Page 95 of Alpha Dragon's Mating Contract
“I should learn to drive,” Walren said.
So you don’t have to in these situations,he didn’t add.
Raptor’s laugh was breathless. “Yeah. I’ll... I’ll teach you when I’m not... not in rut.”
Somehow, Raptor got them back to the mansion safely. It was only when they pulled up at the tall iron gate, when Raptor drove up the winding driveway and parked in front of the mansion, that Walren’s anxiety loosened its vice grip around his insides.
The double front doors burst open. Hassel ran out, scrutinizing the car. “Chef Master!”
“I’m fine. We got home safely.”
“Looks like you brought a friend.” Hassel glanced to the side.
Go Cart was wheeling around in the courtyard, but Walren’s priorities were getting his family—no, Raptor wasn’t hisfamily—into a more comfortable place.
“Go,” Raptor panted, still buckled into the driver’s seat.
Walren frowned. “What about you?”
“Get everyone settled in. The moment I leave my restraints, I’ll be hunting you down. Pinning you beneath me.”
Walren gulped, his throat suddenly bone-dry. “Promise?”
Raptor met his eyes through the rearview mirror. “Promise.”
Already, Walren’s body was heating up in response. All day, the alpha had been busy in the Nood’s Good kitchen, no surprise rut pulling him away from his work.
Of course his rut would strike harder when it finally came.
Walren’s fingers trembled as he fumbled Zebbie out of his car seat. Hassel opened the back door for them; Walren stumbled before Hassel managed to catch and steady him.
“Where to, Chef Consort?”
“Backyard. Or front yard,” Walren said. “Go Cart!”
The cart rushed over, wheels squeaking.
“This is Go Cart,” Walren said. “Go Cart, this is Hassel. Hassel is Raptor’s butler.” Walren tucked a fluffy blanket into the cart’s cargo basket, before placing Zebbie in it. To Hassel, he said, “GoCart loves being chased. Zebs, you’re okay playing with Go Cart for a bit, right?”
Zebbie stuffed his hand into his mouth, blinking owlishly.
“Are you going to be a kangaroo again tonight?” Walren asked Hassel awkwardly.
“I thought I might do something different.” In the blink of an eye, Hassel’s clothes crumpled to the ground, and Hassel the man was nowhere to be seen.
Then the shirt collar moved; a chipmunk poked his head out.
The chipmunk hopped out of the clothes and shifted into a miniature dragon, about twice Zebbie’s size.
Zebbie babbled and shifted too—into an emerald-scaled dragon, his tiny wings flapping. Walren hurried to free his son of his human clothes.
A roar came from the car.
Walren’s breathing stuttered. Had Raptor seen Zebbie? Was that why he roared?
Zebbie roared back, his voice high-pitched and ever so adorable.
“You’ll be okay with Hassel, right?” Walren asked Zebbie.
