Page 3 of Delivered to My Dragons

Dragons only had one fated mate as far as we knew. It had been almost ten years…

Why in the hell I still had hope for a mate was beyond understanding. I blamed it on my dragon.

The beast.

“Ready?” I asked, tearing Keir from his stare.

“Yes.” We walked out to the kitchen and through the back door to the garage. Keir snatched my keys from my hand at the last second and jumped into the driver’s seat. I could’ve stopped him, but as soon as I got home, my hackles were given permission to stand down.

I got into the passenger seat, noticing my best friend’s smile. A win was a win, I supposed, and driving my truck wasn’t something I normally let him do.

He liked clothes and order. I liked cars and movies.

“Do you have to be on that thing even when we’re taking a trip?” he asked.

“I’m checking my emails. Calm down and drive. You’re just hangry.”

He snorted. “I am. I’m buying four of those tomahawk steaks. You can have one.” He chuckled at himself.

“That’s fine. I’ll buy my own.”

While I was scrolling, I noticed an ad at the top of my email. I clicked on it and read the reviews. An app that would match you to your fated mate.

I huffed out a laugh.

“What?” Keir asked. “What’s funny?”

“There’s an ad on my email. It’s an app that helps shifters and monsters find mates.”

He turned from the main highway into the parking lot. “Times have changed.”

When we parked, he turned to me. “Nix?”

“Our house is too fucking silent, Keir.” This ad, this spam communication had needled me right in the place that hurt the most. We had only had Rachel in our lives for a few weeks before she decided that another dragon, an alpha of a horde with more treasure, was a better mate for her. She said she never believed in all that fated mate stuff; we made our own destinies.

My beast needed a female in his life. Not only a mate but a friend and someone to come home to, or she could travel with us if she liked.

“I know, brother. It’s not for a lack of trying. My dragon looks for a mate in every female we encounter. He’s still looking for a companion for us, even though…”

Keir refused to speak Rachel’s name since the rejection. At first, I thought it juvenile but then, I realized it was simply a part of his self-defense against the hurt. He never spoke her name.

“Mine too. Maybe some meat will help,” I chuckled putting my phone away. The idea of the app had piqued my interest, but I would revisit it later.

He got out. “Yes. Meat always helps.”

Chapter Three

Iris

Mondays were always the busiest at Bessie’s. When I started working there, I thought it might be Friday nights before and after the local drive-in movies showed their five-dollar feature or Sundays when people took things slowly or right after the local church let out services.

All of that was wrong.

Mondays were the days. The town’s business offices were closed on Mondays, along with the grocery store and even the bar. It took every last ounce of energy in me to get through the dinner service in one piece.

The meatloaf special sold out—twice.

I jiggled the lock on the apartment Bessie let me stay in and kicked off my shoes before the door closed behind me. I had picked up a mechanism at a store I’d seen passing through another town. It gave some more oomph to any lock. That along with the door stopper that leaned against the bottom of the door knob made me feel a bit more secure.

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