Page 37 of Rescued By The Dragon

My mother obliviously ate, while Georgina took my clothes off with her eyes. Amara walked over a few minutes later, nibbling on her bottom lip, something brewing on her face.

Georgina took a bite of eggs. “So, Dorran. I hear you like blondes—,”

Amara tripped a few feet from us, I jerked up to grab her, but she’d already poured the entire picture of tea all over Georgina.

She shrieked, and jumped up, her wings spreading wide, and fire fuming from her nose. Stepping in front of Amara, I glared at her, daring Georgina to touch her.

“I’m so sorry,” Amara said in a small voice behind me.

Georgina's eyes turned red, but she backed down when she noticed my face.

My mother sighed loudly. “God. Let’s go get you cleaned up. Can you box this up and send it with my son?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Mother and Georgina left in a fit, leaving Amara and me. Amara bent down to retrieve the tea pitcher, keeping her gaze down, and she smiled.

When she stood back up, I cleared my throat. “You little minx. You did that on purpose.”

Amara blinked those blue eyes. “Did what on purpose, Mr. Dragon Prince?”

She turned to go to the kitchen, but I grabbed her forearm, and whispered, “I have news from my lawyer. Can you meet me tonight in my room? We have important things to discuss.”

I wanted to see how she looked laying on my bed, her blonde hair a halo around her head, and her body pressed into my satin sheets.

Amara had no idea what mating with a dragon truly entailed, and I wanted to tell her. Show her.

Amara’s body grew warm. “I’ll be there.”

Chapter Thirteen

Amara

Zella had the living room roped off when I got home that night doing some dance from social media while recording.

Stasa stood on a stool while the family’s tailor pinned the skirt of her new dress.

“Amara,” my stepmother said. "Thank God you’re finally home. Here is a list of things that need to be completed before tomorrow night. I have some guests coming over after the ball for drinks, and I need all this finished.”

She flicked the folded-up list between her fingers, and I grabbed it.

Kicking off my shoes, I unfolded the paper and read down the list of chores. Clean the floorboards. Alphabetize the books. The list went on, draining my energy with just the thought of doing any of these chores.

They would take hours, especially with my rendezvous with Dorran, and preparing for the ball—

It was her way of ruining my chances of attending the ball.

A painful swirl of anger twisted in my stomach. There had been so many times over my life that I wanted to confront her, but this topped the list.

She was afraid. Afraid that Dorran would like me. It meant she saw something in me other than just the inconvenience left behind after my father died.

She was afraid that Dorran would choose me.

That I wouldn’t be wedged under her thumb anymore.

“Is there a problem?” she asked, quirking an eyebrow as if she cared what I thought.

“Of course not,” I said softly. “Did the pasta I ordered make it?”

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