Page 14 of Dragon Prince of New York

“One weeks and five days,” he corrects.

“Not helpful.”

He sighs and rubs his palm back and forth across his mouth. “You’re not old enough for me to do the things I want to do to you, Finley.”

“Yeah. Right.”

Midas said something like that about me not being of age in his culture, but I did a little internet sleuthing after my sister left and couldn’t find a single place in the world where theage of maturity is twenty-three. Sure, Ancient Rome didn’t consider men adults until thirty, and there’s some evidence that the Dutch age of majority used to be twenty-three, but that was back in the fucking 1800s!

“You’re such a fucking tease. I don’t know why I keep falling for it.” I shove his chest before stepping back. “Take your omelet and get out of the kitchen. My friend’s coming over for brunch, and I don’t want to deal with your wishy-washy teasing.”

He grabs my wrist, spinning me around with such force that I slam into his chest. “It’s not teasing if I have every intention of making good on my promises. You’ll see, little flame.” His tongue skims the shell of my ear. “In twelve days, you’ll see.”

He lets go and walks off with his breakfast while I’m still shivering from that faint touch of his tongue.

Chapter 9

Finley

“No!” Sora’s incredulous voiceechoes in my nearly empty new studio where we’re sitting cross-legged on the floor surrounded by boxes. “How would that even work? You can’t tattoo it while it’s flaccid. He’d have to be hard the whole time. While being poked with a needle! That’s some serious concentration right there.”

I hadn’t thought of that, but it immediately makes me want to know exactly who gave him this tattoo and what he was thinking about when he got it. Flushed with jealousy and hating that I’m feeling envious of a tattoo artist, I rip open a box. “Let’s just finish unpacking.”

“Well, I think you’re right to stay away from him.” The sound of tape ripping across cardboard follows her words. “He clearly doesn’t know what he wants. And we both know how that turns out.”

Sora’s ex-husband was always a bit on the fence about their relationship. If they hadn’t come from such a religious background, I don’t think they would have gotten married at all. Especially not as young as they were. But their parents kept pressuring them to tie the knot so they wouldn’t“fall into sin."So they did.

And three years later, he had an affair and left her. Just like Tim and me. At least we weren’t married.

“You’re right. Cyrus is not at all what I’m looking for.” Pulling out a bath towel from the top of the box I just opened, I realize it’s not art supplies like I thought. “This shouldn’t be down here. I’m gonna take it up to my room.”

With the box balanced on my hip, I step out of the studio and walk down the hall, passing Midas’s office.

“Are you sure?” Cyrus’s voice travels through the open door. He sounds upset. “They were seen here? Not at the hatchery? Here?”

There’s silence instead of a response, so I’m guessing he’s on the phone. I almost keep walking, but then he says, “You think they want Finley?”

I stop. What is that supposed to mean? Creeping closer to the door, I listen.

Silence, then a noise that sounds like a growl.

“Double the guard around the building,” Cyrus says. “And I don’t want her leaving without two guards watching her at all times. She’s the sister of your Ra’a.”

There’s that nickname again. I heard it a couple of times at the party. Always in relation to Jess.

“Do whatever you have to do. I’ll check in tomorrow.” There’s a noise like something slamming into wood, and Cyrus curses.

Why the hell would I need a guard? If this has to do with me, I want to know what exactly I’m dealing with.

I push open the door. “Alright, what are you? Mafia or something?”

Cyrus’s eyes go as wide as saucers when I bust into the room. He looks so startled you’d think I just walked in on him naked or something. But he’s fully dressed in dark jeans and a fitted black t-shirt. Still, the way he slams his phone down, it’s clear he didn’t want me to hear any of that.

Sucks to be him, because I’m not walking away from this until he tells me what sort of shit Midas got my sister and me tied up in. “So, mafia? It would explain some things. The money. Midas’s evasiveness about what he does. All the red flags.”

“How much of that did you hear?”

“Enough to know I’m in some kind of danger. Which means Jess probably is, too. Is that why they really had to leave?”

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