Page 38 of Dragon Unhinged

“Peter’s been quite the same.” Mrs. Lee fusses over her son, combing his fair with her fingers, and fidgeting with his suit. “That is, other than a bout of sickness that he had to fight off a couple weeks ago. I do hope Brianna hasn’t suffered anything similar?”

Mrs. Lee’s concern seems genuine, even though Peter’s scowl makes me question whether he was truly sick, or if something more nefarious happened.

“Not at all.” Even if I’d been sick, there’s no way I’m announcing it to anyone. Even though all day I’ve been getting waves of nausea. Probably just due to the stress of this evening and excitement to see Declan finally. “I’m sorry you didn’t feel well.” I bat my eyelashes as cartoony as I can manage, though it fools them all still.

Peter waves me off and bats at his mother so she’ll leave him alone. “I’m fine now.” He keeps watching me, his eyes trained on me with every move I make, no matter how imperceptible I am, after training myself for years to fly under my father’s radar.

It feels entirely too close to how a predator looks stalking its prey. Declan is a dragon and I’ve never been prey to him, but Peter is a predator. I learned a lot over the years watching my father, endless wildlife documentaries that my father thought were more appropriate than cartoons. And Peter is just like my father. Maybe not as evil yet, but he wants to be. Or maybe even something worse.

Something occurs to me.

He didn’t make me feel like this the last time he was here, and I have no idea what’s changed or why, I’m pretty sure it has something to do with this mysterious sickness he suffered.

Declan, can humans be turned into anything…inhuman?

Papa ushers us into the formal dining room, and once again I’m expected to sit next to Peter. I want to run away. I want to run down to Declan and free him so we can get away from here forever. I want to stab a fork in his eye to keep him from looking at me like I’m an ice cream cone.

What do you mean, princess? Is something wrong?The concern filling my mind is nearly debilitating, overwhelming, and I grab the back of my chair tightly to try to push some ofDeclan’s emotions back again before I crumple from the weight of them.

Nothing’s wrong. I’ll tell you later. I’m sure I’m imagining it. If my father likes this guy, he could’ve always felt heartless, and I just didn’t realize until I met you.I try to project an air of calm, of love, of the level of care I have for him, to keep him from worrying any more than he already seems to be.It could also just be that I want any excuse for this dinner to be over, so that I can show you the new underwear I got. My friend, Ellie, assures me they should make you…excited.

While I get settled at the table and take a deep drink from my water glass, I fight the urge to physically or verbally react to the low, rumbling growl echoing through my mind.

“Are you all right, Brianna? You look flushed.” Mrs. Lee’s concern is now directed at me, her perfectly sculpted eyebrows furrowed toward me.

I take another sip of water, trying to block out Declan from my mind so I can get myself under control. “I’m fine. Thank you for your concern.”

Maybe opening up this connection with Declan at the dinner table wasn’t such a smart idea.

Peter’s eyes are on me still and his mouth curves into a malicious smirk. “I could walk you upstairs, if you’re not feeling well.”

“No, thank you. I’m really okay.” I run through all the cliche things I’ve heard in books and movies to try to tamp down desire, but cold showers and baseball aren’t doing a damned thing next to the rush of not only my arousal, but Declan’s feelings and arousal pumping through my body as if he’s right next to me, touching me, kissing me, whispering all the dirty things he says when we’re together.

And then he starts to project images into my head.

Declan!

What? You don’t like seeing what you look like when you come for me?

I can hear the mirth in his voice, and all I want to do is stomp down there and wipe that smile off his face.

Or put that mouth to better use.

I don’t like being so turned on I can barely focus, when I have to have dinner with my father and his idea of a suitable mate.

I think the word before I really realize the impact it could have on Declan, and the roar that echoes through my head…

Isn’t just in my head.

Peter’s head jerks to the direction where Declan is underneath us. “What was that?”

Only because I know my father so well, I can tell that he’s annoyed and he knows exactly what that was, but he gives a polite smile and says, “My son must be watching the news. These reports about shifters are getting to be a constant occurrence.” Papa lies smoothly as he stands and re-buttons his suit jacket. “I’ll just go make sure he keeps it down.”

Declan, you need to calm down. You can’t do that again.

Mine. My mate.

His voice in my head sounds disjointed, like he’s fighting to keep control of his dragon.

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