At the sound of her heart-wrenching crying, Dragon jerked away from her mouth.

“Did I hurt you?” He moved to the side, freeing her body.

She folded in herself, making her long body small, her knees to her chest, her arms hugging her bent legs.

“Jade?” He wanted to touch her, caress her, make sure he hadn’t caused her physical pain.

She had tried to kill him, once again, but he couldn’t fathom hurting her. He should have known better than to try to domesticate a phoenix-panther; the fiery predator might consent to be a pet but it would always end up burning you. Still, he couldn’t help but feel this unbearable, irrational longing to make her his.

She hadn’t killed him though. Feigning sleep, he watched her under his lashes and saw how she hesitated when she could have inflicted the fatal blow. Of course, he would never allow her that, but she didn’t know he was awake when she positioned the blade against his throat. At her reluctance, his heart almost betrayed him. Another of the perks of not being mortal was that he could command his body to do anything he wished, including appearing lifeless if he so desired. But when she didn’t pull back to sever his carotid artery, he let himself hope that the sinuous assassin could be tamed yet.

His hand left the bedding to land on her wounded shoulder. His finger skimmed her cold skin, mindful not to apply any pressure. Her sobs mixed with a long shiver.

“I can’t kill you,” she whispered.

“I’m glad to hear that.” Dragon made light of her statement, but inside, his dragon roared in triumph and unabashed joy.

Under his touch, she uncurled, displaying her naked body that was too thin and yet so feminine. Her chest heaved as she gulped some air after all the crying, and her small breasts were covered in goosebumps, her nipples rigid under his stare.

“I can’t complete my mission, but I won’t be your whore.” Her voice sounded broken but louder.

As if slapped, he jerked away from her, raising his hand from her shoulder.

“You won’t have my body.” Her eyes bore into his, challenging him. “I won’t be willing,” she added.

He seethed. “I won’t force you.” He didn’t remind her that only a moment ago she had grabbed at the sheet separating them, trying to remove the flimsy barrier. Only his will had stopped things from going any further.

Uncovering his body, he swung his long legs to the side of the bed and pushed himself up. As he walked out of the bedroom, he grabbed his kilt and shirt and hastily donned them. As an afterthought, he picked up the holster and his ceremonial dagger. No need to give her ammunition.

In the foyer, Valerian and Lars turned at hearing the door slam.

“Is everything okay?” Lars asked while Valerian studied him.

“Everything’s perfect.” Dragon’s arousal had vanished the moment Jade compared what was passing between them to a paid exchange of sexual favors or worse yet, rape, but his anger was mounting.

His dark mood showed because Lars raised his hands in peace.

“What are you going to do with the mercenary?” Valerian pointed his chin at the bedroom he had just vacated. It seemed that his friend had only one question on his mind.

Dragon was about to unleash his tongue, but realized that his frustration was to blame, not his friend, who had reason to take him to task.

“I can’t get rid of her,” he finally admitted.

Two stunned friends stared back at him.

“I didn’t expect you to be so… honest,” Valerian said after a moment of silence.

“What’s happening to you?” Lars asked, brow furrowing.

Dragon passed his hand over his jaw, his growth scratching his skin. He dropped on the couch by the fireplace, one leg over the armrest. “I don’t know.” Leaning his head against the edge of the backrest, he looked at the wooden beams on the high ceiling, looking for an answer. “I’ve never felt so off-center.”

“She’s dangerous.” Valerian sat on the opposite divan.

Dragon scoffed and shook his head. “Don’t I know it. She just pressed my dagger against my jugular.”

“Dragon—” Valerian started, then stopped.

Dragon lowered his gaze to his friends. “Have you ever felt like you can’t breathe for want of someone?”

Valerian’s mouth flattened in a tight line. “Yes, I have.” His hand fisted. “Not something I’d recommend.”

“You can’t possibly entertain the thought of having an affair with the assassin.” Lars stared at Dragon, then turned toward Valerian as if looking for support. “It’s wrong on so many levels. I can’t even start to list them.”

Valerian’s lips quirked in a sad grin. “But that’s the whole point, isn’t it?” he asked Dragon. “It’s so wrong, somehow it makes it right to pursue what you can’t have.”

The pain in his friend’s voice was difficult to ignore, but the foyer’s door opened, interrupting their conversation.

Lauren strode in, followed by Gilda a few steps behind. Dressed in their evening gowns, the two women looked beautiful, and yet Dragon couldn’t muster any desire for them.

Lauren stopped in front of Dragon. “I heard that the assassin is still here.”

Dragon shot an accusing look at both Valerian and Lars, but they shook their heads.

“What’s going on?” Lauren stepped closer to the couch, her dainty slippers touching Dragon’s naked foot.

Gilda lingered behind, hovering by Valerian.

“It’s a matter of safety,” Dragon said, standing up.

She tilted her chin to meet his eyes but didn’t step back.

“Whose safety?” she asked.

“Yours.” True, but not the entire truth.

From a tactical point of view, it was good practice to keep your enemy close. With Jade by his side, he didn’t have to guess where the following attack would happen. Eventually, they would apprehend someone who would talk, and Dragon would gladly relinquish the prisoner to the Fifth Moon Confederation. As long as it wasn’t Jade.

Lauren canted her head. “Let’s be clear on something,” she said. “I won’t be humiliated. I don’t care what you do with that bitch you keep in your room as long as word of your unnatural affair doesn’t reach the rest of Solaria.”

The princess has unsheathed her claws. Good for her, Dragon thought, considering the woman in front of him with renewed respect.

“Do you have any other requests?” he asked.

Lauren’s eyes went to Gilda who slightly lowered her head, then she turned back to Dragon. “Once your heirs are conceived, we’ll move out to a villa of our choosing.”

It wasn’t unheard for dragons’ brides to live independent lives, but they usually remained under the same roof, so that their progeny grew up with the three parents. While Valerian and Lars’s befuddled expressions showed their shock, Lauren’s unorthodox request didn’t stir in Dragon the angry response it should have. Not because the idea of living separated from his children didn’t make him livid. The truth was he couldn’t envision conceiving those children with either Lauren or Gilda in the first place.