Page 54 of Burned

He looks down at himself and chuckles. “Oh. Right.”

“Oh please, no one is here to ogle your man,” Tino huffs.

“And we have a bit of a situation, so urgency is necessary,” Dempsey adds, speaking louder than my brother, like he’s not as confident that I’ll be able to hear him through the door.

“A situation?” I repeat, snatching my pants off of the floor next to the bed and stepping into them.

Alrick frowns and twists his hair into a knot. In nothing but a pair of jeans, his body is a scrapbook of our last two daystogether, healing scorch marks and love bites adorning his flesh. Just the sight of them makes me want to drag him back to bed and refresh each and every one before they can fade. But my brothers tracked me all the way to Paris, and it sounds like it wasn’t just to give me a hard time about going AWOL.

Once we’re decent, I pull open the door to find the living room of our suite has been invaded. Montrose is seated sideways in the overstuffed chair next to the couch, his legs slung over the arm while Tino stands behind it, his arms crossed and resting on the top of the chair. Hemingway and Dempsey are seated on the couch along with Arson, while Draydon stands a few feet away weighing a bronze statue in his hand. Nico leans against the back of the couch, facing us, his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. Beside him, his mate, Lake, is dressed like he just stepped off the catwalk rather than a ten-hour flight, tapping the toe of his red pumps against the marble floor and holding my cell phone in his hand.

Lake pulls his own phone out of his pocket and brings it to his ear. Less than a second later, mine buzzes in his other hand.

“Huh, look at that, itdoeswork.”

Arson slings his arm over the back of the couch and turns to face us. He drags his gaze slowly over Alrick, a lascivious smirk forming on his lips.

“But how was he supposed to answer his phone when he was knot deep in his delicious mate?”

I growl and step in front of Alrick, even though I know my brother is just trying to get my goat. My dragon doesn’t want anyone ogling my Viking, even as a joke. The satisfying thought of plucking Arson’s eyes out for the offense makes me purr.

“I’m sorry, but I’m not his mate,” Alrick says.

I growl again. The urge to drag him back into the bedroom and knot him until there’s absolutely no confusion about whathe is to me is so strong it physically hurts to resist it. I grind my teeth, and Draydon barks out a wolfish laugh.

“You smell like his mate.”

Through our bond, I can feel a twist of embarrassment and the heat of a blush rising in his cheeks.

“Not because you reek of sex,” Arson helpfully elaborates. “He means that we can all smell Lord’s fire on you.”

Alrick’s embarrassment turns into confusion. He looks at me and cocks his head.

“Do they mean your flames on my lips when we…” He darts a glance at my family out of the corner of his eye and cuts himself off.

“No, lovely.” Montrose gives him an indulgent smile like he’s talking to a small, somewhat stupid child. “We mean that we can smell Lord’s fire coursing through your veins. You might recall him breathing it into you while he knotted you within an inch of your life?”

My heart thunders and my breath comes out in fast, shallow pants. This isn’t how I was planning to tell Alrick. This isn’t how anyone should find out that they’re mated.

They all must see the bewilderment in his expression, because they exchange looks and then turn accusing glares on me. Beside me, I can feel Alrick’s mounting concern, no doubt fueled by the panic he can feel through our bond just as much as his own uncertainty about what they’re all saying.

“He didn’t…” he murmurs, looking at me. “Lord?”

My throat tightens.

“It was the only way to save your life,” I choke.

No one says a word. I can’t even hear any breathing coming from my meddling family. And Alrick simply stares at me, his expression blank in spite of the whirlwind of confused emotions picking up steam inside of him.

“But you said?—”

“I’m sorry.” I reach for him, but he pulls his hand back, his eyebrows knitting together and his forehead creasing.

“We’re… mates?” He’s still frowning as he tests the word on his tongue. Hearing him say it makes my heart leap. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why this whole lie about a healing potion and needing to get the antidote? What were we even doing in Scotland?”

“The rest of it was true. Mostly true, anyways. Your healing was helped along by the potions I gave you, although with my fire inside of you, you would have healed regardless. And we came so I could find a way to…” I glance at my brothers, then back to my mate, lowering my voice even though I know it’s useless with them all a foot away. “Sever our bond.”

Gasps and growls ring out around the room and a slice of pain lances through our bond.

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