The Protector (Fire's Edge #4) - Abigail Owen Page 0,3
her helpless by a long shot. Unfortunately, females like her were seen as good for only two things: political alliances if they were born to a high-ranking family like Lyndi had been, or helping their male family members take care of their young, like spinster aunts.
Lyndi had chosen neither door A nor B, instead going with door C, where she’d followed the only brother she liked to the Americas—though door A wasn’t locked. An arranged mate could come knocking any day. But “out of sight, out of mind” had worked for her so far.
For one weak moment, she allowed her gaze to linger on the back of Levi’s head—dark, golden hair cropped short, the swirling lines of his family mark on the back of his neck, the strength of broad shoulders that were always trying to bear the weight of the world for the people he protected.
Her dragon, who’d always liked him, threatened to purr—she’d enjoyed that dream a little too much—and Lyndi shook off the mounting tension that had been growing like a cancer inside her since the moment she stepped foot in this mountain.
She was perfectly happy, dammit. Without him.
Giving in to wanting him wouldn’t be fair to either of them, a decision she’d made the day she’d first met him and her dragon had whimpered her approval.
Not that he was interested.
Even if he were, mating him—or what that looked like for female-born dragons, at least—wouldn’t be advantageous to her family, so her king wouldn’t allow it. But an even bigger reason, for her at least, was the fact that female-borns could never be a true mate. Not like a human mate. The bond a dragon could create with a human was soul-deep and incredibly special, a connection that extended a dragon’s life by another thousand years until he and his mate died together, never to be apart in this life or the next.
She’d seen what not mating had done to Drake. The slow, torturous deterioration he’d tried to hide. Cami saved his life. To not find a fated mate would be cursing Levi to an early death.
He deserved more than what she could give him.
Or, more accurately, what she couldn’t give him.
“Please tell me you weren’t out late looking for that orphan,” he shot at her next, still not turning around.
“What do you have against my boys?” she shot back, keeping her voice hushed.
His back stiffened visibly, like a golden marble statue. “Nothing. I have a thing against you being out there on your own. It’s dangerous.”
Misogynistic ass.
Levi spoke louder, to the entire room. “This fire is in western Nevada. We shouldn’t need the entire group.”
Implying that they didn’t need her. Yet again. Levi always seemed to be trying to keep her from going out with the enforcer team. Or was it from going anywhere with him?
“Bite me,” she muttered. Then glanced around for something to throw at his thick head.
He would have to be on call with her again. Especially maddening given that his smooth as sin voice gave her highly inappropriate, and even more annoying, thoughts, no matter how hard she tried not to think them. Thoughts like what it might feel like if he growled against her skin—
“You’re late, Lyndi.” Drake’s voice broke through the start of a horribly detailed fantasy.
Lyndi smoothed out her scrunched-up face and stepped out from behind the human wall in front of her. “I’m on my period,” she announced.
She had to swallow a chuckle as the men in the room shuffled their feet. Poor male suckers. The period excuse worked like a charm to shut them up. Every. Single. Time.
Well…all except Rivin and Keighan. The two white dragon shifters—best friends, incessantly horny, and known to be up for a threesome or more—shot her twin grins of devilry.
“Really?” Rivin smirked, dark hair flopping over one eye.
“Let’s go get messy,” Keighan, taller and blonder and less swarthy, followed up immediately.
Lyndi wrinkled her nose. “Gross—”
A low rumble of a growl reverberated from Levi, cutting her off, and Lyndi wasn’t in the least surprised to find his eyes glowing copper with fire, setting a glittering glow to his already gold-toned skin. She crossed her arms and sent him yet another glare. The down-and-dirty dorks meant nothing by it, and Levi knew that. Besides, she could damn well stand up for herself, and, unlike the humans in this era who seemed to exist in a state of constant offense, she could also tell when the guys were joking.