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“E-Excuse me, Mr. Darkhan … you’re smoking.”

Zeno pulled his unfocused gaze up from the mostly melted ice cubes at the bottom of his glass and forced his grip to loosen before the fragile crystal shattered. It wouldn’t do to break the damn thing.

Across from him stood a female he vaguely recognized, dressed in The Gin Room’s staff uniform, and shifting her weight anxiously. It took him another moment to process her words, as well as the thin haze of still-rising smoke between them.

Damn. Zeno willed his temper away from the edge before pushing out a smokeless breath. He set the glass onto the table next to the chair he’d claimed earlier that evening and said, “I apologize. It seems I should take myself elsewhere.” The Gin Room might have been New York’s most shifter-friendly drinking establishment, but they did have rules. Chief among them involved not letting surly dragons lose their tempers. Well… He’d tried to slip himself onto the lineup for that night’s roster, but it turned out the lineup was booked. For at least two whole goddamn weeks. So, no fight club.

Too many alpha shifters and not enough safe space to let out their aggressions.

“Oh, no, sir, I didn’t mean—”

Zeno held up a hand to silence the panicking female. “You couldn’t have kicked me out if you’d tried.” She let out a low hiss of displeasure at his words as he lifted his wallet and extracted two bills, setting them beside the cracked glass. “One for your trouble, one to replace the crystal.” With a final nod, he stepped around her and made his way to the door.

He was still tempted to detour downstairs, but watching the evening’s brawl would only make the itch under his flesh worse. Finding somewhere to safely stretch his wings might also have been a good alternative, but he had things to get done. Things that demanded he stay in the city for the time being. Little, irritating, playing-human things. That was the downside to always making sure he had an income stream.

Zeno tilted his head back as he stepped outside and narrowed his eyes up to the sky. It was late, and New York City was not known for its fresh, clean air. But with his vision he could see enough. Even with the city’s built-up skyline, there was plenty of space for a dragon to fly. If only he could do so without risking another age of dragon hunts.

There was a reason his kind of shifters were so scattered.

He ground his teeth and continued forward. Nearly four hundred years of searching, and still he hadn’t found his fabled mate. He feared sometimes that the century he’d blown off being young and foolish had cost him his future. It made no sense why any dragon wouldn’t be scouring the earth for their destined partner. Nearly all shifters were driven by the need to find and possess their mate. Yet still, his continued to elude him.

Spotting his frustratingly grounded transportation, Zeno moved up to the curb and the sleek black car as two young human females rounded the corner ahead. The stench of mixed alcohol wafted around them, thickening with their overly vociferous laughter. Zeno would have been content pretending not to notice them, if not for the way they stumbled to a stop and shouted toward him.

“Hey, Sexy Daddy!” Her words were too loud and slurred badly enough that he had to consciously decipher them. Which made it worse.

Zeno let the fire build up his throat just to feel the burn of it, then pushed it back down. He turned only partially, kept one hand on the door and narrowed his eyes at the pair. One wore full-length pants that might have been painted on and likely didn’t cover the crack of her ass—certainly didn’t hide the strap of her thong. The other wore a glittery miniskirt and outrageous heels. Both wore tops designed to emphasize their breasts. No one else had joined them while his back had been turned, and somehow, their glaring vulnerability only agitated Zeno more. “I am not your daddy,” he said sharply. “And you wouldn’t like me if I were.”

The girls broke into giggling fits, leaning into each other to stay upright. The brunette turned her head as if to whisper to her friend, but he didn’t need his heightened hearing to hear every word. “What a fox !”

Zeno rolled his jaw.

The other girl, who was apparently the one who’d first called to him, grinned wider. “A silver fox!”

Zeno turned his back and pulled the door the rest of the way open. He wasn’t going to babysit these irksome children.

“He needs a little more silver for that, I think,” the brunette said, her slurred words carrying in his wake as he ducked into the car. “Hey! Wait!”

“Daddy fox!”

Zeno slammed the door shut, and for good measure, pressed the lock button. “Drive.” Maybe he’d clean up his business situation and put New York behind him for good this time. Maybe the pull he’d felt for this city for the past several decades that had compelled him to keep coming back had been some kind of universal misdirection, a siren song dragging him off course. He leaned back in his seat as the vehicle eased into traffic. That was a thought.

“Home, Mr. Darkhan?” the beta in his driver’s seat asked quietly.

“Yes.” For now.

****

Harmony bit her lips as frustration mounted inside her. How was a person supposed to get a job when so-called entry-level positions required multiple years’ worth of relevant experience? Do they not understand what they’re asking? She jerked the mouse to the side, clicking out of yet another briefly promising option and returning to the list. The imperfect, depressingly small list.

She almost didn’t hear her mother’s shuffling approach in time to close out of the site and pull up the news article she’d left open in another tab.

“Harmony, that’s enough screen time for now.”

Harmony dropped her gaze to the digital clock in the corner and barely kept her expression calm. It was a miracle she’d ever managed to graduate, regardless of how many years the process had taken. “I was in the middle of reading something, can’t I—”

Linda clicked her tongue, rounded the desk, and reached over Harmony’s shoulder. As her finger descended on the button that would shut off the monitor, she said, “You know the rule, Harmony. I gave you an extra thirty minutes since I was busy, but we can’t have you poisoning your mind with all the nonsense on the Internet.” She pulled firmly on the wheeled chair, dragging until Harmony was awkwardly stretched away from the desk entirely, and spun her to the side. “Now stand up, stretch, and get some lemonade. Oh, and go freshen up. We have company coming.”

Anxiety twisted in Harmony’s stomach as she stood and stepped away from the desk obligingly. She brushed a wayward strand of dusty blonde out of her face and frowned at her mother. “Company?” She certainly didn’t have the kind of friends who would just drop by. As far as she knew, neither did her parents.

Linda made a shooing motion at her. “Don’t dawdle, sweetheart. Splash some water on your face so you don’t look like you’ve been staring at a screen all afternoon.”

The agitation returned in a huff and Harmony twisted away to stomp from the room. All afternoon? Has she lost it? Ninety minutes hardly counted as an entire afternoon. She was never going to find a job if she couldn’t get some real time on the freaking computer.

“Harmony!” her father shouted from the direction of the kitchen. “Don’t stomp! It’s unladylike.”

She let herself roll her eyes since neither of her parents could see her. Why did she care if stomping was unattractive in a woman? Everything she did was unattractive, apparently, up to and including the way she brushed her hair and the way she ate. She was pretty sure her mother meant the fact that she ate in the presence of others at all, but that wasn’t what she’d said.

Her parents controlled every aspect of her life to an unreasonable degree. As a child, Harmony hadn’t realized it was strange. She’d been homeschooled in her early years, until the economy and some poor financial choices had forced her mother to get a more traditional job. The strictness had increased when she’d started attending public schools. As the world opened up—the rapid spread of cell phones, and of course the surge of social media—Harmony found herself more locked down.

Sure, she had a cell phone, currently locked in a drawer in her mother’s desk, because she was only allowed to have it when she was home alone or when she needed to leave the house without them. But it was limited. They’d even found a way to restrict text messages. She had no online presence at all. It hadn’t been until one of her on-campus college days—in itself a veritable crime she continued to await punishment for with nervous anticipation—when she’d finally learned what Facebook looked like. She still didn’t understand the concept too well.

She was a twenty-four-year-old woman in the modern age on paper only. She’d failed to escape when she’d turned eighteen, because at the time she had thought merely leaving the house and their shitty neighborhood was enough. She’d made the mistake of thinking her parents would let her be free. That hadn’t even lasted a year.

Harmony frowned at the pretty dress laid out on her bed. Freshen up, huh? This was more than splashing a little water on her face. There wasn’t anything wrong with her comfortable jeans and the respectable, plain shirt she’d put on that morning. After all, the most choice she had on her wardrobe was which day to wear which piece of clothing she hadn’t purchased for herself. That was usually the case anyway. Apparently, their expected guest was someone her mother wanted to impress, because this was not a casual around-the-house dress.

For a moment, Harmony was tempted to ignore it. But she knew how that would go, and she was taking enough of a risk just searching for a job behind their backs. She would inevitably catch hell when it all came out, but if she was lucky, she’d have some cash tucked away by then. In the meantime, she needed to not pick unnecessary fights. So she stripped out of her casual and arguably boring clothes, found a bra that would look a little less conspicuous with the dress strappings, and set to work squeezing herself into everything.

She was still standing in front of her bathroom mirror, smoothing out wrinkles and double-checking that she’d attached the right straps to the right hooks, when her mother hollered down the hall. Their guest had arrived. Her stomach rolled.

The dress was uncharacteristically alluring for something her parents might choose. It wasn’t scandalous, per se, but it wasn’t neck-to-ankles modest either. She liked it, objectively, but she was quickly becoming concerned over what it meant. Loose, breezy short sleeves disguised her thicker upper arms. Lace between straps teased actual bare skin over her sides, so much so that she’d had to change panties, too. The collar was low and flirty, enough to show just a bit of the swell of her breasts and the top of her cleavage. And while the skirt itself hung past her knees, most of the dress was tight. Fitted. Her boobs were practically pushed out and somehow her belly looked flatter than usual, while her hips seemed wider.

Honestly, the more she looked at her reflection, the more she questioned whether her parents had actually laid it out for her. It might have been easier to believe someone had snuck in and left it as a trap.

“Harmony Lace, what is taking you so long?” her mother demanded, barging into the bathroom without knocking. She came up short and her eyes blew wide as she raked her gaze over Harmony’s figure.

Harmony turned from the mirror and gestured to herself. “Did you really put this out for me? It’s … not like you.” Her mother had never even encouraged her to wear something that qualified as sexy, let alone prompted it.

Linda drew a visible breath and nodded once. Her signature of approval.

Oh, crud. She did. Why did that make it scarier?

“It’s a special occasion,” Linda said, quieter. Something in her eyes was almost wistful. “I’m glad it fits. I was worried.”

Harmony folded her arms across her chest. “I’m sorry my weight disappoints you.”

Her mother gave a shake of her head and turned from the room. “Let’s go. We’re making him wait.”

The breath rushed from Harmony’s lungs. “Him?” What the hell is going on?

“Now, Harmony,” her mother said, putting the warning snap in her tone that always got a response.

Harmony jolted into motion even as her nerves amped up. Her mother had dressed her up to meet a special guest, who was a male she also refused to identify. That did not bode well at all. She wanted to spin on her heel and run the other way, but the other way would only trap her. If she wanted out, she had to continue forward. One way or another.

“So sorry to keep you waiting!” Linda called as they neared the end of the hall. Her voice had switched flawlessly to the fake warm, overly saccharine tone she used when she was sucking up.

Harmony’s nerves intensified and she swallowed hard. There weren’t a lot of people her mother sucked up to. Her feet slowed, but she was still close enough to hear the voice she didn’t want to hear.

Patrick Eades, who preferred to go by Ricky, said smoothly, “It’ll be more than worth it, if you brought what you’ve promised.”

Chills broke out over her skin and the room spun even as Harmony found herself standing at the edge of the sitting space, the hall suddenly behind her. What did he just say?

Ricky’s permanently leering brown eyes locked on her and his lips lifted in an expression that made her want to hurl. “Well. Not only did you follow through, but it seems you’ve even wrapped her up for me.” He held out a hand. “Come closer, Harmony. Let me drink you in.”

Finally, her feet had stopped moving, locking her in place. Harmony felt as though she could barely breathe. “Wh-what…?”

Her father sidestepped up to her and pressed the tips of his faintly shaking fingers to her back. “Come on, now, Harmony. Let’s not keep Mr. Eades waiting.”

She was unprepared for the strength behind his touch when he proceeded to push and she stumbled forward.

Ricky snatched her nearest arm as soon as it was within reach, hauling her upright and leaning in until he was close enough that she was forced to smell him. She always had found it ironic that he stank as badly as he did, when he was supposed to be the one with the sensitive nose. “You look fucking delicious , Harmony.” He licked his lips. “I’ve been waiting a long time for you.”

Was it possible for an entire body to cringe? Because hers did. She recoiled as much as his grip would allow. “Let go of me.”

“Harmony,” her mother admonished. “You’re going with Mr. Eades and you’re going to do everything he asks of you, do you understand?”

Horror washed over her and she craned her neck to gape at her mother. Until Ricky crooked a finger around her chin and guided her focus back to him. He’d moved closer to her, so close their bodies were almost touching. He was only an inch taller than her five-foot-five, so it wasn’t hard for him to hold her stare in a physical sense. He certainly didn’t have to tilt her head back or hold her at a weird angle. If it weren’t for the strength in his stocky body, he wouldn’t have been that imposing at all.

“You’re going to come with me, Harmony Lace,” he said, speaking in a low tone. He adjusted his grip on her arm to run his thumb along her wrist. “I’ve got a space all ready for us.” His gaze dropped from hers, his head tilting to the side as he eyed her body again. “Today, I finally claim your tight little virgin cunt.”

Harmony held her breath, doing her level best not to say anything stupid. She knew what he was. He wasn’t just a pig. He was a monster, through and through. He was stronger than her, faster than her, and with his hands on her, there was not a damn thing she could do to fight him off. She knew that.

Everyone who lived in their neighborhood did. Ricky ran with the monster gang that treated the rest of them like poor, backwater peasants paying some sort of convoluted protection tax. Except the protection they were paying for was protection from the very shape-shifting monsters who were threatening them. And Ricky was one of the worst.

She knew, but she did not understand why, even after the terrible thing he’d just said, her parents remained silent. Compliant. Not until she remembered what they’d said moments earlier and reality slammed into her.

The breath she’d been holding finally rushed out on a long, hard gasp as a single, traitorous tear rolled down her cheek. They sold me off.

Ricky’s smirk broadened and he leaned closer. His tongue pressed against her cheek, dragging up, tracing the line of her tear as he rumbled with a perverse chuckle.

Her stomach rolled and her heart clenched as ice settled in her veins. Still, her parents remained as statues. The same parents that had treated her like a doll to be sheltered and kept from all forms of contact up to this point. It was too much.

Filled with a sudden surge of fury and devastating heartbreak, Harmony ripped her arm from Ricky’s loosened grasp and shoved him away from her with all her might. She let out the loudest shriek of pain and rage she was capable of, needing to release the feelings churning in her chest, and when he stumbled back, she didn’t hesitate. She didn’t stop to consider the dress she was wearing or the flimsy house slippers adorning her feet. She didn’t stop to retrieve her phone. She just ran, making a beeline straight for the front door that hadn’t even been properly closed.

“Harmony, wait!”

“Harmony Lace, get back here!”

Even if she’d been tempted to look back, Ricky’s roar of outrage would have convinced her otherwise. She didn’t understand what had happened, not fully, but she knew one thing for certain.

She couldn’t let the monster catch her.