was good steady work, if a bit repetitive, but he was motivated to get these gloves done. It was satisfying to see his plan coming together, too. He finished the pot of coffee and made another, forcing himself to remain awake as morning progressed.
He knew the instant his mate arrived. The hairs prickled on the back of his neck. The air moved in an unusual way, just as he’d noticed when she’d vanished or appeared suddenly before. The firestorm flickered to life: he felt the glow of its icy fire and felt the flurry of white sparks collide with his back. It all happened at once.
He knew that it was now or never to make his play for survival. He’d already seen that she could be easily prompted to talk, and he had to think that the more she knew about him, the harder it would be to kill him. He’d work with what he had. Hadrian spun to find his destined mate a step away, a different blade raised in her hand. She was poised to strike, but then her gaze met his.
He saw the difference immediately. The expression in her eyes wasn’t as hard as it had been. The line of her lips was softer, and she flicked a glance over him. She hesitated to make the strike.
She had doubts.
Was that because they’d been talking? Or had something changed in her?
Either way, Hadrian would welcome progress wherever he found it. He moved like lightning to close the distance between them, caught her around the waist and bent to kiss her in the same moment that he seized the dagger in her grasp. His mouth closed over hers and she sighed with satisfaction, then seemed to remember herself. She broke their kiss and snatched for the blade but it was too late.
Hadrian summoned the change since the most interesting things happened when his mate was surprised. She was visibly startled to find herself in the grasp of an emerald and silver dragon. Hadrian liked that she wasn’t terrified. Her heart skipped once, then she surveyed him with curiosity.
Fearless. He admired that.
He loved how she ran her fingertips over his scales. It felt heavenly, the barest whisper of a caress lighting an urgency within him. He could get addicted to that pretty easily. Her touch and the shimmer of the firestorm sent shivers through him, making him want that kiss all over again. His heart pounded as he watched her eyes darken.
As if their thoughts were united.
Then she abruptly stepped away. Hadrian let her go, watching her lips tighten and her gaze lift to the blade.
“Give it back,” she commanded, as if he would do any such thing.
He spun the blade, hooking a talon through the lace on the hilt, letting it catch the light.
“A Scottish dirk,” he said with approval. “As sharp as the best ones are reputed to be. Nice ornamentation on the handle. I like the Celtic knot and the stone in the pommel. Is it amber?”
“Smoky quartz,” she acknowledged, then glared at him. “Give it back.”
Hadrian ignored her. “How old is this one?”
“Victorian,” she admitted through gritted teeth. Her lips tightened into a thin line as she extended her hand in silent demand.
He laughed. “We both know that isn’t going to happen. I like the collection I’m building, by the way.” He twirled the knife and tucked it beneath his scales, well aware that she was watching him. It didn’t matter. She’d never find the weapon on her own. Then he shifted shape again and had a thought. She liked challenges, too.
He lifted his hands, offering himself, and grinned at her. “Why don’t you try to find it yourself?” he teased.
She propped her hands on her hips. “You’re not making this easy,” she complained.
“Why should I?” Hadrian countered. He leaned against the table beside her, watching the firestorm brighten between them. “I’m not in a hurry to die.”
“I’m not going to make that deal with you,” she insisted. “You’re just delaying the inevitable.”
“You talk a lot for a cold-hearted killer,” he noted, studying her. “Are you lonely?”
She bristled visibly. “Why would I be lonely?”
“Maybe because you’re alone. You work alone, maybe live alone. That would leave you with no one to talk to.”
“How I live and work is irrelevant to you.” She was fingering the partially finished blades, as if assessing how useful they might be to her. Hadrian suspected she could use one in a pinch and deliberately stepped away from his worktable. He guessed