Page 79 of Devoted to the Dragon

Randi mewls on my lap, rocking her hips and watching as Gunnar rubs in his scent. He collapses at her feet, and seconds later, he’s snoring. I let her take what she needs, whispering praise in her ear and planting kisses on her neck until she comes for me again. When she settles, my knot deflates enough that I can pull out.

I wake Gunnar and hand her off to him before returning with towels and washcloths. I don’t get far. The two are plastered together, Randi on his chest, and both are deeply asleep. I take in the scene, some of the red haze of rut receding.

That was a heat spike, which means we’re running out of time.

By the time they’re up and showered, dinner is ready. The heat spike has lifted and so has her good mood. Dinner is mostly quiet and filled with the tart scent of her sadness and pain. By the time I’ve cleaned the dishes, she’s back in bed, asleep in the nest. Gunnar lies beside her, anxious and whimpering. I hold him, purring until he drifts into a fitful sleep.

I creep out of the bed and drive out to the isolated cabin. I need to come to terms with Knox, need to see for myself if there will be a way, because my wolf is telling me she needs all three of us.

Chapter 37

Knox

Footsteps sound on the dock, and I poke my head out of the tent, to find her older wolf. He crosses his arms, keeping enough distance that he’s out of reach from my shadows. That doesn’t mean shit; if I wanted to, I could reach him, but I’ll let him keep his delusions. I’ve certainly kept mine.

“You look like shit.” He stares at me and the sad raft, taking it all in.

I haven’t fixed the raft. I promised her I would make her a better nest, but I’ve been wallowing so far. That and I feel like death. My head is pounding, and I’m weak. I need to feed, but that’s not an option. Besides, I can’t keep anything down.

From what I’ve pieced together from the records Stef sent—which admittedly are about wolves with only one old reference to omega dragons—it’s possible that I’ve got bond sickness. She’s rejecting our connection. The link between us felt stronger when she came to visit. I could feel her in a way I hadn’t been able to before. But that link dulled the moment she left and has been replaced by a sharp stabbing pain in my chest that still throbs.

“How is she?” I ask, hoping he will at least give me that.

He skips answering, asking instead, “How much do you know about dragons?”

I’m fading, so I sit on the dock before I pass the fuck out, hanging my legs off the side. “Not much.”

“Us either.” The wolf sits on the dock, giving me a wide berth. “But unlike the wolves, omega dragons don’t awaken into their secondary gender until all their mates come together and activate the change.” He sighs, the sound as heavy as I feel, and turns to me. “It’s started. I’m guessing you started it when she was with you the other night. The magical connection between you two is strong.”

“What do you need me to do?” I ask.

His eyes are full of empathy. “I think it’s going to take all three of us to get her through her awakening, but what that looks like depends on her. We need to be ready.”

It’s not like his words are news, but they send a fresh wave of pain through my body. “Whatever she needs, I’ll do.”

He gives me the rundown of what they know about a dragon’s awakening. The handsome silver fox is nicer than I expected, but it’s clear he doesn’t trust me. He’s gruff but solid, and I can see what a good mate he must be for my little dragon.

I don’t mention the bond sickness. Why should I? It’s something I need to atone for. We’re like this because she can’t trust me, and that’s on me.

I chase him, using the last of my strength, calling before he reaches the wards. “Wait.” Grabbing what I can from the bag inside, I rush back out to him. “These will have my scent. From what I’ve learned about nesting, she might need them.”

He stuffs the pile into his truck but hesitates at the passenger door, turning back to look at me.

“You gonna be all right?” he asks in that bone-rattling voice of his. “I can send over the healer to check you out.”

“No need. I just need to feed.”

The old wolf stares at me, assessing. “What does that mean?”

“I have to feed my shadows like my human side.” It feels like a dirty secret, even though it’s simply a part of who I am. I was lonely before, but the separateness I feel here aches down to my core.

“Does it hurt?” he asks.

I grit my teeth, annoyed by the question. “No. Unless a serpent loses all control or intentionally drains someone of their energy, people don’t notice. Besides, we feed back the excess.”

He takes that in, slams the door closed, and walks back into the wards. “Feed on me.”

To say I’m shocked is an understatement. “What?”

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