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Zeno had not been exaggerating.

After waking up more comfortable than she could ever remember, Zeno’s strong arms curled possessively around her. They had climbed from bed and made their way down to the main floor, where she had watched her dragon-shifting lover, still shirtless, prepare a mouthwatering feast of eggs, bacon, potatoes, and lightly toasted bagels for breakfast. She felt as though she’d eaten like a queen. He’d heaped food onto her plate and not made a single expression or uttered an off-word as she ate. That in itself was a dream.

Then he’d hauled her up onto the kitchen island, stepped between her legs, and buried his face in her pussy. Harmony was sure she would die of bliss before she ever made it to a shopping mall. She wasn’t so sure that was a bad thing. When the orgasm crested over her she didn’t even think not to scream, or undulate against his face.

Seconds passed before Zeno stood again, neither of them breathing properly, and his face shinier than normal. “Thank you for breakfast, Little Dove.”

She scoffed, too breathless to truly laugh, and sank down onto the island. It was large enough that only her head dangled over the edge. “No fair. You got two breakfasts.”

He chuckled as his body heat moved away and she heard the faucet turn on. “If you’re implying you’d like a second, I can help you with that. But I’d feel better if we moved somewhere you’d be more comfortable.”

Her face turned red as she remembered the sensation of her mouth being stuffed full of him. It ought to have been awkward, and certainly not something someone should crave, but she was definitely willing to do it again. She wanted to see if she could do better, if she could take all of him properly.

She nearly missed his low grunt of displeasure as the water turned off.

Drawing herself out of her inappropriately wandering thoughts, Harmony forced herself to sit up as Zeno turned toward her again. “What’s—”

He held a finger to his lips, a wet washcloth dangling from his hand, and his phone to his ear. “I would offer ‘good morning,’ but it’s not like you to call for no reason.” He tapped the screen and set the device beside her, pressed a finger against her mouth as if to re-emphasize her need for silence, then promptly dropped down and brought the cloth up between her legs.

Harmony sucked her lips between her teeth to keep from making a sound at the sudden sensation.

An unfamiliar, faintly filtered male voice spoke through the phone’s speaker, both working to distract her and make her mildly uncomfortable. The latter mostly with herself when she realized she wasn’t as bothered with having Zeno where he was while the phone line was open as she should have been. At least, not until the man’s words fully penetrated. “I wish I was calling under better circumstances, but this phone call is a courtesy I’m really hoping you don’t make me regret.”

He paused just for a moment, but long enough for Harmony’s brow to pinch. It almost sounded like he was agitated, or trying to offer a warning. Not that she knew the man with the gruff, older-sounding voice. So she listened and tried not to think about the steady movement of cloth at her center.

“In about two minutes, two of my people are going to be at your door,” the man continued. “I need you not to roast them. More importantly, I need you to cooperate so we can all get on with our lives.”

Harmony glanced down at Zeno as he pulled away, carefully folded the towel, and wiped what she sincerely hoped was the clean side quickly across his face. She wanted to ask what in the world the stern man on the phone was talking about, but she also didn’t want to make herself known to that man.

Zeno tossed the towel in the direction of the sink as he stood. “Care to tell me why you’re sending a team to my personal residence first thing in the morning, Scott?” He scooped Harmony up off the counter and set her gently down on her feet without making a sound.

The man Zeno had addressed as Scott let out something like a sigh. “They’re in the elevator, Darkhan. Officially, I must be recused from the case due to our association.”

Zeno growled. “And unofficially?” He snatched up his phone, lifted Harmony by the waist, and propelled them at a breath-stealing speed across the open space until they were up the first flight of stairs.

Scott’s words trailed in their wake. “Unofficially is why I called.”

Zeno shoved the phone into a pocket as he set Harmony down in a room on the second floor she hadn’t seen yet—which was most of them, if she was honest with herself. The room he’d taken her to was obviously for laundry.

She glanced at his empty hand, assumed the call had ended, and looked up at him. “What’s going on?”

“We’re about to have guests, Little Dove,” Zeno said, his jaw tight with obvious displeasure. He brushed his fingers over her face, pressed a kiss to her forehead, and indicated the machines. “Your panties are in the dryer. Grab them, then hurry upstairs and put on the shorts I set out for you last night. I can’t have you parading around in front of others without clothes.”

Harmony opened her mouth. Closed it. Blinked once. “My panties.”

A brief flash of wicked amusement tipped his lips. “I needed information.” He gave her a gentle but distinct nudge. “There’s no time to explain, unfortunately. We have to deal with this first.”

Harmony pouted, but she remembered Scott saying their unannounced guests were already on their way up. “I still have so many questions. Who are these people that you seem worried?” It took her a moment to figure out which one was the drier. His machines were so much nicer than the ones from the laundromat she was used to.

Zeno was already striding for the door. “The government.”

Harmony nearly fell face-first onto the machine she’d been leaning toward. The government ? That was not an answer! Why would any government group be pursuing Zeno? She managed to pull her nice, freshly cleaned panties from the machine, untwisted them, and was stepping into them when someone pounded on the door downstairs.

Her heart jumped into her throat.

Zeno had seemed familiar with the man named Scott, but it was clear he hadn’t been prepared for this. Whatever this was. Did that mean he was in trouble? Was it possible he was going to be forced away? What would she do if he had to leave the country entirely? It wasn’t like she had a passport.

Harmony waited until she was sure Zeno was downstairs again, more or less a barrier between her and the government people who felt like invaders, before slipping from the laundry room to scamper upstairs. The shorts he’d directed her to put on had fallen to the floor while they’d slept, but she had a general idea where they were.

The tones of multiple voices barely carried to her, but it was enough for her to know Zeno had opened the door. Something inside her insisted that making contact had started some sort of clock. Whatever was going to happen, the countdown had begun.

All she could do was rush into the shorts Zeno had kindly set back on the bed and hurry—carefully—back down the stairs. She moved as fast as she could, but her mind had plenty of time to panic. Plenty of time to imagine so many ways she was about to be walking into a nightmare.

Did shifters have some kind of Visa system and Zeno’s had expired? Was this because he’d flown her like three blocks in a public space the day before? Had one of her neighbors seen him shooting fire at Ricky and this was their way of earning Ricky’s favor?

Maybe it had nothing to do with her or him being a shifter. She had to consider that, despite all they had talked through before, it would be a long time before she knew everything about him. Perhaps he had debts, or some kind of warrant, and collecting on those was a more intricate system for men like him. She didn’t know much about that kind of thing, outside of how it was portrayed in the movies her father sometimes watched.

None of it made sense, but Harmony had convinced herself this government group had come to deliver the ultimatum of him leaving the country or being chained in some unnamed dungeon by the time she made it to the main floor. Her heart beat wildly and she wanted to simultaneously launch into a rage at the people who’d violated their safe space and just curl up and cry over a loss that hadn’t technically happened yet.

She was both relieved and concerned to discover Zeno had not let their intruders past the entryway. He stood with his bare back to the open space of his own home, arms at his sides, facing the people whose profiles she could barely see and therefore barring their path. From her angle, it looked like they’d brought some kind of large package or suitcase with them, which was set on the floor.

“I understand you have to investigate those claims,” Zeno said, his voice firm, “but considering my history with the SRA, I would have expected a bit more consideration.”

Harmony frowned, slowing her pace in the hopes she could glean information before she was spotted. Was she supposed to stay out of sight? Zeno probably would prefer that. But she couldn’t, not for this. She just wished she knew what the hell the SRA was.

Someone scoffed and a male voice snapped, “Given your history with us, we would have expected you to know better than to abduct a human girl.”

Harmony faltered at the same time as Zeno’s low growl rumbled through the room.

“As I told you, I have abducted no one.”

The person Harmony had gotten the better glimpse of when she’d made her descent shifted his weight and asked, “Is that why she looks like she’s trying to sneak by behind your back, with a giant bruise on her arm? Because she wasn’t abducted?”

A strange combination of embarrassment, shame, and anger rushed through her all at once, heating her blood and her skin, and Harmony squared her shoulders. She heard Zeno start to speak, but she talked over him. “Maybe I just didn’t want to be seen by a couple of judgmental strangers who decided to barge in while I was improperly dressed.” She stomped up, her bare feet slapping on the hardwood, until Zeno’s hand turned outward as if to stop her from continuing forward. Though she’d never planned to walk past him in the first place. She only wanted line-of-sight for when she gave a piece of her mind to these two and whatever badge they carried. “Are you really accusing Zeno of kidnapping me? Do I look kidnapped?”

The leaner of the two, the one Harmony hadn’t seen as well, raked a briefly critical gaze over her before staring her straight in the eyes. “You look distressed. Vulnerable. Taking advantage of a young woman like you would be easy for someone like him.”

Zeno made a low rumbling sound that felt like a warning. “Harmony is in no danger from me. She can leave at any time of her choosing.”

The other male released a tired exhale. “Miss Lace,” he said, “if it’s true you’re free to leave, then help Mr. Darkhan’s claim and agree to come with us back to the office.”

Harmony felt her brows leap up her forehead. “Excuse me? So, God forbid Zeno take me against my will, but it’s perfectly okay for the two of you to blackmail me into going who-the-heck-knows-where? In case you didn’t realize, blackmailing someone to come with you is basically kidnapping them.”

The leaner male grunted and cut a glare up at Zeno. “If we find out you coached her—”

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” Harmony exclaimed, her exasperation bursting from her. “The only thing my parents probably did right was teach me not to just go off with every stranger who asked me to come along with them. Why does that have to be Zeno’s fault?”

“I think you’re misunderstanding this situation,” the tired one said. He raised a hand as if to pacify her. “We aren’t attempting to kidnap you, Miss Lace. You’ve been reported as abducted by a dragon-type shifter matching Zeno Darkhan’s description. We need to have a conversation with you, apart from Mr. Darkhan, to get your side of the story.”

Harmony folded her arms across her chest. “We can do that here. Zeno has an office he can lend us. He’ll sit in another room.” It wasn’t like she’d asked and she was certain none of the quicker options appealed to him, but of all the ones that felt like compromise, this was the angle she was willing to abide by. For one thing, she was decently covered, not dressed for going out in public.

“For a lot of reasons, that wouldn’t work,” the same man said, as if explaining a problem to a whining child.

“And you see no problem with attempting to force her to go with you?” Zeno challenged. His tone was hard and even, like steel.

Both unnamed men looked up at him for a beat, and again the leaner one with the attitude spoke first, directing his words back to her. “Tell us about that bruise.”

Harmony narrowed her eyes at him. “That’s a long and personal story. Tell me who reported me as kidnapped.”

“Not here.”

“Then maybe you’re just full of lies,” she snapped. “Zeno said you were some kind of government group, but you haven’t even identified yourselves and you’re trying to drag me out of here obviously against my will. Or what, do you think I’m so fabulous an actress that my attitude is a bluff?”

For the first time, both men looked, if only briefly, taken aback.

In their moment of seeming shock, Zeno said, “You are welcome to use my home, as Harmony has offered, but make no mistake. The moment you lay a finger on her with the intent to force her to your will, I will become hostile.” He motioned to the items on the floor, drawing Harmony’s attention to them for the first time. “And I expect to receive those back in pristine condition, or a full financial reimbursement. As you can see, Harmony needs clothing. Those are for her.”

Her arms fell to her sides as she struggled not to gape. There were two bags, both clearly full, bearing recognizable logos the likes of which she had never imagined touching. The bags were banded shut and had been wrapped together in a thin layer of bubble wrap, making the set appear from a distance like a singular large package. For a moment, as she stared, she felt confused.

Then she remembered the perplexing thing he’d said in the laundry room upstairs and understanding slammed into her, as well as another rush of embarrassment. Harmony dragged in a breath and craned her neck to look up at him. “Did you—”

He met her gaze, and though his lips remained firmly anchored in a frown, his eyes warmed. “Anything I got wrong can be returned or donated. It’s just to get you started.”

“Started on what?” the leaner man, who stood closest to the bags that apparently were meant for her, said. “The new life you plan to whisk her off to?”

Harmony turned her frown outward once more. “What is the matter with you? Is this what you do, barge into people’s homes and bully them into cowing to you? Because trust me, Nameless Fake Government Guy, I have had it up to here ”—she raised her hand as high as she could reach and still keep her palm flat—“with that antiquated, bullying bullshit.” She drew a breath to say more, but the other one spoke up again.

“I do apologize for our oversight, Miss Lace,” he said. “This is Agent Ryland, I’m Agent Muller. We’re with the SRA.”

As he dipped his hand into a pocket, Harmony planted hers on her hips and said pointedly, “What’s that, the Scoundrels Ravaging America?”

The one identified as Ryland actually balked, his dark brows arching high on his forehead.

Muller pulled out a wallet-like badge, reminiscent of every FBI ID she’d seen on television, and held it out and open for her inspection. He repeated the words even as her eyes read them, her brain not processing. “The Shifter Relations Agency,” he said.

Harmony stared until he pulled the thing she had no way of authenticating away, her mind spinning. “The what?” Shifter Relations… She could only think of two ways that could be interpreted, and in one of those ways, she failed to understand their issue with her under Zeno’s roof. But the other made even less sense.

Ryland blew out a breath. “It’s our job to make sure the shifters don’t abuse their strength, in a nutshell. Keep them from turning cities into cage fights, keep them from abducting innocent humans, all that.” He mostly glared at Zeno while he spoke.

“Yes,” Zeno said, “and I was hoping to have a word soon with your boss about what a fine job you’ve been doing.”

Harmony reached out, feeling suddenly unsteady, and grabbed hold of his arm. He was still shirtless—the hypocrite—so she couldn’t latch onto any fabric, just his skin. But it was more than enough to get his attention, though she didn’t wait for him to speak before she sought out his gaze. “Is that true? Is that … what they do?”

His brow furrowed and he inclined his head. “That is what they’re supposed to do, yes.”

“We are sanctioned by the federal government,” Muller said. “Our agency is smaller and less publicly forward than some others, but our authority is no less—”

Harmony spun forward, managing to do so in a way that edged her body closer to Zeno’s warmth, and when she spoke over the man, she did so at a shout. “Well, you suck!” Tears burned her eyes and she raised her bruised arm. “For my entire life, my family and everyone else in the whole damn neighborhood— neigh-bor-hood , not street—has been terrorized by some ragtag group of shifters drunk on their own stupid power. My parents pay protection tax and buy groceries for a honey badger that lives three houses down from us. There’s a wolf who patrols at night to make sure we all adhere to a curfew. And that honey badger? He’s been harassing and molesting me since I hit puberty.” She waved her arm almost violently, nearly smacking Muller in the face. “ He did this, most of it. Yesterday, when my parents decided to dress me up like some hooker and shove me at him. My body was supposed to be a gift , and the only way I got out of it was sheer dumb luck. I ran away, and I ran into Zeno. Zeno saved me. You want to round up shifters who hurt people? Start with Patrick fucking Eades.”