The (Not) Satisfied Dragon - Colette Rhodes Page 0,24

other.

Oren took up his post next to the fireplace, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, leaving two armchairs free that Ezra and I took. I noticed the flash of disappointment on Seff and Levi’s faces that I hadn’t sat between them, and guilt ate at me for hurting them even if it wasn’t intentional.

“I suppose you have a lot of questions about why you found me covered in blood on a pile of dead Councilors,” I began, figuring we should start with the most uncomfortable subject first. The one they’d studiously avoided bringing up with me over the past two days.

“They killed your family and the other families on Glasdon Mountain. You took your revenge,” Seff responded immediately like I was quizzing him.

“Oh.” I blinked slowly. How'd they found out about my family? “I didn’t think you knew that.”

“We made the mistake of not knowing enough about you once before, we won’t be repeating it,” Ezra rumbled.

“You made the mistake of not asking,” I corrected irritably, remembering all the times Ezra had made assumptions rather than listen to me. Not that I’d been very forthcoming on the whole dead family issue, but still. He’d decided the fae were to blame for all my issues and never bothered to look any further into it.

Ezra leaned forwards in his armchair, getting more into my space and asserting his dominance. Strangely, I didn’t bristle at all. If anything, his dominance was doing interesting things to my nipples, which felt suddenly painful and sensitive against the scratchy fabric of my bra.

“You’re right. Be ready for a lot of questions, Shira. A lifetime’s worth.”

“You’re very confident for a male whose mate left him,” I breathed, eyes locked on his.

“You didn’t have to return when Seff suggested it, Shira. I’m very confident for a male whose mate came back,” he corrected.

Defiance rose in me until I pulled my gaze away from Ezra’s. Seff and Levi’s faces were filled with barely concealed hopefulness, and Oren’s usually smooth brow was furrowed and worried.

I angled myself sideways so I could see over the back of the armchair to where Hiram was isolating himself in the corner. I couldn’t see his face, but the tension in his shoulders and the unnaturally still way he was sitting was apparent even from across the room. I wished I could get into his head and understand what he was thinking, why he was acting this way and putting even more distance between us.

“I killed Flight Milain.”

“You did,” Ezra agreed solemnly.

“Their deaths will be investigated.”

“Undoubtedly.”

“You work for the Council,” I pointed out.

“So we do,” Seff chuckled.

“Then you know this can never happen,” I said, throwing my hands up in exasperation. “You’d be risking your career, your entire future. For a mate you’d never be happy with, anyway. The weeks we spent together made it clear that your expectations of a mate and the kind of gold I am aren’t compatible.”

“All that proves is that we were idiots, Shira,” Levi interjected in his smooth, calming voice. “We shouldn’t have placed any expectations on you. We shouldn’t have had any expectations, period. You don’t have to be anyone other than yourself.”

“Murderous tendencies and all?” I joked weakly, immensely uncomfortable with the seriousness of this conversation.

“I find your bloodthirsty side rather attractive,” Ezra said with a shrug like he hadn’t just blown my mind with that revelation.

“I could use some food if we’re talking about lifetimes,” I said eventually with false confidence. With Xander’s unexpected departure, I'd barely eaten the lunch Seff prepared for me, and I’d been even hungrier than usual since my first shift.

“As you wish,” Ezra replied, sounding amused as he stood and moved towards the hallway. “I’m on dinner duty tonight.”

Dinner duty?

“We’ve been taking turns with cooking, cleaning, and laundry,” Levi explained cheerfully.

Gods. Who were these males?

“Would you join me in the kitchen?” Ezra asked formally, pausing in the doorway and half turning to look back at me. Oh, that was more like it. He was going to rope me into helping him make dinner. At least that was familiar territory.

“Sure.”

The others stayed behind as Ezra and I made our way to the kitchen in silence. I went straight to the sink and began washing my hands while Ezra disappeared into the dining room and returned with a chair that he dragged under the archway that separated the two rooms.

“What’s that for?” I asked, puzzled, drying my hands.

“You,” he replied, looking as confused as I felt. “I didn’t ask you in