could almost hear the monotone voice soothing my inner dragon. She loved that stuff, lately she liked to think of herself as a ‘spiritual being’. Her words, not mine. My future is what I make of it, I am the one in charge… I am one with the universe… I snorted. I’d never been able to wrap my head around some of the more inane phrases that she loved with a fiery passion. Apparently, she was the part of me that was searching for inner Zen. My snort morphed into a sigh, but at least I wasn’t at risk of spit roasting myself an alpha wolf shifter anymore. Though, in my mind, he kinda deserved it. Pasting a sunny smile on my face, I scooped up another glob of potatoes.

The corner of Owen’s eye twitched, his gaze flicking from my face to the spoon, then back again. “Bree…”

At least he’d used my name this time. “What do you want, Owen?”

He shook his head slowly, as if I was the one riding the crazy train. “Not to be attacked in my own home?”

I aimed the spoon at a large serving bowl. The splat wasn’t anywhere near as satisfying. “You’re the one who begged me to come cook for you.”

He muttered under his breath, his eyes rolling up to the ceiling.

“I can hear you,” I pointed out. Barely. Something about balls and strength and, strangely, brimstone? Any other girl might think he was trying to sweet talk his way into their panties, but not me. It would take a lot more than the promise of fire between the sheets to get this dragon spreading her legs. Though, out of all the men I’d ever met, this one was the most tempting…

He gritted his teeth, his gaze settling on me with a steady weight I’d grown accustomed to. “You can’t throw potatoes at me.”

I met his badass alpha male glare with something equally scary—female I don’t give a shit. “This is my kitchen. You enter at your own peril.”

“You can’t continue to undermine me in front of my pack.”

I turned in a full circle, taking in the empty room, then arched my eyebrows.

His jaw creaked, and I swear I heard a molar hit the dust. “This isn’t working out.”

Huh? My spoon wavered in the air.

“You either need to join my pack or—”

“No.” Uh huh. Nope. No way in all the different levels of hell that this world could put me through. “I’m a free spirit.”

He pushed away from the wall, muscles rippling beneath the thin gray Henley that clung to him like a second skin. Bad Henley. “You’re a rogue.” He spat the word out like it was a bad thing.

I pointed at his scowl, accidentally letting another blob of potato fly. With mild curiosity, I watched as it sailed over his head and out of the door, a place I was hoping he would be visiting sometime soon.

Of course I was a rogue—an unregistered shifter who lived hidden among humans. It didn’t mean I was a serial killer waiting to slaughter sheep and steal babies from their cribs. I mean, come on, I was a dragon shifter. I liked pretty things, not pink and squishy things—the babies, not the sheep. My nose wrinkled. Sheep smelled. I yanked my brain, and my dragon, back on track. “You say that like it’s a bad thing,” I deadpanned.

“You need to pick a side.”

“Register, you mean?” I kept my words casual, barely hearing them over the sound of my heart threatening to burst out of my chest. Picking up the bowl of mashed potatoes, I hugged it close, hoping the steam would mask any smoke slippage going on.

He spread his arms, his voice low and soft, as if explaining something to a child, “That’s what Heartsridge is all about.” Or it could be that instinct had finally kicked in, flashing warning signs inside that thick skull of his. Warning, warning, don’t piss off the dragon shifter. Though that had never stopped him before. The man seemed to enjoy walking the slippery slope between safety, which was purely an illusion, of course, and his ass being set on fire.

He was also waiting for a reaction.

“Not for me it isn’t.”

“Bree…”

I narrowed my eyes. “Owen…”

We glared at each other. I knew what he wanted, what everyone here wanted. What they’d all been bugging me about ever since I’d followed the supposed leader of the rogues and set foot in this place. Supposed, because Michael wasn’t showing any sign of wanting to leave this quaint shifter town. But I wasn’t about to let myself be bossed around and told what to do. Not again.

But I also didn’t want to leave, not yet. For the first time in ages, I was … happy? Yep, I even heard the question mark inside my own head. Whatever. For some reason, I wasn’t ready to leave yet. I took a step to the side, his large body moving to block my exit. “The food’s getting cold.”

“Michael is registering.”

I refused to let my surprise show. “Good for him.”

He nodded. “And Anita.”

“No surprise there.” Michael and Nita. The only surprise would be if the pair of them actually admitted they were fated to be together. I fought the question on the tip of my tongue, losing the battle almost instantly. “And Axel?”

Owen’s nostrils flared, his eyes flashing gold as his wolf rose to the surface. Tension gripped his frame as his hands curled into fists. “He’s considering joining the pack.” Each word was forced out, his voice a low growl.

Poop a pink, fuzzy poodle, the alpha wolf was pissed. Errr … oops? “He’s a good fighter, you’d be lucky to have him join you.” Inside, I was sad. Kind of. Axel was a friend, we’d gotten to know each other a bit while training with Michael, and he was the last of my little band of merry misfits holding out on signing his life away on the dotted line. So, yeah, I was sad. I nearly missed Owen’s next words, too busy trying to convince myself that this weird feeling inside of me was sadness, and not amusement.

“Is there something I need to be aware of?”

“Huh?” Not the most elegant of answers, I know, but I didn’t have a clue… I took in his large, muscular frame, visibly vibrating with coiled tension. His flashing golden eyes and jawline that could have been cut from glass. His smoldering glare, all badass and alpha and … yeah, sexy AF. He looked ready to rip someone’s head from their shoulders. And maybe eat their entrails. Or jump on them, at least.

Oh. He was jealous! Whoops! Tension crackled between us as the silence dragged out, bathing my skin with delicious pinpricks of fire that settled right between my legs. Stifling a shudder, I straightened my spine and pursed my lips, giving him something to look at. We’d danced around this thing between us for weeks now, neither of us willing to give an inch, which had resulted in a very harsh case of lady blue balls. Lucky for me, I had nerves of steel and two talented hands. I also had a bad case of inquisi-titus, as I liked to call it. Dragons were nosy, we liked to stick our snouts in other peoples’ business and poke around a bit. Hey, we had to find our treasure somehow, right? But sometimes it was purely for the reaction. Something to do with us being hot blooded and always spoiling for a fight, but that was Dante talking, and I wasn’t going to think about that asshole right now. Not when I had this asshole to deal with. “And if there was?” In other words, what has it got to do with you?

I could almost hear the words he was trying to swallow back down. You’re mine. Grrrrr…. Some other kind of alpha bullshit. Silly wolf thought he had a claim on me. The sound that came out of my mouth sounded suspiciously like a raspberry.

“Fine.”

My eyebrows almost met in the middle of my forehead. “Fine … what?”

“If you want to play with the pup—”

“I do not want to play—”

“Good.” Satisfaction oozed out of him, coating the word that was almost a purr.

Damn him! “Axel is not a pup.”

“He’s not the right man for you.”

“And you are?” I tried to pull the words back in, but they floated on the air between us, breathy and high, not the controlled snarl of curses that they should have been.

“You care about me.”

“Do not.” My chin lifted as I forced myself not to look away.

He took a step forward, a small smile playing at the edges of his lips. Full, sensuous lips. “When I was shot, you cried.”

When he was shot. When he nearly died, he meant! Silly wolf had thought he was indestructible, facing down an enemy with a high-powered rifle. So, yeah, when I’d seen his torn-up body, blood dripping everywhere, I’d sniffed once. Maybe twice. “I was worried that I would miss my chance to beat your ass.”

“Sure, that’s what it was, sugar.” He inched closer, his eyes never leaving mine, as though he was worried that if he broke this strange hold he had on me, I’d vanish into thin air.

I stood my ground, like I did every time I danced with this insufferable male. “I made a promise to cook for you.” Only to escape Dante’s attention, but I kept that one quiet. “I do not break my promises.” The puff of smoke that escaped was the least of my worries right about now, I was more concerned with the predatory gleam in Owen’s eyes.

“You need a pack. People to look after you.”

I shrugged. “I needed a job.”

“Why are you being so difficult?” he muttered on a growl.

I masked the sharp stab of pain, pushing it deep down inside and burying it along with the old memories, only years of practice allowing me to keep my face smooth and blank. Forcing a coldness into my voice, I snapped back, “You’re like a dog with a bone. Just give it up, wolf, I don’t want to play with you.”

He jerked back, his eyes shuttering and fading to the earthy green that had captivated me once. I could almost hear the argument going on inside his head. He’d pushed—again—and backed me into a corner, and my talons were out. He stood a better chance with charm and laughter than dominance displays, and he knew it.

Pffft. I’d thought the man intelligent, but turns out what my mom had once whispered to me was true: a male was only intelligent when a woman managed to come between him and his dick. I’d always taken that to mean that we should grab hold and lead them with it. But hey, I’d never professed to being an expert in dicks. Or was that on dicks?

Pulling me back from my inner ramblings, my dragon huffed inside of me, warming my skin in warning. She wasn’t on board with us burning our bridges, especially not with the male she’d decided was her own personal chew toy, but she was just as pissed as I was. Maybe even more so. After all, she was the bigger alpha in our relationship, I just hung on in there for the ride. “I need to get dinner on the table before your pack starts chewing their own hind legs,” I huffed out, wiggling the bowl of potatoes in his direction.

A bark of laughter left him as he shook his head. “You’ve got a death wish, little dragonette.” He took the potatoes from me and, after I’d gathered a couple more dishes from the table, ushered me through the door with a wave of his arm. Back to being the easygoing king of his domain.

“No, I have confidence,” I corrected, sweeping past him, nose firmly pointed in the air.

He chuckled, earning a pointed glare. “Yes, you do, sugar.”

“Don’t—”

His low mutter drifted to my ears, cutting me off, “And it’s fucking hot.”

Oh hell. Do not jump on the big bad wolf and take him for a ride. Bad idea.

I carried on walking. Somehow.