Page 46 of Cowboy Dragon's Rose

Nothing fancy, but it’s hers. Meant for her.

I don’t know what the hell is happening to me, but the urge to feed her, take care of her, give her things—it’s swallowing me whole.

It’s not just instinct.

It’s need.

My Dragon’s pacing inside me like a feral thing, claws scraping bone. He wants her fed, touched, marked, mated.

“Why are you here?” I growl, grabbing drinks from the fridge, tossing them into the soft cooler like it’s a shield between me and whatever conversation he’s dragging me toward.

Kian shrugs like this is normal. Like I’m normal.

“Just checking on you.”

“Bullshit.”

“Is that a cow joke, bro? Cause I had enough of those from your girl this morning,” he mumbles.

I roll my eyes. Then I snort. He’s right. That was his fucking Bull wandering around that Casey spied when she left my cabin.

I don’t like that she left, but it’s fucking hilarious she kept calling Kian’s animal a cow.

Snort.

The bovine in question hops up onto the counter like he’s not a huge ass Shifter and one wrong move from getting tossed out the window.

“So, you and Casey, huh?”

I pause. My jaw clenches.

“Me and Casey what?”

“Easy, bro.” He holds up both hands. “I mean, it’s good news, right?”

I zipper the cooler shut, making way more noise than necessary.

My breath shudders out, and I feel it.

Heat pulsing right behind my ribs. My rose burning as it stretches, trying desperately to bloom.

My Dragon isn’t just agitated.

He’s desperate.

Find her. Bite her. Mate her. Before it’s too late.

But I can’t.

Not like this.

Not when she doesn’t even know what I am.

Not when she thinks I’m just a man and not the fire-wielding monster clawing at the inside of his own skin.

I press my hands flat to the counter, bracing against the weight pressing down on me.

“I haven’t claimed her,” I mutter.

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