I slowly exhaled. Focus. Focus. “I’m not going to let go—not until you’re ready. Start by stretching out your wings as far as possible.”
She did, her white wings catching the city light’s below. I raised my free hand and stroked one of the feathers under the guise of bringing her attention to them. But I couldn’t resist touching her wings—so supple compared to mine. “Now, feel the wind flowing along the length of them. Wind is your friend. It’ll keep you from dropping like a stone when I let go.” I paused. “Do you feel it?”
At her nod, I flapped higher.
“Still feeling it? Good. Because I’m letting go now.” I lowered my arms and hers wrapped tighter, strangling me once again. “Flap your wings,” I raised my voice over the rushing wind. After a few test flaps, she loosened her grip. “You’ve got this. You can let go.”
And she did.
For a heart-stopping second, she dropped. I tucked my wings, prepared to catch her, but her wings caught a draft, lifting her higher.
She whooped in delight, circling me, and my stomach flipped.
Because for a moment, she looked Fae.
Fae or not, she was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.
—
I couldn’t get that night under the stars out of my head.
Even two mornings later as I lounged on her plush sofa, watching a ridiculous TV show about a couple who couldn’t communicate to save their lives. Those accents. Cringe-door frameworthy. Who spoke like that? It was better than watching the local news channel laden with typical shifter propaganda, though.
After the flying lesson, everything naturally clicked into place for Reagan. She could retract her wings and shift into lion form at will, interchanging the two when needed. Every time she allowed the wings free while still in human form, my heart stopped, then sped up too fast, stealing my breath.
Any minute now she’d return from patrol. I pushed on the remote control again, trying in vain to change the channel. Or turn it off. If she caught me watching this garbage—
“Hold still, Tarik. I want to remember this image forever.” Laughter filled the room behind me.
My legs jerked, but I managed to stay seated, even as heat crawled up my neck. I played it cool, not daring to turn around. “Are these characters supposed to mimic real life?”
She continued to snicker as she said, “No, they amp up the drama. After a few seasons, you’ll be able to call every plot twist.”
“What a waste of time,” I muttered, dropping the remote beside me. “So.” I swiveled to face her naked form, knowing I would never get used to her casual morning entrances. “Can you make some bacon?”
“In a few. Alec’s on his way over. I saw his dragon as I dropped in.” She made a shooing gesture. “Go to my room, lock the door, and promise me you’ll stay in there. Please?”
I stood, crossing my arms. “Only if he behaves. Because if he crosses any lines, all bets are off.”
“I’ll be fine. Shoo, go.”
Turning on my heel, I made for the hallway, then quickly backtracked with one of her discarded sweaters. I liked this one because it covered her to mid thigh. When she didn’t take it, I said, “I don’t want him seeing you like that.” As her eyes rolled upward, I fitted the sweater’s neck over her head myself. She grumbled but stuck her arms through and pulled the material down.
I nodded, satisfied, then jogged to her room, locking the door behind me. But I wouldn’t sit back while the fool dragon shifter strutted around Reagan’s apartment. I pressed my ear to the door, not caring in the least that I was eavesdropping.
A boom sounded directly outside, then a squeal as the sliding door opened.
“Hey, babe, you’re looking particularly delicious this morning.”
I hissed softly. That cocky piece of—
A snort. “Get out of my apartment, Alec.”
“Is that any way to greet your favorite dragon?” he crooned, and I clenched my teeth.
“I’m not particularly fond of either of you.”
A pause. “So what father said was true, then. You shifted on him.”
“And if I did?”
“I mean, I’ve never really seen you as the take-control type. It’s honestly kind of hot.” I heard heavy footfalls as he made his way toward the kitchen.
Their voices lowered then, as if the tension had grown. I strained to pick up Reagan’s next words.
“Alec, I am not in the mood.”
“You’re never in the mood.” Something about that statement—as if he’d said the words dozens of times before and his patience was wearing thin—raised the hair on my arms.
“Get out.” Muffled sounds—like furniture being knocked into—broke the silence, and then, “Alec, I’m warning you. I will cut your manhood off.”
“Your apartment smells like dirty Fae.” A pause. “And since when do you wear clothing in the morning? Got company?” At that, I quietly wrapped a hand around the doorknob.
“What’s with the third degree, Alec? I’m wearing a damned sweater. Get out.”
“Is it just a sweater, though? Because shifters talk, Reagan, and I’ve been hearing some really interesting gossip at The Pit about a certain Fae and my girl.”
“You really trust rumors from the drunken idiots at The Pit? And I was never your anything. You’re disgusting. Now I’ll warn you one more time. Leave.”
“You’re mine.” Alec’s voice was low, threatening. “And I better not hear another word about you even looking at another man.”
A snorted laugh, then, “I’m getting a knife. I warned you.” For a moment, I lost track of the sounds and conversation. Then came a loud thud. Reagan gasped. “Let me down, now.” At the panic in her voice, ice shot through my veins. She didn’t sound in control. She sounded—
“I’ve had enough of this game, Reagan. I’m an alpha, and alphas get what they want. Who they want. If I can’t have you, I’ll take you.”
Splintering rage exploded through me. I wrenched the door open to find Reagan pressed against the wall, feet dangling,
