Mommy set the phone aside as Liam whined and plucked at her shirt. “Are you hungry?” she asked gently. He nodded. “I can’t nurse you when you’re like this, sweetheart, not with all of those razor-sharp teeth.”That was the saddest thing he had ever heard in his whole life. He lifted his head and looked at her, grief stricken.

Oh my God, not only is he older than the Grand Canyon, but he’s like the pope and the Fae King and the president of the United States all rolled up into one. To some ancient cultures he had been a god. He was going to hurt her so bad before he killed her so dead, and all she could think of was how hot his kiss had been in the dream and how delicate the touch of his finger was as it traced down her body.

He looked at her with his eyelids half closed, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. She shrugged impatiently. “What?” “I love it when you get dictatorial,” he murmured.

Dragos, I don’t think we’re alone here.

He loved her, he loved her, but he was never entirely sure he knew what that meant. What was love, anyway? For him, love was a collection of moments... strung together like luminous pearls on a string.

For someone who knew he was not a very good man, he liked to think he was a good mate and husband. He was a good dragon.

Dragos looked at Pia. “I’m not getting sex tonight, am I?

Mom's smiles were the most beautiful thing in the world, and they almost always made things better. They almost even made an early bedtime okay, but not quite.

Suddenly, she burst out, "I want to punch her evil, lying face."Liam caught a flash of hot gold as Dad looked at them, narrow-eyed, in the rearview mirror. Dad said, completely seriously, "I can make that happen.