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And I knew what I had to do.

Chapter Twenty

GEORGIE

I held the razor-sharp edge of my father’s dagger against Graeme’s neck. “Don’t move, dragon.”

He sat in a chair before the fire in the tower chamber, his head bent forward as I trimmed his hair. I’d finished with the top part, and I had to admit it looked pretty good. Now, Graeme’s thick, dark waves framed his handsome features instead of obscuring them.

“You should let her do your beard next,” Callum said, tossing a peanut in the air. His chair, which was one of four he’d hauled upstairs from the treasure room, tipped precariously for a second as he rocked backward and caught the nut in his mouth. The chair crashed forward, and he gave me a triumphant look. “That’s thirty-five in a row.”

“You’re distracting me,” I told him, scraping the blade down Graeme’s nape. “Also, you shouldn’t be eating those.”

“Why not?”

“They came from the treasure room, right? You have no idea how old they are. Peanuts don’t have a long shelf life.”

He popped one into his mouth and spoke around it. “They’re not from the treasure room, witchling. I found them in Graeme’s pantry when I was reconnaissancing.”

“Reconnoitering,” Graeme and I said together.

“Besides,” Callum continued as if he hadn’t heard us, “it’ll take a lot more than expired peanuts to make me sick. I’m immortal.” He caught Graeme’s eye and winked. “And I follow a high-fiber diet.”

Graeme’s nape went pink—which further confirmed my suspicions about why he and Callum had taken so long during their morning flight. They’d returned with wet hair and smiles on their faces. Graeme was far less tense than he’d been before. He’d joked with Callum as they brought furniture and extra blankets up from the treasure room. More than once, I’d seen them exchange a lingering look or touch each other just a little longer than necessary.

And it…didn’t bother me. I’d waited for a spark of jealousy, but it never came. On the contrary, seeing them so easy with each other warmed my heart—and sent heat spiraling to certain places. Throughout the day and into the evening, my mind had conjured up all sorts of steamy scenarios starring Callum and Graeme. Seeing them kiss had set me on fire. Watching Graeme take Callum’s ass had practically melted my bones. If I harbored any resentment at all about the morning, it was that I hadn’t been around to see them fuck.

Apparently, fate knew what it was doing when it matched me with two dragons. Because I wasn’t jealous.

No, I was riveted—and increasingly turned on. Something intense and sensual had been simmering among the three of us all day, and I couldn’t help but feel like it was barreling toward an explosive conclusion.

“Finished,” I announced, using a cloth to dust the hair from Graeme’s neck. I plucked a silver hand mirror from a small table (two more of Callum’s finds) and reached around Graeme’s shoulder so he could see his reflection.

His pale eyes widened. After a second, he ran a tentative hand through his crop of dark waves. His gaze met mine in the mirror. “You did a fine job, lass. I don’t recognize myself.”

“Do you like it?”

“Aye, I do.” He touched his jaw. “I’m not sure how I feel about losing the beard, though.”

“You don’t have to lose it,” I said, stepping around him and setting the mirror aside. “I can just clean it up a bit.”

He gave the dagger in my hand a wary look. “All right. Just a trim.”

I put a gentle hand under his chin and angled his head to the side. Bristly hairs fell swiftly under the blade as I drew the dagger downward. Shaping his beard was much easier than trimming his hair, and it wasn’t long before I was on my last few swipes of the blade.

“That’s a magical dagger,” Graeme murmured, eyeing it.

I nodded as I trimmed a stray hair at the corner of his mouth. “It belonged to my father.”

“So it belongs to you now.”

I stopped, my gaze colliding with his. “Um…there’s some debate about that.”

“Your father led your house, yes?”

“Yes, but—”

“And you are his heir.” Graeme nodded his chin toward the dagger. “Then that blade is yours.”