It was a fine night. A bit of a chill in the air, but that only made the couples who crossed my path huddle closer to each other. Men wrapped protective arms around their women. Women squeezed in, resting their heads on broad shoulders.

I barely paid attention, busy looking for Ciera. The sounds of laughter and silverware clinking against china filled the air whenever the door opens behind me, and it opens frequently. It’s unnerving, being in the presence of so many people for a prolonged period of time. Going out for supplies was one thing. The store was crowded, but the visit would end in a reasonable amount of time and I could keep moving. I didn’t have to sit still and overhear their inane conversations—or, worse, pretend to be interested in small talk.

Though I had nothing to worry about when it came to Ciera. She had crossed the line between interesting and fascinating. I was sure I’d never tire of hearing her speak about even the simplest things. She was articulate and witty and even sarcastic. The crack about bringing her laundry to the library had caught me off-guard, and I’d liked her all the more for it. It wasn’t only the dragon who wanted more from her. It was my human half, too. Perhaps that was even more dangerous.

Calm yourself, I warned silently. Remember your role in all of this. And hers. It was all about keeping her away from what we were doing, and that was it. Nothing deeper than that.

It would pain me to destroy her research—like destroying her dreams, nothing less than that—but it had to be done. All of it. For her sake as well as ours. She would need protection, even if she wouldn’t see it as being protection when I did it.

A car came to a stop in front of the restaurant. That was nothing new, and I was tempted to pay no attention. But I recognized the blonde curls of the girl sitting in the back seat, and I couldn’t help but watch as she opened the door.

I should’ve gone and helped her out, but I was too busy staring. She floored me. Absolutely robbed me of the power to move or speak or even think in clear, concise thoughts. The air around me stopped moving. All sound ceased. The rest of the world ceased to exist. There was only her.

She stepped out of the car, her slim legs bare to the knee thanks to the dress she wore. It was like watching music take on human form as she unfolded herself, standing up beside the car and calling out thanks to the driver as she closed the door.

When she caught my eye, I lost the ability to breathe.

This was her? This stunning, sparkling thing? She’d twisted her hair into a bun high on her head, but a few tendrils had escaped to brush against her neck along with a pair of dangling earrings. Her lips were the color of rich, sweet wine, and they curved in a shy smile. Her coat was open, revealing a black dress which hugged her lush body and made my mouth go dry.

My dragon threatened to burst free of his confines and take flight in the middle of a crowded Edinburgh street—after taking hold of her, first, and flying her away to some distant place where nobody could disturb us.

I clenched my jaw tight against the desire she stirred in my head and, more pressingly, in my loins. Desire unfurled there, spreading and swelling and taking over. Easy, easy, don’t scare her away, I warned myself. My dragon didn’t appreciate the sentiment—his roaring and thrashing made my head ache.

She was perfection. It almost felt sacrilegious to imagine the sorts of dirty, nasty, sweaty activities my dragon urged me to conduct.

And then, she tripped on her heels and reminded me just how heartbreakingly human she was. The sight broke me free of the trance she’d put me under, and I rushed to her side, catching her as she stumbled. Her cheeks burned redder than I’d ever seen them, almost matching the color on her lips.

“No matter how hard I try to be sophisticated…” she muttered, laughing in spite of herself. “I swear. I can only imagine what you must think of me.”

No. You can’t imagine. If you could, you’d demand that I take my hands off you right this very minute and get out of your life forever.

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” I managed to chuckle. “As long as you’re all right.”

She was so fragile. Light as a feather and hell-bent on hurting herself, or so it would seem. Taking care of her would be a full-time job.

A full-time job I suddenly wanted.

I wanted it very, very badly.