by Katie Reus
“We’ll get out of here soon,” she said softly, and he realized he’d gripped the railing again.
Damn it. He shoved his hands in his pockets again, beyond embarrassed. He was a dragon shifter. A powerful male who’d been on his own for a long damn time. This was ridiculous. He should be protecting and reassuring this female, not the other way around. “I know nothing will happen. It’s just…the small spaces.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
“Keep talking?” He liked the sound of her voice.
She smiled, and he felt it all the way to his soul. Yeah, he was seriously screwed where this female was concerned. He’d heard about the mating call, and he always thought that it wasn’t necessarily bullshit—but for some reason he hadn’t expected or remotely understood how strong the pull would be. He was just grateful that his mating manifestation wasn’t showing right now. Because that would be impossible to explain. Traditionally, for his familial line his manifestation showed with fire. Everywhere. The flames wouldn’t burn anything, but they would coat him and everything in the near vicinity.
“Okay,” she said laughingly. “What do you want me to talk about?”
“Tell me about yourself.”
“All right. If I start to bore you, just tell me to stop. Like I said, I’m an artist. I make jewelry mostly, but I do sculptures as well. Centerpieces—like for dining room or living room tables—are by far my most popular non-jewelry item… Still want me to keep going?”
He nodded. “What about non-work related stuff. Where did you grow up? How did you know you wanted to be an artist?”
“Oh, well, I grew up in a very traditional, strict household. Then during a class field trip when I was in middle school we went to a museum and an entire new world of art opened up to me. My parents were horrified that my class was shown art with naked people,” she said, laughing. “Honestly they were well-meaning-ish but so ridiculous. Then when I decided to get a degree in art, they about lost their minds. They were glad I went to college at all, however. My mom had been afraid that—and I’m quoting her exactly—I would turn into a hippie and join a commune where I’d end up being one of many wives to some guy. I think she was confusing communes and cults. But yeah. My parents were set in their ways.”
He snorted, enjoying the soft, melodic rhythm of her words. “You’re talking about your parents in the past tense.”
She nodded. “My dad died of colon cancer years ago. And my mom was an alcoholic, though I didn’t realize it until I was older. Her liver finally just gave out. They died a few months apart.”
There was a wealth of sadness in her voice and he regretted asking her to talk about herself. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, I probably should’ve stuck to something lighter for elevator talk with a stranger.”
Before he could respond, the elevator jerked to life, and her smile grew even bigger.
“Well that’s perfect timing. We can both get to our meetings.” She seemed relieved, probably because of the heavier tone of the conversation.
He simply nodded. Though he hated small spaces, he wouldn’t have minded staying where he was just a little bit longer. They both stepped out onto the third floor.
“I think we may be going to the same place,” he said, nodding at the reception desk where Mrs. Heck, an efficient human woman in her forties, sat in front of a computer. She smiled at the two of them. There were various offices on this floor, so Keva might not realize they were headed in the same direction, but he had no doubt.
“Mr. Hunter, good to see you again. And you must be Ms. Sheehan?”
“Yes.” Keva then looked at him questioningly. “You’re one of the attorneys?”
“No, I made the offer on what I think is your property. The first name listed is Eileen.”
Surprise flashed across her face. “My legal first name, but I go by Keva since my mom’s first name was Eileen too.”
“The conference room is ready if you two would like to follow me,” Mrs. Heck said.
“Did you need to wait for your attorney?” Dagen asked. Suddenly he was annoyed that she was here by herself. Someone should be here to look over the offer for her.
Her cheeks flushed pink and she shook her head. “It’s just me. And to be fair, I’m likely going to tell you no. But I know your attorney, so I agreed to it out of respect for…” She trailed off, snapping her mouth shut.
He wanted to ask what she’d been about to say, but the administrative assistant stopped at the last door and nodded to where the two attorneys were already waiting inside. “They’re ready for you.”
He moved inside and dropped his voice to subvocal levels so Keva wouldn’t be able to hear. “We need to come up with a better offer. Stall for a few minutes and draw up something new.” Then he laid out his new offer quickly, knowing it was higher than what the building was actually worth.
He wouldn’t risk insulting her. More than that, he wanted to start courting her properly. Because screw this acquisition—he didn’t care about any of it. He simply cared about getting to know the woman from the elevator who’d tried to make him feel better when it was clear he was feeling claustrophobic.
Turner nodded once and started to gather the papers from the long conference table.
But he saw that Keva had already picked up one of the proposed contracts and was frowning.
“This is the wrong offer,” he said, stepping forward, wishing he could simply snatch it out of her hands.
She frowned more as she flipped one of the pages. Then she snorted, the sound adorable. “Well if you’d told me this offer over the phone, I could’ve saved you a lot of trouble. I’ll admit I was a little curious about this meeting. But this is beyond insulting.” She dropped the stapled set of papers back onto the table, her face a neutral mask as she looked between the three of them. Her expression might reveal nothing, but he could scent her anger. Gone was the friendly, smiling woman from before. Instead she gave him an icy smile. “I can tell you right now I’m not going to sell. I’m sorry you wasted your time. Actually, I’m not sorry about that. I’m sorry I wasted my time.” She picked up her purse and started for the door.
His dragon was desperate to stop her. Moving with inhuman speed, he stepped in front of her. “This offer was a mistake.”
Fire sparked in her eyes, and a hint of fear, which disturbed him. He immediately stepped back, not wanting to crowd her space. “I’d say it was a mistake. Look, I don’t like wasting my time. If Conall wants the property, just tell him to call me. I’ll work something out with him. But this,” she said, motioning to the contract on the table, “is garbage. I expected more from him.” A hint of disappointment crept into her voice.
She knew Conall? He was surprised enough that when she stepped past him he didn’t try to stop her. Not that he had the right to. Unfortunately he had to let her go. For now. But he was going to make this right.
And then he was going to make her his.
Chapter 2
Dagen stalked through the front door of his Alpha’s home. Conall’s door was open to the clan most of the time. It was only ever locked when he wanted alone time with his mate.
He paused in the foyer as Rhea, Conall’s mate—a fierce wolf shifter—stepped out from a side door that led to an office of sorts. Next to her was Arya, Conall’s mother, walking with Rhea as they whispered about something to do with a baby shower. He nodded once, hoping to escape polite conversation so he could talk to his Alpha.
“Hey Dagen, how did the meeting go?” Rhea asked.
He lifted a shoulder. He’d screwed up royally and there was no way they’d be getting that property anytime soon. Not that he gave a shit about buying it now.
Arya stepped forward and patted him gently on the cheek. “What’s wrong? You look like you have female troubles.”
Despite the fact that he was over three hundred years old, she treated him like a baby dragon. To be fair, she was ancient and she treated everyone under a thousand years
old the same, so he didn’t take it personally. In truth, he kind of liked it. She’d become a mother of sorts to the entire clan since rising from her Hibernation. Not exactly surprised by her insight, he started to respond, but paused when he scented something burning.
Just then the front door slammed open and Arya’s two sisters-in-law—Mira and Prima—came through—mostly naked. Which wasn’t actually that out of the ordinary. Their clothes were in tatters, singed everywhere, and neither of them wore shoes. But they grinned widely as they spotted Rhea and Arya.
“You were right about the rocket launcher!” Prima said.
And that was definitely Dagen’s cue to leave. These females, since awakening from a long Hibernation—they’d been sleeping far longer than he’d been alive—were completely insane. But they were Arya’s very ancient sisters-in-law. Not that they looked old, not unless you looked into their eyes. Then you could see millennia of knowledge.
“I think you scared him off,” Rhea said, snickering as he headed down the hallway.
He wasn’t even embarrassed to admit it. All those females were crazy.
When he reached the entryway to the office, he saw that Conall’s door was already open. The Alpha nodded once at him and motioned for him to come in as he ended a phone call. “I reviewed the legal documents for that condo complex. Solid buy. Good find. We’ll invest.” And that was Conall, always straight to the point.
Dagen took a seat in the chair in front of Conall’s desk. He’d known the deal was solid and wouldn’t have given it to his Alpha otherwise. Right now he still felt like he was trying to prove himself, prove that he was worthy of being part of this clan. “I screwed up today. I wanted to buy that little jewelry store on Main Street. Owned by Keva Sheehan. It’s the last holdout we have, the only building we don’t own in the area.” He’d hoped to put in the offer and then let Conall know—his Alpha had made it clear that he didn’t want to micromanage him. “She was not happy with my offer and hinted that she knew you.”
“Yeah, I know Keva.” He said her name with a familiarity that bothered Dagen for no good reason. “I don’t want to buy her property.”
“Why not?”
Conall lifted an eyebrow.
“I’m not questioning you as an Alpha, just from a business standpoint.” And okay, he wanted to know how his Alpha knew her. He didn’t like that streak of jealousy that sliced through him.
“I like Keva—and our clan does a lot of business with her. We don’t mess with her. Ever.”
It took Dagen a long moment to realize that he was actually growling. He was fucking growling at his Alpha. “I’m…” Hell, he wasn’t sorry. “What is Keva to you?” he snapped, his dragon no doubt in his eyes, even as he tried to rein himself in.
Conall’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “What’s she to you?”
Dagen’s jaw tightened as he struggled to get himself under control. “I…think she’s my mate.”
All the tension easing from Conall’s shoulders, he sat back in his chair. “Ah.”
“That’s it?”
His Alpha stood and strode toward a window. He stared out at the mountains in the distance. “She knows about our kind.”
Dagen blinked. “What?”
“Not all of our clan knows she’s aware of our existence, but…she’s under my protection. So tread lightly.”
And, he was back to growling again. Conall shot him an exasperated look.
“I’m not challenging you, but I can’t seem to stop this,” Dagen muttered as he stood. Fuck. His Alpha was happily mated. But Dagen’s dragon gave exactly zero fucks. He’d never felt out of control like this. Ever.
Conall’s lips twitched ever so slightly as he turned to face Dagen. “I know you’ll respect her, but I’m serious. Tread lightly. She was hurt in the past by a shifter. And I won’t tell you more than that.”
Dagen’s dragon clawed at the surface, rebelling against the idea of anyone threatening his female. “When you say hurt, do you mean physically?”
Conall didn’t respond, but that was a response itself. And it was enough to make Dagen’s dragon go into a rage. Someone had hurt Keva? If they weren’t dead already, they would be soon, his dragon promised, years and years of civilization stripped away in an instant.
Hurt a shifter’s mate? You paid. Usually in blood. Or with your life.
“So you are having female troubles,” Arya said the second Dagen stepped out of Conall’s office.
“You’re not even gonna pretend you weren’t eavesdropping?” he asked as Conall snarled, “Mom! Leave the man alone,” from the office.
But Arya simply linked her arm through Dagen’s and started walking with him down the hallway.
“No troubles,” he said when she didn’t continue. He was not having this conversation with her.
She simply made a tsking sound. “You need to court her properly.”
“I know.”
“And you must bring her gifts,” she said, smiling, undeterred by his brusque tone.
“I know, thank you.” He knew very well how to court a female, thank you very much. He’d seen enough of his former clanmates do it, and seriously, he wasn’t fucking stupid. Except for the lowball offer he’d made earlier, though he hadn’t known Keva was his mate when he’d made it.
“Well if you need help with anything, come to me. I’m very old and very wise.”
“And not at all lacking in ego.”
She grinned then kissed him on the cheek before leaving through the front door.
“If you know what’s good for you, don’t go to her for anything involving females,” Rhea said as she stepped out of the living room by the foyer. She didn’t even glance at him as she typed something into her phone. “You’ll regret it.”
“Noted.” He loved Arya and did view her as a mother figure, but yeah, he wasn’t going to her for advice about women. Maybe advice on weapons or plans for world domination, but nothing else.
He did, however, need to come up with a game plan for courting Keva. He’d never courted a female before. That was what you did when you found your mate. And he’d feared he might never meet his—he’d actually been resigned to never meeting her. Now, to have found her, and a human no less, he was stunned and glad the universe had seen fit to make him wait.
Now to convince her that he wasn’t a complete jackass.
Chapter 3
Keva smiled as her latest customer stepped outside her shop, the little bell jingling overhead as she left.
Her smile froze in place as a woman she recognized as part of Conall’s clan stepped inside—Conall’s mother, something Keva had figured out on her own. Though the woman looked to be in her thirties, she knew that shifters aged differently than humans.
Two newcomers she’d never met before were with Arya. Definitely dragons, given their height. Maybe they were new to the clan? Because Keva definitely would’ve remembered the two tall, striking females. She’d learned to recognize dragon shifters by their size alone, and all these women were tall, elegant, and okay, a little terrifying. But that was only because she knew they could shift into giant fire-breathing animals and burn her to a crisp if they so chose.
“Hello ladies, welcome to The Gallery, please let me know if you need help with anything.”
They all smiled politely at her but she wasn’t fooled by the civil smiles, especially from the two unknown women. They were tall, just shy of six feet—maybe. And when she looked into the silvery-gray eyes of the first one it was as if she was being watched by a predator. A very ancient one. She could be wrong though. It was impossible to know and her knowledge on shifters was limited to what her ex-boyfriend had told her and then what she’d gleaned in the last few years.
She fought off a shudder at the thought of her past, not wanting to go there. He was dead and out of her life. For a couple years after his death, she’d randomly used one of his credit cards so his family wouldn’t know he died. He was a loner by nature and would go years with
out talking to them. So she figured she’d be okay. But she’d wanted to be smart, to make sure that if they got curious about him, he had some sort of online trail after they’d “broken up.” It was pretty sneaky, but she was good at surviving. And she had a whole story for them if they ever came sniffing around about how they’d broken up and that she hadn’t heard from him since.
“Everything today is on me,” Arya said to the two females without looking up from a display case of rings.
The woman with the jet-black hair twisted at her nape simply snorted and went over to the display of necklaces featuring dragon wings. Most of her customers, the human ones anyway, assumed they were angel wings. But they were most definitely fashioned after dragon wings. Keva had always been into making jewelry, and after she’d witnessed Conall in his shifted form, the image of his wings had been seared into her brain forever. He’d saved her that day, given her freedom. She would never forget that. She’d wanted to honor him in some way and she did that through her jewelry.
“These are breathtaking,” one of the women said as she approached the counter.
Normally Keva interacted more with her customers, but these women put her a little on edge. It was silly to think that a countertop could actually stop these women if they wanted to attack her, but she was still using it as a barrier of sorts. After yesterday and that meeting with that big jerk from Conall’s clan, she was feeling edgy and annoyed in general. She knew she should simply call Conall and ask him what the deal was. If he wanted her building, she’d sell it to him. But only for a fair price. He might have saved her life, but he’d also given her a backbone in the process.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
The woman held the necklace up and eyed it curiously. “These wings really are intricate. You have a lot of talent. I was told you make everything by hand.”
