Page 8 of Love Bites Extra Hard

My clothes were inside.

Talon must’ve grabbed my bag, and put my things away for me.

The room was definitely meant for me.

His clothes weren’t in there, so the room certainly wasn’t his. Maybe mated dragons slept separately or something. It sounded ridiculous to me, considering what I’d heard from my sisters about their mates being unable and unwilling to sleep away from them. But maybe dragons were different.

Because hewasgoing to make me seal a mate bond with him.

Wasn’t he?

I dried off and got dressed quickly, pressing my towel to my bleeding wound between movements so I wouldn’t get blood on the clean clothes. I went with a pair of loose sweatpants and a bralette that covered enough of my ribs to almost count as a top. Though I didn’t want to lean on my appearance, a siren’s sex appeal was her best defense.

And a siren didn’t reallyhavean offense, so defense was usually the way to go.

I was comfortable, and also showing enough skin to help my magic if I needed to, so the outfit was the best of both worlds.

The door to my bedroom opened while I was pulling a pair of socks on. Talon had put on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He was carrying a plate of food in one of his hands, and a roll of bandages in the other.

“Whose room is this?” I asked, sitting on the edge of the nicely-made bed. I was pretty sure I knew the answer, but I didn’t want to assume.

“Yours.” He sat down next to me, setting the plate on my lap. “Eat. You’re going to need your strength.”

“Do I want to know what for?” It was the middle of the night, and he definitely wasn’t acting like he was talking about sex. What could I possibly need my strength for?

“No.” He grabbed my arm and my towel, then used the latter to carefully dry the weeping wound inside my arm. “Sorry about the cuts.”

The apology surprised me. A lot.

“Are all dragons’ scales that sharp?”

He grunted.

I didn’t push for more information. If the man wasn’t going to tell me, he wasn’t going to tell me.

I assumed it was a yes, though.

My plate was loaded with something that smelled heavenly. It had a crust on the top and bottom, and seemed like some kind of gigantic pot pie with more structure than I’d seen before. I picked up my fork and cut into it while Talon wrapped my arm.

He was doing it slowly, and precisely. The care he was taking surprised me, too.

“It’s going to heal in a few hours. It doesn’t need to be perfect,” I said, and finally took a bite.

Flavor exploded on my tongue, and I closed my eyes.

Yumm.

Talon ignored my statement, unsurprisingly. “Your socks are thin.”

“It’s colder here than it is in Mistwood. Where ishere, by the way?”

“The castle.”

My forehead creased. “I thought you lived in Dragon Manor.”

“Nope.” He finally finished with the bandage on my arm, smoothing it out carefully with his thumb before he stood up. “Clear your plate so we can go.”

“Go where?”

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