Page 4 of Dragon Rivals of New York

The growl that comes from Midas confirms that this dragon’s presence wasn’t planned. The king of the Gold Horde is already on his phone, typing out what I can only guess is a message to his guard to be on the lookout.

I text my queen the information while Cyrus and Midas whisper at the back of the limo.

The Week of the Goddess has always been a vulnerable time for hordes. I’ve heard stories of rivals trying to stop matings in order to weaken the horde. It’s also when challenges can be made to the throne. Hell, during the last Goddess Week, weattacked the Gold Horde.

“Let’s not let the possibility of an enemy ruin the night,” Jethro says, holding his glass high. “I’m sure the guard will be on it. And they’re probably just passing through. Nothing more.”

Hopefully. Years of living on scraps have made me overly cautious, and I can’t shake the feeling that it’s a bad omen.

After picking up Damian, we make it to the restaurant, and I manage to make it through dinner without killing the best man, which I’d call a success.

Now, he’s ordering us yet another round of fucking champagne and insisting we crash Finley’s bachelorette party.

“Is Finley nervous about the transformation?” Damian asks. He’s more thoughtful and empathetic than the other Gold Horde dragons I’ve met.

Especially Jethro.

In a year of peace, Jethro's never once shown remorse for what he did or any kind of empathy toward me.

I throw back the glass of scotch I ordered and signal the waiter to bring me another.

“She’s more nervous about the wedding.” Cyrus swallows back a glass of champagne like it’s a shot of vodka.

The Week of the Goddess begins the night of the wedding. Finley will become a dragon that same night.

“I would have eloped a year ago,” he says. “But she wanted the big wedding, everything perfect. It’s stressing her out so much her hair’s going gray.”

“Really?” Otto asks, his boyish face shocked.

“No.” Cyrus claps the younger man on the shoulder. “It’s a figure of speech.”

Otto’s cheeks flame bright pink. He’s a gullible kid. Takes everything literally. And always gets embarrassed about it. I silently push my untouched champagne in his direction. He gives me a thankful look and downs the social lubricant.

“Here’s to this fucking wedding being behind us.” Midas raises his glass, and I wonder what he has to be grumpy about. Then again, I’ve never seen the king of the Gold Horde smile, so maybe this is just his norm.

“Here’s to dragon mates!” Jethro adds drunkenly.

“Keep your voice down,” I growl. The asshole draws too much attention everywhere he goes. Dragons should keep a low profile, not announce themselves to the world.

“Aw, are you embarrassed?” He coos at me. Fucking idiot. “Are you worried someone willthink we’re playing a dragon role playing game?” He leans too close, his breath sweet from liquor. “Don’t worry, Ky, you’re too massive for anyone to think you’re anything but what you are, a giant asshole.”

He’s speaking quietly enough that no one else hears him, distracted with their own conversations for a moment. There’s a smile on his face, but the look in his eyes burns as we stare each other down. I don’t know what I did to deserve venom from a man who is nothing but jovial with everyone else. But I know exactly what he did to me, what he stole from me.

"What's your problem?" I ask.

"I don't have a problem. You're the one who has a problem with me. You get all growly every time I'm around. I'm just responding in turn."

I bite my lip to keep from biting his head off.

“So, are we going to crash the girl’s party?” He turns to the rest of the table, raising his voice and elbowing Cyrus. “You miss her, don’t you?”

Cyrus grins good-naturedly, not arguing. Which isn’t surprising. He and his mate are insufferable, always together, joined at the hip.

I down my second glass of Scotch. “This is supposed to be a guy’s night.”

“I want my mate.” Midas follows his growl by finishing his drink in one gulp. He’s not drinking the champagne either, opting instead for a dirty martini with extra olives.

“You’re making us jealous,” Otto says with a laugh that’s only half joking.

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