Page 54 of Kidnapped By The Messy Dragon

He takes my shoulders in his hands. “Baby, what’s going on?”

“Renee.” Then I’m crying.

He pulls me into his arms. “Whoa, whoa?—“

“She’s my friend,” I say into his chest. “I just deserted her.”

I know exactly what being left feels like. And I did it to her.

21

JALEN

Ihold my mate while she cries into my shirt, and the witch’s amulet sits on my quilt like junk mail. I’d trade it, the vault, and everything in it to take this shaking out of her.

Down below us, Brandy’s voice goes high and fast about something. Malachi lifts his chin.

“Let me know what the plan is,” he says, and he’s gone quick down the hall.

That leaves me alone with her, and that’s when she comes apart in a new direction.

“I have to go.” She pushes back from me, already scanning the room for her shoes. “Let me borrow your car.”

Millbrook.She means to drive herself back into the witch’s own town, alone, two days after ghouls put hands on her in an alley there.

The room goes red at the edges, and my dragon takes over.

She gasps. I have her up off her feet and laid out on the bed, and I’m over her, caging her in, so fast that all she gets out is that one small sound.

Even gone, he’s careful with her. The landing is soft. We would never be anything else with her.

“You are not leaving me,” I say, and my voice comes out with him still in it.

She swallows. She sniffles.

“I need you to trust me,” I tell her. “Trust that I’ll take care of this. Nothing will happen to your friend.”

Her lip trembles.

I take her hand and pull it to my neck, and I run her fingers over the mark she left me. It goes warm under her touch.

Then I lean down and press my forehead to hers.

This is where I go to work. Trust is the one thing she’s never given anyone whole, and I want all of it.

I ease back enough to see her face. “Baby. I know you’re used to taking care of yourself. Doing things on your own. But you aren’t alone now.”

I take her hand off my neck and press it flat over my chest, right where the heat lives. “I am asking you to trust me. Trust my dragon—your dragon.”

She groans and snatches her hand back.

I smile. The groan is for show. Under it, her scent has gone soft and giving, and I can read my own odds. I’m getting my way.

I make myself pull up off her, breathing heavy, and climb down from the bed. My dragon goes with complaints.

She sits up. “What are you about to do?”

I cross to the rig in the corner. “Record my final podcast.”