Page 70 of Devoted to the Dragon

All that may be true about dragon bonds. It explains why they’re not already mated. With the wolves' magic going haywire, that makes it all the more dangerous for them—and her.But just like my fallback on snark, there’s another layer to her statement. Randi shields herself with a tough, take-no-shit attitude, but her words taste like a plea not to hurt her.

I nod. “Whatever reasons you have, thank you for coming tonight.” I jerk my head toward the lake. “Come down to the dock with me? We can talk, have dinner?”

Her eyes are sharp as she pulls a vial from her pocket. “Vandera, the witch who spelled your wards, sent me with a potion for your shadows. It’s temporary. A few hours probably, give or take. If we’re going to talk, I need to know you’re not manipulating my emotions.”

Ouch.A solid boulder lands in my gut, reminding me of her mistrust of all my kind. She believes I’m a monster.

She’s right.I chased her in those woods and claimed her. But her mistrust sparks a need in my chest to prove that if I’m a monster,I’m her monster.

I take the vial and down it in one shot. “Done.”

Her lips part in surprise.

I can already feel the loss of my serpent’s senses. Randi's energy flickers out and disappears before my eyes, the light fading. The absence of it hurts deep in my chest.

“Anything else you need to be comfortable?” I ask.I can do whatever she needs.

She shakes her head.

I hold out my hand again. Her eyes drift to my open palm, and she licks her lips.

I wait.

It’s worth it. The moment her hand touches mine, my body sings with the rightness of it. I know she feels it too because her scent spikes with little shots of orange juice, sweet and tart.

I tug her toward the lake. I’m nervous as we pass the shack and the dock comes into view. It doesn’t look like much because… it isn’t, though it’s the best I could give under the circumstances, and I’m damn proud of it. I managed to talk a pair of guards into bringing me the tents and bedding. The rest I found or made, and even the tents I modified.

It’s kind of amazing what you can do with hours of free time, internet access, and a guilty conscience.

We step onto the dock, and Randi turns to look at me. “What’s all this?”

“A floating nest,” I say, trying to sound as if I know what the fuck I’m doing. I didn’t know shit about omegas—serpents don’t have secondary genders—before the crash course I’ve taken with my brother over the last few days.

“You made me a nest for our date?” she asks, letting go of my hand and walking down the remaining dock to stare at the structure anchored to the end.

I nervously run my fingers through my hair. “I know it’s not all that pretty. I was a little limited in supplies out here. But I thought we could have dinner on the lake.”

Her lips twitch into an almost smile. She removes her heels and sets them by the glowing lanterns, then she leaps onto the float and ducks inside the tent.“Are you coming?”

Her hesitant question shakes me from my stupor. I invited her here, but I didn’t think she would come. It doesn’t help that she’s so fucking beautiful. Even without my shadows, she shines.

I hop onto the wooden raft and dip under the tent, sitting awkwardly beside her on the mattress. From the center of the tent, I’ve hung one of the gas lanterns from the shack so there’s enough light to see by. The nest is mismatched, made with clothes and borrowed blankets and pillows.

Sitting here, looking at her in the lamplight, I want to beg and apologize. I was proud of what I’d accomplished, but with her here in this space, it doesn’t feel good enough.

I made Stef dig into the records and send me what he could find about omegas. It’s a lot. More shit than I’ve read in forever, but it was helpful.

Nests were top of the list—a space to chill and relax, to feel safe and tucked in, for fucking and making mates into a family—and even though I know this isn’t her real nest, I tried to get it as close as I could with the shit I had because I wanted her comfortable. I wanted to show her I could learn to be what she needs. But this was a stupid idea. Because nothing I could build out here would be enough.Not for her.

One minute passes in stiff silence. Two. Five?

The awkwardness is physically painful. I’ve practically made pickup lines my religion, but I can’t muster any of those words.Not here.

What do I say when there’s already so much between us? How do you tell someone you just met that you’re already hopelessly in love and you don’t know what the fuck you’re doing?

Nothing I’ve ever said will be as important as the words I say right now, so none come out. I refuse to fuck this up again.

But I’m too late.

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