I still had not come to terms with the horror of hearing Chyna’s cries and seeing the smoke and rising flames. Realizing she was in the midst of it had been the worst, most frightening moment of my entire existence. I had a lot of terrible moments to call on, plenty that would’ve cracked a weaker dragon. Finding Chyna that way had topped all of them. If I didn’t focus, my hands still shook and my heart still pounded out of control.

My dragon paced like a caged animal.

She was so small and helpless. She’d been a tiny lump on the ground, coated in dark mud that at first I’d thought was her burned, cracked skin. She was still helpless as a kitten, yet she was already fighting with me. More of that stubborn streak. But, if that stubbornness of hers kept her alive, I loved every bit of it.

I stood up and stared down at my tiny mate under the layers of blankets. Her injuries could have been so much worse. Her skin was red tinged and tender, as though she had a bad sunburn. Her foot was the worst. She’d be fine, I knew, but it was harder to convince my dragon. He demanded revenge. If Chyna hadn’t poured that gasoline around, someone else had. She’d almost died. Someone would pay.

“You must eat. I will make you breakfast.” I did not want to leave her, even for a few minutes, but she needed sustenance to heal.

In my kitchen, I grabbed a few things I thought would make a decent meal. I was not a cook. Or a cleaner. Dirty dishes were piled high in the sink. Usually, rather than clean them, I just threw them away and bought more. Just as I did with clothes.

Now that I had a mate, though, she would do the cooking when she was healed. Until then, she would have to deal with whatever I could throw together. Which was not much. An egg, maybe some burned toast, and a hunk of sausage cooked by dragon fire.

When I made it back to my bedroom, Chyna was sitting up, frowning at me. I sighed and put the food down in front of her. “What?”

“I want to go home.”

Anger bubbled up inside. I would care for her. I had to care for her. I would not even be able to keep my dragon stable if I was not near her to assure myself she was okay. “You are home. This is your home now.”

Her eyes widened, and she shook her head. “No. No, my home is still my home. This is your home, and I shouldn’t be hanging out here for days on end.”

“You live here now. With me. We can move your stuff here when you feel better. Or we can buy you new stuff.” I pushed the food closer. “You should eat. The sooner you rebuild your strength, the faster you will heal.”

“I must still be dreaming.” Chyna pushed the food back at me and threw her good foot over the side of the bed to try and get up. “This is insane. We had one night together. One great night. One fantastic night, but still, only one night. I’m not moving in with you. While I appreciate you saving my life, I don’t owe you anything for it. You can’t keep me here. Call my sister. I want to go home. Now.”

I easily caught her before she could stand and pulled her into my lap. “Stop. You cannot go anywhere right now.”

“You can’t keep me here.”

“I can and I will.” I pressed my face into the crook of her neck and felt her body tighten against mine. “This mark? You are mine, Chyna. Even if you were not, I would not release you right now. You are injured. You must rest, and you should not be alone.”

“It means…” She cleared her throat. “It means nothing. It’s just a hickey.”

I gripped the back of her neck and moved her so that she was sitting across my lap and staring into my eyes. “Just a what?”

“A hickey. It’s nothing.” She blinked too fast and looked away. Lying. She knew that the mark wasn’t nothing.

I pulled her into me even tighter and pressed my lips against hers. Instantly, her arms went around my neck, and her hands tangled in my hair. Pulling back just enough to meet her gaze, I licked my lips and fought for control. “Not nothing. We were made for each other. My mate. We belong to each other. Forever, Chyna.

Her eyes cleared, and a fire appeared in them, not dissimilar to the fire she’d been trapped in. Placing her hands against my chest, she shoved, fighting to get off me. To avoid hurting her, I gently put her down in the bed and stood above her, unhappily glaring at her.

“What now?”

“What is wrong with you?”

“Currently? I have a crazy mate who can’t stop fighting about the simplest things.”

“The simplest things?”

“I will provide you with an easy life, mate. You do not know the things some mated females go through. Not all dragons are easy. We are not all roses and sunshine like Cezar.” I picked up her plate of food and tried to hand it to her again. “I will not require of you the things some men do. I wish for things to be easy for you.”

Tears filled her eyes, and my chest felt like it was cracking open. My mother had cried. Only when things were really bad. I was not treating her badly, though. Not that I thought. So, why was she crying?

“Easy for me? So, you think I should just move in and do what? Shop and paint my nails?”

“Of course not. There will be household things for you to do. I do not cook or clean well. You will take care of that. Mostly, we will just spend our time together, enjoying being mates.”

In the blink of an eye, her plate was flying back at my head. I ducked and growled. “What in fire’s sake?”

Chyna sat up higher, her entire body tense. “I don’t care what you think you are to me or I am to you. Get the fuck out. Or call my sister and get me the hell out of here. I’m not your maid. I’m not giving up my life and moving in here because you need a fucking servant. Male chauvinist asshat! Of course, Cherry gets the amazing dragon and I’m stuck with the sexist dragon whose ideas are stuck in the last century.”

Shocked by her outburst, I stepped back. “You think Cezar is a better mate?”

“A patch of grass would be a better mate. Get out! I’d rather my foot fall off than stay here for another second. Get my sister here, or I’m going to snap and then you really won’t like me. This behavior must toast your marshmallows if you expected a mate to act like a subservient, proper little demure housewife, daintily wiping your ass and having dinner on the table for you when you get home. Why are you still standing here? OUT!”

Faced with a female who’d clearly lost her mind, I backed away with my hands raised. I did not know what had angered her, but she was livid. That rage would have scared anyone. I swallowed no pride in rushing out.

Standing outside of my bedroom, I dragged my hands down my face and groaned. My mother had never acted like that. She had always just done her tasks and been happy to take care of the castle and her children. I tried to imagine what my father would have done if my mother would have screamed at him and thrown a plate at his head the way Chyna had.

Curiously, the thought almost brought a smile to my face. I would have enjoyed seeing that. My father would’ve been incensed, though, and the punishment would have been swift and harsh. My Chyna would never be treated that way.

Thoughts of my mother and father killed any last vestiges of joy I harbored. I headed outside to give Chyna some space and to talk to my brother.