Page 18 of Dragon My Crazy

Something in her tone set my teeth on edge. Maybe it was the years of being gaslit by my ex, but something didn’t sit right, and I wasn’t about to let this slide. “Are you saying I’m stressing her out?”

Luella’s lips curled into a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Oh no, no, no. I’d never suggest such a thing.” She tilted her head, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “But she is in a mood.”

She hadn’t been thirty seconds ago.

“And I wouldn’t want you getting hurt if she decides to torch the place again.” Her voice was perfectly sweet and controlled, but I didn’t fail to pick up the subtle threat in her words.

Then she leaned in as her voice turned into a conspiratorial whisper. “You know, Emmett brought you in because he heard you had a lot of magic. He thought you would be a good source for my father to draw from. He just wants your magic.”

She looked around as if worried that some invisible ear had heard her, then continued. “You’re not really his type, but he’s willing to pretend until they have you where they want you.” She sent me a pitying look. “It’s good that you don’t have that much magic after all. But still, I suggest you get away while you can.”

Then, with my mouth still open and gawking, she took Melly from my arms. The little dragon clawed at the woman, but the claws didn’t even make a dent. It was as if the woman wassurrounded by a solid force field. I recognized magic when I saw it. Seth had done the same for me to keep me impervious to harm.

Her words bounced around my head as I stepped out into the hallway and tried to make my way back to my room. The sprawling estate was beginning to look all the same to me, and I was certain I’d gotten lost when one of the ifrits popped up in front of me.

“Blaze at your service. Would you like some help getting back?” He offered with a bow.

“Thank you,” I said. “All the corridors look so similar.”

“They do. But I know the way. Just follow the line.” He swirled into smoke and reformed as a burning line of arrows on the floor, pointing the way.

I was just stepping back into my room when Nak appeared. “Dinner is in fifteen minutes. The master requests your presence in the dining room.” He turned to Blaze, who was still just a flickering flame on the ground. “You and your brother can join the rest of us down in the household mess. You can regale us with stories from beyond the mountains.”

Blaze hesitated.

“It’s okay, Blaze. I’ll call you if I need anything. You boys have fun.”

He nodded and followed the goblin away, drifting behind him in his djinn form.

I stepped into my room to change for dinner.

Thediningroomwastoo damn hot. And no, it wasn’t because of the fire roaring in the hearth—though that didn’t help one bit—but because of the way Emmett was looking at me likeIwas the dessert he wanted to devour. His golden eyes held mine across the table, lingering just a second too long on my lips, like he was imagining doing filthy things to them.

His shirt sleeves were rolled to the elbows, exposing forearms corded with muscle and dusted with hair. It had always amused me that dragons had hair in their human forms. Like, how did their bodies decide which scales turned into hair, and how long it was?

The top button of his dark, silky shirt had come undone, revealing the hollow of his collarbone. His jaw was shadowed with the beginnings of stubble. Full lips showed a devilish grin that made thinking difficult.

Light from the candle between us reflected in his eyes, turning them a molten gold, and his chestnut-colored hair was just messy enough to make me want to run my fingers through. He sat back in his chair with all the lazy power of a king surveying his domain, but his fingers kept tapping against the table like he was fighting the urge to reach for me.

My traitorous brain kept imagining him doing just that, and much, much more, which was completely inappropriate.

Dragon, remember?I reminded myself several times.

I was here for Omelet, er, I mean Melly, not to jump Emmett in the middle of dessert.

I should’ve feigned a headache after dinner. But Emmett had been so adamant that I stay.

“You’re not leaving before dessert,” he’d rumbled.

I arched a brow. “Says who?”

“Says me. And Vito will be upset you didn’t try the chocolate torte. He worked so hard on it.”

Vito was his demon chef. It was pretty well known that demons had a love of all things physically pleasurable. And food was one of those things. Vito enjoyed having a near limitless budget and carte blanche to feed Emmett’s household.

And as if on cue, the dessert arrived, a rich, decadent chocolate torte with raspberry sauce, and I’d stayed because who in their right mind could say no to that? Emmett’s mouth quirked into an infuriating smile like he knew he’d won.

“Fine,” I’d sighed. “But only because I have a weakness for chocolate.”