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I know how the guys feel about her, and quite honestly, I thought I would have a problem with it, so I’m surprised to find that it’s the opposite.

I like that they care about her like I do, and I like that she’s got them to protect her.

I am becoming more and more certain that she is going to need all of the help that she can get, there’s a churning feeling in my gut, and my dragon instincts are practically screaming at me.

I need to get this fucking control off me, she needs me, all of us, more than ever.

Having said all of that, although I was willing to have whatever time I could get with her, she always put the brakes on it.

Saying things about our mates, or in Dimitri’s case, about a supernatural that could keep up with him.

She even brought up sex, saying that we can’t have it because she’s human.

She was right, but we made sure to show her the ways that we could enjoy her without threatening her life.

I grin, biting her lip in memory of all the things that we’ve done. I am suddenly ravenous to have my lips and tongue on an entirely different part of her.

That thought that I had in the dungeon, the one that I pushed away so that Kylen doesn’t try to pull it from me, that thought tries to come forward again. I saw her, she wasn’t moving and fighting like a human, but then again, she never has.

My mind scatters as her hands weave into my hair and my hands grip her ass, but before I can throw her on the bed and taste her like I want to she pulls back.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she asks, as she wriggles to be put down, and I reluctantly let her go. Her eyes narrow slightly as she watches me. “Are you okay?”

I smile, wanting to reassure her that I’m fine, “I’m okay, don’t worry. It’s nothing that I can’t handle.”

Her eyebrow raises, she’s not stupid, and she knows me better than anyone.

Like the man I am, I decide to avoid her probing gaze by wandering around her room and seeing what I can find to distract her from her question.

My eyes quickly land on the sword that she was wielding, well enough that old Getty would have been incredibly proud of.

The cantankerous dragon sword master always did have a soft spot for Neith, although he worked her hard. He would be proud.

As I reach for the sword, Neith says, “Whoa, hang on be careful he doesn’t like . . .” she trails off.

The sword buzzes lightly in my hand, and I grin, Neith’s enchanted sword, “He doesn’t like what?”

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised,” Neith chuckles, her hands on her hips as she watches me closely, far closer than I would like her to right now.

However, my dragon is practically purring at her attention.

She continues, “He doesn’t allow anyone but the guys and me to touch him. Coen meet Asael, Asael meet Coen.”

My smile widens. I’m not going to lie, it makes me incredibly happy that Asael recognizes my connection to Neith enough that he is allowing me to hold him. I take a few practice swings, ignoring the twinges of pain from the very nearly healed wound in my stomach.

“Why are you in pain?” she asks me sharply.

My eyes snap to her face. I don’t know how I could forget just how observant she is.

I shrug, trying to brush it off, “I’m not.”

“Coen, don’t even try to lie to me,” she demands.

I love it when she gets all stern with me. I would love it more if I weren’t trying to stop her from committing a murder. Usually, I wouldn’t bother trying to stop her, but in this situation, the consequences would be too great. There are simply too many witnesses.

I shrug, “Your sword is awesome.”

Her eyes narrow, and she moves toward me.

I can’t help it, it’s clear to see how much she cares about me. The wound is moments away from completely disappearing. I only need to distract her for a small while. I place Asael back where I found him and prowl toward her, meeting her halfway.

She smirks, “Oh no. I know that look, don’t try to distract me.”

A rumble begins in my chest, and her eyes flare with heat.

I rush at her, tackling her and sending us both soaring toward the bed as I absorb our landing and make sure she doesn’t get hurt.

The laughter that explodes out of her makes my smile widen, and I can’t help but commit the sound to my memory, just in case.

As her laughter starts to subside, I kiss her again, her legs wrap around me, and her hands pull me closer. All thoughts of anything but her disappear.

Neith

“I may not be able to have you like I want to, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t taste you,” he says as he pulls back slightly, his eyes flashing with a searing heat.

My only response is a moan as he kisses me deeply before looking down at me, his eyes twinkling, “How much do you like what you're wearing?”

I frown, confused at the seemingly abrupt change in conversation, I answer him anyway and shrug, “I’m not bothered, why?”

I watch in heated fascination as he shifts one of his fingers into a claw and, with expertise, slices straight through my shirt and bra.

My nipples pebble as he pauses in his pursuit of getting me naked and spread before him, and his entire focus becomes my boobs.

My back arches as his mouth closes around one of my nipples, his tongue swirling around it before he nips gently, and my hips buck.

His weight settles above me, and my hands weave into his hair, making him growl a sound that is closer to that of his dragon than that of a man, the vibrations rumble in his chest and create a fantastic sensation, that makes my clit pulse with need.

“Fucking hell, Love,” Coen’s voice his husky with need.

I tug at his shirt, “Off.”

He nips my nipple again before releasing it with a pop and shifting so that he can look at my eyes.

“Love, if I get naked, I’m going to want to be inside you,” his eyes heat. “I’m going to want to feel your pussy clenching around me as I make you scream.” His eyes scan my face, “You’re human, Love.”

I roll my eyes, I know he said that I can’t tell him shit, but I really want to tell him that I’m not actually technically human, although I know him and he puts my safety above everything, including himself, and would tell me that unless I can say, and prove that I am unequivocally not human he won’t risk it.

Which, to be fair, is why I haven’t taken it any further with anyone, I am still technically human.

“Fine, take your shirt off,” I reply. I’m good at compromising.

He smirks, that gorgeous half smile that pulls at the scars on his face and makes me feel things that I shouldn’t.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies, as he sits up and whips it over his head, and I’m left staring at the toned and tattooed ridges and planes of his torso.

Fucking hell.