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She was a human. Of fucking course his mate was a human. It was no wonder he hadn’t found her yet in all his travels. The beautiful, tiny woman whose scent had slammed into him like a fortified castle wall looked barely old enough to drink by her government’s standards. Yet, for a long moment, as Zeno had stared at her on that sidewalk, he’d wanted nothing more than to drop to his knees and drown in her. He remembered hearing that dragons knew their mates immediately. He’d always wondered if it was a scent thing or some intuitive line-of-sight awareness, and having experienced it, he still wasn’t sure he could explain.

It was simply everything.

She was everything.

Harmony. Human, petite, cautious little Harmony. She was notably smaller than him even in his human form, though she had enough meat on her to grab hold of. Or sink his teeth into. Preferably both. She was fucking stunning. She would have been regardless of what she wore, with her wavy blonde hair and sky-blue eyes over pale, easily marred skin and all those curves. The tight dress she wore only emphasized all of that.

It was hard to think straight with her scent surrounding him, with the feel of her soft skin under his hands and the melody of her voice in his ears. But he hadn’t lived over four centuries without learning a thing or two about self-control, so Zeno managed not to succumb to his baser instincts before they even reached his penthouse. Which was not to say the feat was easy.

Their banter had helped. He genuinely wanted to know everything she would share of herself, but most critically why the stench of misplaced vermin lingered on her skin. Specifically over a bruise that had just started to form. She wouldn’t surrender her secrets so easily, however. He was conflictingly proud of her for that.

As the car rolled to a stop, Zeno asked a subtle-enough but nonetheless loaded question that brought their progress to a screeching halt.

It was a hurdle they were going to have to overcome, sooner rather than later, but that logic did nothing to soothe him as the scent of her fear skyrocketed. It overtook her confusion and any beginnings of relaxation she had developed in an instant, surging higher than it had even when he’d hauled her off the sidewalk without warning and piled her into his car. He forced himself to watch as she again retreated to the far corner of her seat, as if the extra half-foot would insulate her.

There was no use, then, in asking whether she knew of shifters in the general sense. He hadn’t had to explain his verbiage. She knew what had put that mark on her arm.

Zeno barely bit back a growl and all but ripped off his seat belt. He would track down the honey badger whose stench was associated with that bruise and burn it to ashes for touching her, for scaring her. But first he needed to know precisely what the rodent had done—just in case he needed to make it a slower death.

More importantly, he needed to make certain his mate hadn’t become so frightened that she feared all shifters as a species. That would be a rather significant problem.

He managed not to slam his door as he climbed from the car, then raced around to her side and pulled her door open. She wasn’t expecting him and let out a short squeak as she began to topple backward. Zeno caught her swiftly, leaning around her to release the seat belt and making sure it didn’t snag on her anywhere before he lifted her from the car. She was stiff in his arms, her breathing shallow. The fear held steady in her scent.

Agitated as much with himself for causing her distress as with the existence of it at all, Zeno bumped the door shut with his hip and turned toward the partially lowered driver’s window. “I’ll call if I need anything more today. Do not speak of this.”

“Of course, sir.”

Zeno twisted away from the car and strode toward the private elevator. The sooner he got Harmony tucked away where they could talk, the better. He couldn’t risk bumping into any of the building’s wayward residents, let alone any of his local associates, until he had at least assuaged the fear that almost paralyzed her. If that fucking badger was responsible for this reaction, he would make it beg for death.

He managed to angle his thumb out enough to press it onto the screen reader that unlocked the elevator, and the box was rising toward its destination before Harmony finally shifted, however slightly, in his arms. Zeno dropped his gaze to her, unsurprised to find her arms still folded over herself and her eyes still too wide.

She looked away from the steadily increasing digital display and met his stare again. “You … said you wouldn’t hurt me.”

He dragged in a breath and did his best not to growl when he spoke. “I will not, Harmony.”

The dip in her brow would have told him how little she believed him if her scent weren’t already conveying that information loud and clear. “Then what do you want with me? Why did you haul me off the street?” Tears built in her eyes and her hands shook in a tremor that worked its way through her entire body. “Are … are you going to send me back to him?”

Zeno locked his jaw to keep from roaring his fury at the tangible tang of her fear, and the sadness that underscored it.

The elevator settled on his floor and he strode out, grateful to be released from the box he hated having to use. Another awkward twist of his thumb later, and his interior door unlocked enough for him to shove inside to the main space. His penthouse was three stories tall in some areas, though he had portions of enclosed spaces on the second and third level as well. But he’d wanted something potentially large enough to at least curl up in if for any strange reason he should need it. Though height was only one factor, and with the necessary encumbrance of furniture, there was no getting around how uncomfortable it would be if he ever had to put that height to use.

The truest reason he insisted on penthouse living—at least in big cities—was, of course, for the sky access. And if he’d been in this mood for any other reason whatsoever, he would surely have already been ripping out of his clothes and stretching his wings.

This time he couldn’t. This time, no matter the freedom and release it usually provided, flight was not the solution. Not immediately.

Zeno carried his frightened human mate into the main sitting room and lowered to a knee to set her gently on the well-cushioned sofa. Letting her out of his embrace was the last thing he wanted to do, but he recognized it was necessary for the time being. His touch was unwelcome. Still, even knowing that, he couldn’t stop himself from dropping a hand to cover both of hers as their gazes clashed again. “I will say it as many times as you need to hear it, Little Dove. I mean you no harm.” He gave her hands a faint squeeze. “The vermin who left that bruise on your arm will never lay another finger on you. Not while I breathe. But I would very much like to know that story, and if that’s why you’re so frightened.”

Her breaths were shaky and her muscles tight, but Harmony made no attempt to tear from him and flee. He’d sort of expected her to, so he supposed that was a start.

Raging against his instincts, Zeno pulled his hand from her skin and took a step back, moving to claim the opposite corner of the sofa he’d set her on. There was a single cushion between them. It felt monumental, but he forced himself to hold his position.

Harmony lowered her gaze, still struggling with herself. It wasn’t until she moved her hand to rub at her bruising arm that he realized where she was looking. Quietly, she said, “You don’t seem like … them.”

Zeno scowled. “Them?” Was there a whole clan of honey badger shifters in New York and he’d somehow not noticed ? They weren’t exactly common, let alone in the Americas. He nearly snorted at himself. He wasn’t one to talk on that front.

Harmony dragged in a breath, moved both hands to curl slightly into the fabric of her distractingly tight skirt, and lifted her head to let her gaze drift out the window wall. “The gang of shifters who run the neighborhood where I grew up. You don’t seem like them.”

His scowl deepened, alarm bells ringing loud in his head.

“It’s just that I’ve … never met any others.” The tears returned to her eyes and the scent of her fear became punctuated with a trace of salt. Her lips trembled for a beat and she hurriedly wiped at her face before finally turning her tortured stare to him. “They’re bullies. Monsters, on the inside. It’s like living in another world. They demand protection money and insist everyone in the neighborhood treat them with reverence. If they show up for dinner, we give them food. If we barely have enough to feed ourselves that night, too bad, we still have to feed them. If we don’t cooperate with one of their demands…” Her voice trailed off and she folded her arms around herself.

Zeno rolled his jaw as understanding lit slowly inside him. He couldn’t stop the low growl from escaping—didn’t even think to try—until he saw Harmony’s eyes get big again.

“I-I’m sorry,” she said, ducking her gaze. “You probably don’t care. Or don’t want to hear about that.”

Zeno propelled himself forward and caught hold of her chin, tipping her head up with thumb and forefinger. He curled his other fingers into the back of the sofa to keep from hauling her bodily onto his lap. “Just the opposite, Harmony. I do care. Where you’re concerned, I care more than I can put into words. I want to hear everything. Tell me every fucking detail. Every offense, every struggle, every triumph.” He stroked his thumb over her smooth skin. “Tell me the name of the insignificant honey badger that touched you, and who his alpha is. Tell me where I can find the bastard.” He paused, sucked in a breath, and whispered, “Tell me what I can do to earn your trust.”

Harmony stared at him, shock working its way in through the fear. He watched her swallow, heard her heart slow to something closer to normal before leaping into a faster rhythm again, and waited as her lips parted. She reached up, moving slowly at first, and cautiously pressed her fingers against his wrist. She seemed to gain confidence when nothing happened and pushed his hand from her chin. He allowed it, because he’d known he shouldn’t have touched her again so soon.

Her hand immediately fell back to her lap and Harmony said, “I still don’t understand what you even want with me. How can you ask me to trust you when you do all this? How can you expect me to trust you when for all I know you just want to eat me?”

Yet another angry growl clawed at his throat. He knew damn well she didn’t mean that the way he would if he’d made the suggestion. “Are you saying that vermin—”

“He’s a violent, murdering monster,” Harmony said, her voice suddenly filled with fire. “And he isn’t even the worst of them. He’s just the one who kept sniffing after me, the one I could never get away from. So today, when my parents decided to hand me over to him like some game show prize, I finally ran. I just literally ran out the door in a panic. I don’t even know how I got away. I wouldn’t have if he’d had any of his friends with him—the wolf is fast, I’ve seen that guy move before. But today I was lucky. Today Ricky came by himself, like he really thought I’d just go along with that.” Tears spilled down her face as she paused for breath, her voice cracking. “At least, I thought I was lucky, but now here I am, grabbed up by another shifter. So, what do you want with me? Are you going to eat me? Rape me? Dissect me? All of the above?”

This time Zeno didn’t fight the growl as it rolled up his throat and vibrated past his lips. He could feel his blood heating with his anger. He understood a little better now, and that understanding was going to be a very bad thing for more than one of his shifter cousins.

He knew, vaguely, of a group of mismatched shifters who had set down roots in some small section of New York. They had banded together some decades prior and carved out a section of the city for themselves, much the way wolves form a pack and stake a territory. Since their establishment they hadn’t drawn any egregious public attention, so the larger shifter populous had let them be. For the most part, shifters as a species tended to abide by a “live and let live” philosophy whenever possible. They were as similar to each other as they were different, and most of them respected that. Zeno, for one, typically appreciated it.

Except in this instance. In this instance, his mate had been threatened, and no self-respecting dragon could let that go. Neither could he afford to make handling that situation his priority.

Willing the fire within him to settle again, Zeno released a slow, almost steam-free breath. “I will deal with that threat, Harmony,” he said. “More importantly, I want none of those things.” His lips curled despite his best efforts. “I will eviscerate anyone who ever threatens you in such a way.” He wanted to properly answer her question, but he feared she wasn’t mentally ready to hear the words. “Though I will allow you a say in the fate of your parents. After we’ve fully discussed the situation.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Allow me—” She leapt to her feet. “They’re my parents!”

Zeno nodded. “Precisely.”

“Don’t ‘precisely’ me.” She shot out a hand and snatched up one of his couch pillows, swinging it at his head without warning. She continued to smack the pillow into his head and shoulders as she shouted, “ Don’t—just—sit there—threatening—my—parents !”

Zeno finally reared back, reached around the useless weapon, and caught her flailing wrist in a just-firm-enough hold. “They bartered you off to a man who would have raped and likely slaughtered you. If you were lucky. And they did so knowingly.”

Her blue eyes sparkled with unshed tears as she glared defiantly at him. “They’re my parents .” Despite the look in her eyes, her voice cracked with her words, the pain too deep to hide.

He gave a light tug on her arm, toppling her onto his lap and causing her to lose her grip of the pillow. Then he banded an arm around her back, cupped her face in his other palm to hold her startled stare, and said roughly, “And you are my mate .”

Her wet gasp rattled his soul as she gaped up at him. Her chest heaved with a hard breath. “I’m … what?”

Zeno brushed some whisps of blonde off her forehead and let his fingers glide over her smooth, quickly reddening cheek. It took more than a little willpower not to drop his gaze down her exposed throat and see if the blush faded there, or extended down to the tantalizingly low neckline of her dress. He wanted to know—he wanted to know so many things—but he had to wait. She didn’t even trust him yet.

Making sure to hold her wide-eyed stare, Zeno gentled his tone and said, “You, Harmony, are my mate. The predestined partner I have been searching for.”

The breath rushed from her and she gave a hard shake of her head, dislodging his hand before she finally started to squirm in his hold. “No. No, I definitely am not.” She shoved free of him, stumbling several steps away this time before turning to face him again. “ Mate ? I’m not an expert on all that, but there’s no way a guy who looks like you and has resources like you obviously do would choose a poor, sheltered, fat girl with nothing to her name. Like, nothing .” She motioned down herself. “This stupid dress is worth more than I am, okay? So whatever your angle is—”

Zeno shoved to his feet and stepped into her space, planting his hands on her hips before she could run. He held her firmly in place, barely enough space between them for a heaving breath, and said lowly, “The next time you so much as imply that this scrap of fabric holds more value than you, I will tear it from your body, rip it into shreds, and set every one of those shreds on fire. One by one.” He let his grip tighten, just a little. “As for the rest of your self-image, Harmony, let me tell you how we fix all of that. If you’ve been sheltered, I will show you the world. You can explore anything and everything you desire, learn languages and trades to your heart’s content. Or you cannot, if you so choose. If my wealth is a problem for you, I’ll cast it off. No fortune in the world is more valuable than a mate. And as for your perceived difference in our looks —”

He bent down, lowering his lips to her ear, and pulled in a lungful of her scent. “When I say you look delicious and I want to eat you, I’m not talking about dinner. I mean, all I can think about is burying my face in your pussy, your thighs locked around my head, and feasting on your sweet nectar until your legs give out. I look forward to sinking my teeth into your thighs, your hips, your shoulders, and your fucking perfect breasts. Not to take a bite, but because I want you to feel the raw passion the mere sight of you rouses in me. Your body is temptation made flesh, Little Dove, and I do not intend to share.”

She was trembling again, her breathing erratic, but this time he could smell the distinct aroma of her arousal fighting with her lingering fear. The fear itself had lessened considerably. Both were good things, but the fragrance of her arousal was a distraction Zeno wasn’t sure he could handle. Perhaps he should have held his tongue somewhat.

Harmony lifted a hand and pressed against his chest, pushing hard enough to prompt him to straighten and lighten his grip. Her eyes were confused and glossy. “Why … why would you choose someone like me? You don’t even know me.”

Zeno offered her a small smile. “Our match is fate, Harmony. Our souls have been assigned to each other since we came into being.” He lifted a hand and brushed his thumb over her cheek, beneath her eye, as one of her tears attempted to leak free. “I will give you time to get to know me, and I hope to learn everything about you. But the one thing I already know—” He curved his hand behind her head, letting his fingers thread her hair as he pulled her closer. “You are the one I have been searching for, and no matter how long you ask me to wait, I will not walk away from you. From us.”

She set both hands on his shirt, her fingers curling in the fabric. “You would wait?”

“Yes.”

Harmony swallowed visibly, rolled both her lips between her teeth, and a distinct tension settled in her shoulders. As if she were bracing herself for something. “I feel kind of overwhelmed with all of this, and today in general, but … I can’t really run away from home like this.” She dropped his gaze to glance down at herself, and her expression was sheepish when she looked into his eyes again. “Could you—or do you know someone who could—come with me back to my parents’ house?” She licked her lips. “I can’t expect to get anywhere with just a dress. I don’t even have a way to call someone. But I’m afraid … I’m too scared to go back on my own.”

Zeno released a slow breath and leaned in, allowing himself to press a kiss to her forehead. She wasn’t screaming, panicking, frozen in fear, or trying to run. She wasn’t agreeing to hide away with him and bare their souls, let alone bond them, but it was still a start. Any step forward was better than where he’d been the day before. “I’ll go with you, Harmony. But I would like to know a little more about that situation first. And you still need shoes.”

She let out a bark of laughter and slumped completely against him. “Seriously, do you have a foot fetish or something?”

Warmth bloomed through him at the feeling of her voluntarily pressing against him. For as used to the various intensities of heat—inside and out—as he was, this feeling was new. And he liked it. It was hard to resettle his hands at her hips, harder still not to seek out her skin with his lips. “I have a driving need to protect you from harm. The streets of New York are hardly a place to be walking barefoot.”

Harmony tilted her head into his chest in a failed attempt to muffle her giggle, then straightened and pointed toward the window and balcony beyond. “Says the man with a massive, movie-style balcony like thirty stories in the air.”

Zeno grinned. “Wait until you see what I do with it.”