Page 34 of Tempting Her Dragons

My lips twitch as I watch the cowboy cheetah, Elijah, joke with one of the panthers. He holds his pregnant mate close, his hand constantly gravitating to her stomach. His cowboy hat is pushed back on his head, and he smiles around the toothpick in his mouth.

My attention is constantly drawn to the white-haired vampire called Bash. Not because he is the loudest in the room—quite the opposite. He sits with his mate close to his side, his body on the verge of attacking anyone who thinks of doing her any harm. Being four-hundred-years-old and mated is a warning to anyone stupid enough to fuck with him. He earned my respect even though he wouldn’t give a shit if he knew of my thoughts.

The bear, Quinn, is dangerous. I have met some vicious bear shifters in my life. He seems loyal to the people here and the lovely mate who hasn’t let go of his hand. I think he could turn on a dime and rip someone’s head off if threatened.

I’m not scared of any of them. Some could be a worthy opponent. There is one man who stands out. He doesn’t say much and keeps to the corner, his eyes constantly moving around the room and the club. He holds a cane in his hand, but it serves a different purpose than balance. His suit is slick but hides a beast within it. I wonder why no one else is afraid of his animal. Do they not know what he is? If they did, they would be leery of keeping his company. I noticed Saphira greet him as a friend, and I held back from interfering, but was ready to move toward them at the first sign of trouble. I’m glad he seems to have a soft spot for her. His animal is deadly and presumedextinct in the shifter world. The real animal is plentiful in the human world.

I can’t wait until Mom meets Sally. They will be trouble together.

The vampires are all-powerful. We want all of them on our side.

Kingston is tense beside me, but no one else would know. He projects calmness on the outside. I have been by his side for too long not to notice his agitation. His fingers gravitate toward the rope, but he stops himself, and I wonder if Saphira has noticed. Her curiosity about it may urge him to share the story of it with her. I know he’s ready to be alone with our mate without all the noise of the club.

Saphira is walking away with Sally, intent on the bar outside of the wide archway of the room at the end of the walkway. I can’t help watching the sway of her ass. She is stunning in every way, and I want to take her home and taste her. We will go as slow as she needs, but we are hanging on by a thread.

I narrow my eyes as I see a man bending down to tie his shoe just as Saphira stops in the line to the bar beside him. I snap my lighter shut, shove it in my pocket, and launch out of my seat.

In seconds, my foot stomps down on his hand, the phone sliding out of his trapped fingers, the camera open. I crouch in front of him, my elbows balanced on my knees, his surprised cry pleasing my dragon.

“Did I mistake your intention?” I ask harshly, leaning close.

“What the fuck?” he whines. I pick up his phone and throw it behind me, knowing King is there to catch it.

“King, is there a picture of our mate on there? Perhaps snapped up her dress?” I growl, ignoring the group surrounding us.

“There is,” King says through gritted teeth. My murderous gaze locks on the fucker.

“Did you have to tie your shoe, and the camera accidentally went off?” He stays silent, his jaw grinding. “Tie your shoe,” I command.

“What?” he asks, his eyes leave mine briefly as he looks down.

“Tie your shoe,” I repeat slowly.

“My hand,” he whispers.

“Right, my bad.” I lift my foot enough so he can slide his hand away.

“Fuck, you broke my fingers.” His hands hover over his shoe; the laces are clearly double-knotted.

“Shit, sorry.” I grab his wrist and twist harshly. “I meant to break your wrist.” He bites his lip, holding his dangling hand to his chest. I reach behind him, my hand digging into his neck, and yank him close. When we are nose to nose, I ask, “Do you know what I am?”

“Yes,” he whispers. I smell the fear saturating his scent. He’s a coyote, and I could kill him in an instant.

“I could burn you to a crisp with one breath. You would be nothing but ash in seconds.” His nostrils flare, the alcohol on his breath washing over me. “I could give you the benefit of the doubt. Maybe you got drunk and did something stupid, but I don’t think so. I might be doing the owners of the club and the women in it who may have their pictures on your phone a favor by killing you.”

“Please,” he begs, his neck straining.

I tighten my hand. “My brother is going to keep your phone. You will leave the club and never fucking come back.”

“I won’t,” he swears.

“Apologize to my mate,” I demand, and he tries to pull away. “No. You don’t need to look at her to do it.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

“That was a shit apology,” I say. “Do it again.”

“I’m sorry for taking your picture,” he rushes to say.

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