Are you sure you feel up to this?” Warrick asked her. “It’s only been a day since your attack.” “Yes.” Thanks to dragon blood saving her again. Warrick, the hypocrite. And she was just the person to tell him so.

The Tempus, a young woman, fair with light brown hair, bowed her head to him. So she knew to acknowledge a dragon lord, though that wasn’t the role he played in his life these days. A respectful spy. How quaint.

Voclain needs an heir.” “As she lacks the anatomical structures to lay an egg, my human issue will have to inherit.” “Voclain is a Bloodkin legacy, one of the oldest – ” “Then, mother, I suggest you get cracking and give me a brother. He can have Voclain. I’m going to be happy.

We may be sexually incompatible.” “How’s that?” He didn’t seem worried. “You’re supposed to take those buttons off with your teeth. I should be naked by now.

You see?” Thane waved at the photo. “Everything about her is nonsensical. A dragon who lies with a wolf? I suppose pigs fly and the moon is blue, too.

I’m mortal. I could die any day.” Brandon had almost killed her. Her parents had died young. Her grandfather would have died yesterday. “I’m Warrick Voclain. And you will stay by my side until the stars fall from the sky.

I thought you would never arrive.” “Traffic.” Warrick smiled at Samantha. She felt herself blush. She loved traffic. She hoped there was more on the way back to his penthouse.

Everyone knew the Hans Christian Andersen fairytale about the Sandman and how he brought sweet dreams to sleepers. An early, now-defunct Reve company had even used him as their mascot. But that’s all the Sandman had been – a mascot. A little grinning elf holding an hourglass.

He was now in the business of hoarding pleasure.

Wife," he murmured. "Damn. The bastard fought dirty. Wife was her favorite word.