“Harm comes in more than just physical injuries, Tristan. Look at what Neil did to Cait. Words and actions can be just as harmful as punches.”

“Neil was a right bastard. I sure hope you’re not comparing him to me.”

Bram was quiet for a second before he said, “If you keep focusing your hatred of humans on Melanie, then you could end up being worse. I had put my hope into Neil changing because of the clan depending on him. I failed and will always have to live with that, but I’m not about to watch one of my dragon-shifters sentence another human female into a life of misery.”

Tristan was thinking of how to respond to that when he noticed Samira’s entrance at the far door. Since Melanie was a few inches shorter, he couldn’t see her brown hair with all of the tall dragon-shifters in the way. His dragon urged him to go find her, but as he battled the beast for control, the crowd parted to reveal Melanie.

He almost didn’t recognize her. Her long hair was swept up atop her head, with strategic tendrils dangling near her ears. The light green material of the dress set off her eyes and made her creamy, bared skin glow. His gaze moved from her face and bare shoulders to the way the material hugged her breasts and ribcage before flaring out around her belly and hips. The dress was in the traditional style and tied on one side, in case a dragonwoman needed to shift, and the image of him untying the dress with his teeth and exposing her creamy, warm skin flashed into his mind.

He felt Bram’s hand on his shoulder and he nearly jumped. Bram squeezed his shoulder and said, “You can stop drooling now, Tristan. Go greet your human sacrifice.”

The noise had died down to a low hum. Everyone was waiting for him to introduce the new arrival.

He nodded and descended the dais. He ignored the stares of his clan and never took his gaze from his sacrifice as he approached her. While tonight was partly about introducing her to the clan, it was also the time for him to stake his claim; the woman was his, at least, for the time being.

For the first time since he’d met her, Melanie looked nervous. She had her hands clasped in front of her in a near-death grip and his inner dragon wanted to come out to wrap its body protectively around hers and soothe her. Only because of years of training to contain it did he manage to convince the beast that he would take care of her.

Of course, that meant trying not to insult her.

With Bram’s words about the possibility of him turning into a worse bastard than Neil, he stopped right in front of Melanie and put out a hand. He couldn’t promise to behave when they were alone, but he would at least try to behave in front of his clan.

When she placed her hand on top of his, he curled his fingers around hers and said, “At least you’re fashionably late.”

She blinked and said, “Thank you?”

His dragon growled a little, wanting him to give her a proper compliment, but he ignored it and motioned toward the dais with his head. On the short walk up to Bram, the mixture of her feminine scent and the warmth of her skin against his palm stirred both his beast and his cock. If this is what just being beside her did to him, what would happen when he had to kiss her?

* * *

When Samira had finally usheredMelanie into the grand meeting hall, it had taken every ounce of control Mel possessed not to bolt in the other direction. Every dragon-shifter they passed stared at her, and not all of their looks were friendly; a few were downright contemptuous.

The light lunch she’d eaten during her dress fitting from hell hadn’t been enough and now her stomach was twisting with both hunger and anxiety. With all that had happened to her over the last four hours, she was exhausted. Why the dragons had to have a welcoming ceremony on the same day as her arrival was beyond her. She was starting to understand how a less stubborn person could have a meltdown.

Still, she wasn’t going to be that person. She kept her chin and shoulders high as people cleared a path for them. When Samira pulled her to walk beside her instead of behind her, that’s when Mel finally saw Tristan and her step faltered.

He was dressed in something that looked like an old-fashioned kilt, which left his arms and most of his chest bare. His tattoo extended from his shoulder to wrap around his arm, the dark ink only highlighting the defined muscles of his bicep. He wasn’t bulky like a body builder; rather, he was lean with defined muscles similar to a swimmer. Considering the amount of upper body strength required for flying, it didn’t surprise her.

She had grudgingly found him attractive before, but with all of his exposed skin and the way he was dressed now, that attraction heated her entire body, including places she didn’t want to be thinking about right now.

All of a sudden, she imagined tracing the outline of his tattoo before running her hand through the light spattering of dark hair on his chest. She had just started to imagine him taking off his kilt-like outfit when Samira gripped her elbow, urged her forward, and said, “He’s an attractive bloke, isn’t he? Break through his mistrust and stand up to him, and you might get to enjoy all that skin against yours for more than it takes to conceive a child.”

Mel’s cheeks flushed and for once, she refrained from saying anything. The room full of dragon-shifters watching her every move was eating away at her fortitude to be herself at all times.

Tristan descended the dais and approached, and her heart started pounding in her chest at the flicker of appreciation in his eyes. Even she was honest enough with herself to know she looked pretty damn good in this dress. Samira had outdone herself to alter and make the dress flatter her curvy figure.

She smoothed the silky material of her skirt and the act eased some of her nervous energy.

Then Tristan was in front of her and she had trouble forcing her gaze from his chest to meet his eyes. Once she did, he put out a hand and she gingerly placed hers on top. The feel of his rough skin sent a shock through her body, straight to her core.

Despite the fact he could probably smell her arousal with his super-sensitive dragon senses, all he said was, “At least you’re fashionably late.”

Mel blinked. She wasn’t used to compliments, even half-assed ones, and especially not from Tristan. He was being almost...nice to her. She wondered what had happened between dumping her on the doorstep of the cottage and now.

Tristan guided her toward the raised dais and she noticed the clan leader watching them.

She made an effort to smile at Bram, but the combination of the heat of Tristan’s skin against hers and the smell of sky and man made it hard for her to think of anything but the warm dragon-shifter at her side. Samira’s words, about having his skin against hers beyond conceiving, entered her mind. She looked up at his face and wondered who this dragonman truly was. Now that she understood what humans had done to his mother, she started to see why he didn’t want her. Could he ever get past that?

She would tackle his issues tomorrow. For now, she focused on maintaining her composure. Dragon-shifters were part animal. One of the few things she’d discovered in her research was that their beasts assessed new acquaintances just like animals did, and she wasn’t about to give them a reason to place her low in the pecking order.