Page 65 of Alpha Dragon's Mating Contract
“Bet you’re thinking about it now,” Raptor drawled.
Walren groaned.
“One of my friends had his mate practice stretching with vegetables,” Raptor added gleefully. “But Elson was a virgin, and you’re clearly not. You didn’t have trouble taking m—”
Walrenlunged.He smacked his hands over Raptor’s mouth, only to have the cucumber whack his boss in the eye.
“Oh gods!” Walren yanked his hands back immediately.
Raptor grinned. “Giving me your cucumber this soon, sweetheart? I can already tell that today will be a good day.”
“No,” Walren whimpered. “Where is HR when you need them?”
“Right here.” Raptor winked. He grabbed a teapot and dispensed some hot water into it, swirling it around. Then he emptied thecooled water into the sink, before refilling the teapot. “C’mon, let’s go to my office.”
Walren followed him. What else was he supposed to do, really?
The office was just as cluttered today, except all the furniture had returned to their original positions, the spelled playpen tucked away.
“Why do you even have baby things in your office?” Walren asked.
“Oh! Sometimes my staff needs childcare. I pay them enough to hire a babysitter, but occasionally, those babysitters have to take a day off. That’s when these supplies come in handy.”
Walren needed a moment to let that sink in. “You pay your staff a lot. I couldn’t afford a babysitter with my old job.”
Raptor shrugged. “Perks of working here.”
“Do you even turn a profit from this place?” Walren blurted. “Uh, I shouldn’t have asked that. Sorry, just ignore me—”
“Not much of a profit, no.” Raptor’s smile was wry. “This is a hobby.”
Walren couldn’t imagine how rich Raptor had to be, for a whole restaurant to be his hobby.
Raptor opened his mouth, about to say more when—
Crash!
Both of them jumped. The sound had come from outside the office.
They looked at each other. Then Raptor was out of the office before Walren could blink.
18
THE ATTACK
Someone had shatteredone of the windows out front.
A small figure scrambled under the tables, crawling desperately through the restaurant.
A larger figure climbed through the window, making a beeline for them.
No staff in the vicinity; Raptor had taught them well.
He prowled toward the attacker, snapping his fingers to catch his attention. “Hey. You’re not welcome here.”
The man—an alpha, from his broad shoulders and muscular body—glanced over, then dismissed Raptor the next moment. Instead, he stalked after his target, who yelped and crashed into various chairs.
His target was a thin, disheveled man with three limbs on the floor, and one arm clutching a wriggling bundle against his chest. His face was smudged with dirt, orange eyes wide with panic. Torn clothes fluttered around his skinny body.
