Page 48 of Devoted to the Dragon

Stef comes in blustering, carrying several bags in his shadows. His frumpy lab uniform is rumpled and askew. He stops short at the sight on my bed, his eyes the size of dinner plates. The bags drop to his sides, and his head swivels. His gaze dips to me, taking in the glow of the rune on my chest beneath my shirt and the blood splattered all over it, before flicking his eyes back to the bed.

“Which one? Is it the same one who did that to your face?” he asks incredulously, shaking his head and planting his hands on his narrow hips.

Unlike what we’ve learned about the wolves and their mates, the serpents haven’t lost their mating runes, even though it’s rare to find a fated mate. Most serpents live in large covens without them. Mating bonds are the highest law in our culture, superseding all others.

The serpent families have been at war over territory for most of history. Still, a mating bond between warring families brings an immediate truce. My mother’s mating bond with the three Rosi brothers of the Eastern Shore cemented her reign over the Western Territory a century ago.

My lips tug, thinking about my fiery mate. “The little female. She’s the dragon. The Alpha King’s lackeys hit her with a medieval-looking harpoon gun and your special dart.”

“And what is that beast?” he asks, lifting his chin. He studies her bodyguard with the gleam of an alchemist on the hunt for answers.

“I don’t know. He’s been bit by ferals, and his leg is a mess. The white-and-grey wolf was hit with a dart.”

My brother lets out another long-suffering sigh, but his lips tug at the corners. “Leave it to you to be fated for the enemy.”

“She wasn’t meant to be our enemy,” I hiss, that dominance surfacing again with the need to defend my mate. I glare at my brother. “Now, are you going to help me or bust my balls the whole time?”

“Can’t I do both?” Stef doesn’t wait for my retort, digging into his bags.

He barks orders as he sets up a home lab in the corner of my room, making shit and speaking in tongues over it when he’s finished. I don’t even try to understand what he’s doing. When he’s finished with his mad-scientist routine, he gathers glowing vials and a bowl of something that smells like piss and dirt.

I follow his lead, placing the cut dressings into the foul-smelling shit and covering the werewolves' bites while Stefadministers the potions.It takes both of us to deal with the snare and set the wolf-man’s leg. It’s not fucking pretty, and by the time we’re done, we’re drained.

“The dart I made for the wolves suppresses the beastly form. They wanted a way to subdue a large shifter and reawaken the beast side when needed.” He hands me a glowing pink vial. “This will revive her dragon. But maybe let’s wait until you know she won’t burn the manor down before you give it to her.

“The wolf should awaken in the next few hours on his own. The beast is in the worst shape. He’ll need more healing on that leg, but it’s too much for his system right now.”

I nod, but my eyes refuse to leave the small woman in my bed.

Stef packs away his things. On his way out, he gruffly pats my back. “Give it a few days, but they’re strong. They should recover. I’ll be back to check on you tomorrow.”

My knees feel weak, and there’s foreign thickness in my throat. “Thank you, Stef. I know I’ve been a selfish prick, but I appreciate what you’ve done tonight.” My mark burns hot against my chest, the shame loud and persistent.

“There is nothing to thank me for. Treating your mate is an honor.” He squeezes my shoulder and walks quietly from the room, leaving me with the consequences of my actions.

A pulsingband of blue-and-red lights flares. The band is met by sparks of deep green and bursts of warm amber. They swirl and dance, coming together and retreating in a brilliant light display. The energy between the three people in my bed throbs even though they’re asleep.

They have created an entire world in my bedroom. Our scents blend into a smokey-sage campfire laced with sprigs of cool mint and the sharp floral tart of blood oranges. It tastes like the dizzy, horny aftermath of an afternoon sucking down orange mojitos on a mountain lake. It’s the sweet slap of arousal as it drips down smooth bodies gliding together on the forest floor under a dancing sky.

It’s hedonistic. Primal. Distinctly shifter and filled with magic. I’ve never tasted anything so raw. It’s what’s left after the façade fades and instincts rule without inhibition. I’m already in love with the combination.

I’ve watched them sleep all night, mesmerized and desperately trying to suss out the subtle flavors in the strands of energy between them.Between us. Watching her with them, I realize that I won’t ever be able to rid myself of her taste or scent.She may never accept me, but it won’t be from a lack of trying.

After Stefano left, I gave her the shot to revive her dragon. Whether she slays me when she wakes is a chance I’m willing to take. Her energy continues to strengthen, as does our bond. The connections to the others, however, don’t hold. Even though they’re meant to be a tapestry, all their pieces woven together, they aren’t knitted. Strands of energy cling and grasp but slip away, only to find the others again in an endless search.

Why? Bonding would protect all three of them, and they knew they were in enemy territory.It makes no sense that they haven’t bonded, which means I’m missing something, and it must have to do with all this shit happening with the wolves.

I sigh, rubbing tired eyes with trembling hands. I’ve been using my shadows to help keep them relaxed and sleepy while they recover, but I haven’t been feeding enough to keep going at this rate. Though I can’t help but taste them when my room issaturated, I haven’t taken more than sips of their energy. It feels too intimate, and besides, they need their strength. I can deal.

My mother’s biting rattle signals in our tether, a command to join her. The pull of my mate is stronger, and I refuse to budge from the chair by my bed.

What feels like only moments later, my mother calls out as she appears in my room. “Snakelet.” She waves her hand through the smoke, a sharp cough following. “Come now. Your smoke will linger and keep them comfortable. It’s already permeated half the house.”

“I can’t?—”

She cuts me off with a steely command. “You must. Politics need to be addressed to keep her safe.”

The Lady doesn’t wait for me to obey, flitting back into the shadows.

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