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Pain.

Raw and bleeding.

And it shakes me.

Because I’ve read the legends.

I’ve studied the old lore, digging through the scraps of myth while searching for others like me. And along the way, I found things about Dragons too.

Zeke doesn’t just want a mate.

He needs her.

Without his rose, a Dragon will start to wither, slowly, painfully. Really fucking painfully. He will burn from the inside out until all that power and heat and glory turns to dust.

So no.

I don’t hit him.

Even though I want to.

Even though the taste of his words still burns like acid in my mouth.

Instead, I take a breath.

Let her scent ground me.

It’s all soft and light, wildflowers mixed with something warm and heady, and it is undeniably Arliss.

She’s clinging to my skin even when she’s not here.

And it reminds me how fucking lucky I am.

So when I speak, I keep it low. Measured. But there’s no mistaking the edge beneath it.

“I’m only gonna say this once.”

Zeke lifts a brow. Emmet tenses. Max doesn’t move, but I can feel his Alpha gaze sharpen.

“No one who came before matters.”

I glance around the room, making sure they all hear me.

“There is only Arliss.”

My voice dips into something darker, deeper, as my Bull stirs behind my ribs.

“And just FYI, my Bull is mighty protective. So I wouldn’t talk about her in any way that might be viewed as disrespectful.”

Zeke holds my stare for a beat too long, his jaw flexing. But then he looks away, and I know he heard me.

Understood me.

Maybe even respected me.

“Alright, easy,” Max interjects, and this time his voice carries that Alpha thrum, that subtle vibration that’s not quite a command but sure as hell isn't a suggestion either.

The air settles.