Page 5 of The Ruby Dragon's Unconventional Mate

He was just observing.

“We are. I have to admit, the house was kind of a surprise, but we’re making it work.”

Lars arched one eyebrow, his lips twisting. “It’s…unique, for sure.”

“You hate it.” He did actually grin then. “So do I, really. Lach hasn’t said one way or another, but it sure doesn’t fit in around here, huh?”

Lars tilted his head. “I don’t understand. The wing is supposed to provide the guardians with what they need.”

“You needed a demented fairy-tale house?”

Those lips went tight. “Obviously.”

He rolled his eyes. “I was just teasing, honey.”

“You don’t have pet name or teasing privileges anymore.”

Ouch. He deserved it, but still—“Cool. I mean, I don’t mean to sound judgey. You do you, boo. It’s all good.”

“It is. My house is incredibly comfortable, and just what I need.”

Mmhmm. Fussy. Prissy. Not particularly guardian-esque.

He forced himself to stop.

None of this—not a bit of it—was Lars’s fault. Logan had been amazing to him, helping him get Lachlan out and safe, with a position where his brother never had to leave the wing.

He needed to remember that while his old wing had been fierce and competitive, this one was slower-paced and easier. He needed to focus on how good everyone had been to him.

More than anything, he needed to focus on his twin.

“So have you been on the river yet? It’s warm enough for it…”

Small talk was better than silence, he supposed.

“No. No, I’ve been working my ass off.” He’d had to deal with everything that he did as well as Lachlan’s responsibilities. “Some of us have businesses to run.”

The words popped out before he could think not to. Shit.

Lightning cracked, flashing across the sky, the visual stunning as Lars stood, his hair crackling with static electricity. “If you’ll excuse me. Pat, is my drink ready?”

“Yes, guardian.” The kid’s eyes were huge.

“Hey—”

Lars held up a hand. “I tried to be nice. You obviously have used up whatever veneer of decency you’d hidden under. So don’t bother with social niceties, and I won’t either.” Lars grabbed his drink, striding off.

Well, crap. That had been dumb and worse, thoughtless and unkind. Dammit.

The Pat kid stared at him, his eyes huge. “I don’t—Do you want this scone too, because Lars left it.”

Before he could answer, Amber from next door came storming in, her eyes gone all rainbow like her glasses. “What the fuck is going on, Pat? Is everyone all right? Is Lars okay?”

Pat looked at him, looked at her, looked at him, looked at her. “Uh-huh. Yes, Amber. He left with his coffee.”

“I do not understand what is going on. Are you all right?”

“Yes, I’m fine. I didn’t—I mean, I swear it wasn’t me. I was nice.” The teen was going to burst into tears.

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