Page 27 of Dragon Flames
Preston gives a bark of laughter and begins piling food on his plate, smirking at me. “I’d better grab my share of food before you eat it all.”
Elias doesn’t react to my display, just glares at Preston, then snatches some of the dishes away from him and pushes them in my direction. Darius still seems unaffected as he continues to sip his tea. His bearing screams regal dragon, like he doesn’t give a fuck what anyone else thinks.
If I want to act like a savage, he’ll support me.
Some part of me relaxes.
I will never be one of those princesses in the tower. I don’t even know how to go about pretending to be one. If I try, I will only fail.
Warmth glows in my chest at their acceptance.
Only when my stomach feels like it’s about to explode do I finally lean back in my chair. The meal was thoroughly demolished, some of the plates even licked clean.
“Would you like me to get you more?” Darius lifts a cup of coffee to his mouth, taking a sip while he waits for my reply.
He’s completely serious, and I soften a little more toward the harsh man.
“No. Food was…scarce in prison.” I refuse to let them forget my past or where I was raised. “I’ll adjust to the amounts and pace myself after I’ve managed to convince my beast that we’re not actually starving anymore.”
A muscle ticks at the corner of his eyes, and he sets his cup down harder than he intended. Though he doesn’t comment, he nods. “The kitchen is open at any time. If you don’t know how to cook…”
I shake my head at his inquiring look.
“Then I’ll keep a tray of prepared foods in the fridge for you at all times.” His expression is harsh when he glowers at me, his beast giving the order. “Eat it.”
It’s a command more than an offer, but I’m not stupid enough to turn down food, so I say nothing. I tuck my leg up underneath me and look at each of the three men who claim to be my mates and ask the question hovering in the back of my mind. “You keep saying we’re mates. What makes you so certain?”
Chapter Nine
DARIUS
Concern swamps me as I watch Felicia decimate every scrap of food. I try to stay ahead of her, switching out the empty platters nearest her, but she doesn’t notice as she continues to devour everything within reach.
She’d been fucking starved.
Literally.
Coffee sloshes in my cup as a tremor of rage shakes me, and I carefully set the cup on the table, concentrating on the small action, my dragon intent on ripping out of my skin and seeking vengeance.
Appetite gone, I make a mental note to buy a couple of extra steers and an additional freezer. She’ll need to eat every couple of hours or more to gain back her strength.
My eyebrows arch when I spot Preston shoveling some of his food off his plate and back onto the platter before pushing it toward our mate. The kid is barely over a century old. Dragons don’t mellow until their five-hundredth year and will often fight to the death rather than share food. Elias only took a few small morsels as well, not nearly enough to fuel him for an hour, much less a day.
I’m so distracted by thoughts of everything that needs to be done to keep our mate protected and comfortable that I flinch at the sound of shattering glass.
Felicia snatches the knife off the table and crouches on the chair, ready to launch into action, her eyes wild as she surveys the room, frowning when no attack materializes.
Elias calmly opens his palm and shakes his hand, glass tinkling to his plate. Never once did he remove his gaze from her face. Preston looks just as disturbed, his attention glued to our mate. Her hand tightens on her knife, and her eyes narrow in distrust.
I shoot a pointed look at the other two, my beast rising until its power floods the room. They fight it, but ultimately lower their heads in submission. I would not allow the fuckers to upset our mate on the first day. She needs to be handled carefully, needs to learn who’s in charge.
“Our beasts recognize yours as our mate.” My dragon sinks his claws in my chest with the demand that we show her, furious that she would question our claim, but I hold him back.
“Bullshit.” She gives a derisive snort, lowering her knife only slightly. “I’m defective. I can’t even shift. No beast would willingly tie itself to someone so damaged.”
“Enough!!” I lunge to my feet, slamming my fists on the table hard enough that the dishes clatter and a crack forks its way down the center. I lean over, getting right in her face, not flinching when she lifts the knife to my neck. “You and your beast are magnificent. No one, not even you, is allowed to disparage my mate. Are we clear?”
I become distracted by her nearness, her enchanting silver eyes whirling almost hypnotically. With each breath, her lemon and ash scent seeps into my lungs like a drug that both soothes my beast and makes him hyper-focused on the petite woman crouched just within reach.
