Calek's amusement evaporated. He leaned forward. Uncharacteristically solemn, he warned, "But you did not appraise her of what it entails to mate a dragon. You'll do terrible things for her, and to her. So what's the plan? You hope and pray she'll forgive you, anyway."

Drach's fingers trembled, and the pen flew off and skirted over the floor. He tossed a file in front of Calek. "Asena is compatible. I had her DNA analyzed and she's in prime health—"

"Drach, I asked if she knows—"

"Before I could, she—"

Calek picked up the file to fan Drach's smoking skin and snorted. "That explains her qualms. She's sensible to refuse your invitation. You wouldn't have allowed her to leave! How badly was she hurt?"

"I might've bruised her wrist and blistered her fingertips," he mumbled.

On the back foot, he owned up to his mistakes to his younger brother, who was usually at the receiving end of the reprimands.

Calek scratched his scalp while thinking. "So, we overestimated your charms, and she is more than a pretty face, or a hungry waif. Someone better feed her. Has it occurred to you this might be a ploy—"

"There was no artifice in her scent." Asena's feelings, conveyed by her fluctuating hormones, spoke louder than her words.

Calek patted Drach's clenched fist. "Are you sure? Why not bed her and get it out of your system?"

"I am irrevocably committed to her." He'd never been so sure. Even on the journey to reclaim all that their father had frittered, he had entertained doubts. But none plagued him regarding Asena.

"Why?" Calek asked.

It was such a simple question. He'd spent two days and nights mulling over it but hadn't arrived at a rational answer. But the only explanation, a self-serving justification, couldn't be faulted on honesty.

"She sees me and sees through me. On a few occasions, she interrogated me and was unerringly direct. I didn't put much stock in destined mates until she ignited something dormant. The irony is that she is unsuitable due to her association with Eros. The fates can play their dastardly games, but I will have her. She's mine."

"Why couldn't you choose from amongst our kind? Our females know their place," Calek grumbled.

Male dragons demanded obedience, but his Asena was a rebel. Her defiance didn't offend Attor, but her harsh assessment of them pained him. "She held my gaze. When she lowered her eyelids, it was a strategic withdrawal, not a surrender. If I were to bet, she'd made up her mind before she met me. I swayed her resolve but she held firm."

'She's fearless,' his beast huffed. Attor, used to commanding attention, found her equanimity disconcerting.

"I tell you, she has a spine of steel," he said.

"Yet you drove her away! If she's all that, respect her decision," Calek advised. "Especially when you haven't informed her of the gory details of how she'll be able to bear your touch."

If it were any other issue, he would have heeded those words of wisdom.

"I cannot," Drach admitted. "She remained unimpressed and tight-lipped until she had the drink. That's when she revealed how her father still mourned for her mother. He cherished his daughter, but is gone; she's a vulnerable orphan, alone in foreign lands. I am looking out for her."

Her eyes, bright with tears, and the longing when she talked of him proved she missed him.

"So you bug and drug her. I am so proud of you." Calek didn't attempt to camouflage his sarcasm. "And we are not orphans."

"Neither of our parents was there for us when we grew up. They exiled us for our safety, to strangers who neglected us. Neither checked on our welfare. One went on the run to stay alive, but in style befitting her status. The other's ego prevented him from acceding to the Saxe-Coburgs' reign. Our guardians cast us out on the streets when the payments stopped. I will not abandon my mate at Eros' mercy."

"Learn from Tiamat. Calm your tits. The cat grasped it's no easy feat to quell a dragon. Imagine her reaction to a grouchy smoldering Were. You're coming across as a walking, talking, burning red flag, no, a banner."

"She is not indifferent to me."

"Please!" Calek mocked. "Let me explain. Most warm-blooded females react to the pheromones you release if Attor's attracted to them. She reacted to our biological defense mechanism. Given the risks, nature armed us with the advantage designed to seduce potential breeders into pliant partners. Cover up. You're not a rabid werewolf on a full moon night. Since when do you have no chill, bro?"

"Don't speak like a heathen." Drach frowned; his gut twisted into knots. "She talks like this too. I'll find a linguistic expert myself." He grabbed the phone.

Calek wrestled it from him. "It's ill advisable to concern outsiders."

"But her file is woefully lacking." Allegedly, she attended a missionary school, which clarifies her fluency in the common tongue, but her diction rankled. Who said, 'It's been a hoot y'all.'? And she wasn't emulating what she'd overheard.

"Why champion her cause?" Calek persisted. "She won't be a respectful obedient partner. Beatrice—"

"—is a child, Calek!" Drach couldn't hide his disgust. He wouldn't dream of laying a finger on the youngest female of Karl Bastiel's weyr.

Calek tapped the file. "Asena is not—"

"She's a decade and a half older, not a coddled princess who is convinced her purpose is to breed. Since I saw her, I envisioned us creating, rearing a hoard, and growing old together. The thought of being with Beatrice sickens me."

"But you had to spy on her to realize she dislikes you. What if she doesn't change her stance?"

"She will... she's attracted to me. I scented it..."

"Really? That again? On dates, you ply them with compliments and alcohol... not drugs. Brother, you have no honor, and you judge me—"

He hadn't intended to spike her mocktail with the essence of catnip, but she'd entered clammed up. Her wide eyes had traced his slightest movement, tracking him. Their interactions were a dance. When he stepped closer, she withdrew as if sensing danger. So, he took drastic measures.

"I am not a hedonistic wastrel. Also, she's in the clutches of racketeers who are into sex trafficking. Calek, Asena hails from a respectable stock."

"If so, you should've been on your best behavior. What will she make of you threatening your staff with beheading when denied? Fold your wings and bury this obsessive side of your being. It's unbecoming and not a good look, bruv. "

"You aren't listening, Calek! She's loyal to a fault! Her upbringing shows. How she carries herself cannot be taught. And how do you account for talents?" But she had not mentioned them when he had inquired about her interests. "This is—" He pointed at the portrait of the hyenoid. "—an expensive hobby, developed over years of practice. She rattled off materials that aren't available in the savannas." His gaze lingered on the printout of the charcoal sketch.

Victoria was attractive, but she lacked Asena's soulful depth.

"You sent the paints, and she received that token?" Calek asked, frowning.

"The bill is in Duma's name. Else she wouldn't have—"

"Good news! You haven't mislaid all semblance of sense," his brother muttered. "But you are smitten. Her story doesn't add up—"

Drach sighed. "She returned the payment." Asena wasn't a gold digger.

"So what? You're lovesick if you aren't considering her motives—" Calek argued.

His frustration, and pain of the rejection, melted away. The vice crushing his chest loosened. "They're irrelevant. She is seeking what her parents had—crazy stupid love... those are her words."

"She's found it and decided against it," Calek tittered. "If she's using Eros to trace Victoria's whereabouts, I haven't heard of a dafter idea."

Darch pursed his lips. "Not if she is the last of Asena's family left. An orphan, she's misdirecting her grief by reuniting with a dear friend. She's naïve—"

Calek rolled his eyes. "Geez! Maybe this cat will tame you... but I forecast rough weather, not smooth sailing. But I also foresee her mocking laughter echoing through these rooms. Screaming matches where she'll tear you down and throw your treasures at you. When their claws protract, felines are the worst. This one's a fighter. She'll terrify the staff too, and I predict we'll have a crutch soon."

"We?" Drach growled. "You are to make yourself scarce and build your weyr." He had never daydreamed of hatchlings; now it seemed inevitable.

"What is yours is mine." Calek guffawed before adding, "Except for her; you can have her for yourself and the exclusive privilege of teaching her to mount and ride the dragon. Who but me can teach her how to rein you in?"

Drach refused to rise to the bait. "This is no jest—"

"Yes, yes, it's life and death for you. For me, this is fun. By the time I am done, you'll call me Calek, the matchmaker, who lured the jumpy cat into your lair."

"Calek—"

"If you want her, you will have her, but you cannot keep the dark side of mating a dragon from here, you hear?"

Drach shut his eyes. The problem was if she rejected him for mere blisters, she's never accept him if she told her the truth.

Still rooting for Drach? Does he deserve a second chance? Is he worth the risk?