“Why don’t we think about it like this,” I gingerly begin, gathering all of his gaze once more. “Taking me with you will prevent me – your fucking mate – from inevitably sneaking out behind your back and helping do this shit anyway.” My sassy comment combined with the shoulder shrug receives a harsher scowl. “You trust me?”
“Yes.”
Gold, do you trust me?
There’s not an ounce of hesitation from the ancient dragon.
Always.
“Then trust me to be an asset and not a liability.”
Love and fear fuse in his stare; however, the glints of gold glitter return. “You really wanna fucking do this, Tiny Toes?”
“I love you,” I firmly declare on a crooked grin, “and I know I can handle anything when we’re doing it together, Peanut Butter.”
A.D. smashes his mouth against mine, delivering swift sweeps and claiming strokes in such an unremitting nature it leaves me breathless with my knees knocking together. When he pulls back, his eyes remain lingering in mine while instructs to the others, “Let’s make some fucking phone calls.”
You shouldn’t be this fucking excited.
Am.
Obviously, you fucking are, but you shouldn’t be. That’s what I’m fucking saying!
Am.
How are you not nervous? Or worried? Or terrified? Or-
Excited.
Our Fated Mate begins to saunter over from the patio steps towards the dragon pad where we often launch and land. Her tiny gold dress – if you can even call it that – gets me releasing large puffs of gold, shimmering smoke in frustration and scratching at the ground underneath me in outrage. Each stride taken has my heart plummeting to the pits of my stomach in fear someone’s going to get a peak of what’s on the other side of the unnecessary high slit displayed on her left thigh, while the confidence she probably came out of the womb carrying keeps her shoulders back, presenting the mouthful of titties that I need in my mouth – in my Awaker form – in all their beautiful, light honey brown-skinned glory.
What I undoubtedly hate most is the fact she’s not wearing her fucking locket.
She pauses directly in front of my snout, plops her clutch free hand on her hip, and takes a sassy stance. “Why do I feel like I’m in a fucking rave? What’s with all the smoke?”
Ozsean or O, our cousin from the coast, snuffles his amusement from where he’s sitting in his shifted form on the other side of the pad.
The tip of my nose gently nudges her torso to receive her touch.
Her lack of hesitation to reach out to me in this form tells me everything that matters most. She isn’t appalled by the sight of gold scales and sharp ridges nor is she scared of my ancient beast side in all its glory.
Fact is, Ana isn’t afraid of much; however, if I’m being completely fucking honest, I wish she were afraid of just a little more.
As soon as she places a loving hand on me, my mind goes blank. Peace that was nowhere to be seen or heard or even thought about is suddenly wrapped tightly around me, suffocating the earlier anxiety and effortlessly soothing both sides of myself.
Fuck, that feels good, Tiny Toes.
She flashes me a wide grin prior to speaking where only I can hear.
Wish I was rubbing another head instead, huh?
More stomping occurs on a low gnarl.
Fuck. Yes.
Gold is right on my tail with answering.
Yes.
Feelings of flattery roll through her system and into us.
Now, what’s with the pop tour style entrance? What are you so fucking upset about?
What the fuck are you wearing?
A dress.
Where’s the rest of it?
Another loud snuff of disapproval is made.
Change.
Her expression shifts to one I wish I didn’t know so well.
We all know I look hot as fuck in this dress.
Yes.
Can definitely fucking concur.
More importantly, it’s gonna keep eyes on me, and off of you, which will allow for you to do whatever Dexter shit it is you need to do in order to rescue Krystie.
Unhappy yet understanding grunts are given.
Ana flashes a sexy smirk and delivers a softer, more salacious stroke.
Behave, and I’ll let you claw it off me later.
New, needier snuffs speedily shoot out of us prompting her to simply wink and drop her touch.
For Dragons Sake, even when we’re about to risk our lives she’s still fucking with me?
Does everyone’s Fated Mate drive them this insane, or is it just mine?
“Plan,” P begins, ending a call during his descent down the steps. “One more time.”
Karry releases a heavy sigh from the chair she’s still occupying on the deck area. “We’ve already gone over this plan at least four times since I’ve been here.”
And what feels like forty while she wasn’t.
Every chance P could carve out around me fucking my female senseless, he took. With O arriving promptly by breakfast, it allowed him to be briefed, kinks to be worked out, and backup plans – as well as alternative plans for the backup plans – to be created. My big brother hammered out details while I hammered into Tiny Toes, leaving her riddled with my scent and bearing marks that healed all too quickly for my liking.
I feel prepared enough for what’s coming next, but I don’t think I could ever properly brace myself for knowingly letting the creature I love just traipse into danger like she’s about to.
Am I fucking proud?
Fuck yes.
Do I find her resilience sexy?
Double fuck yes.
Am I scared shitless that this might be our last night on earth together if something goes wrong?
Fuck yes, in any and all languages known and unknown.
But I’ll admit it.
We’re one in the same.
I too would rather die at my Fated Mate’s side than hundreds of miles away from her.
“Plan,” P huffs, eyes planted on Ana. “From the top.”
“Which top, the part where I picked out the trampiest dress I could have Gene whip up on such short notice, or can I fast forward to when we actually arrive at the event?”
“You are my brother’s mate,” he murmurs in obvious irritation.
Yes.
“Karry and A.D. looking like a happy couple and me their third wheel. O monitors the yacht perimeter from the water for suspicious activity. When it’s found, he will splash the boat from the side it’s been located on. A.D. and Karry will pretend she’s a little drunk, that she needs some air, go outside to get some, and commence operation kill Teen Wolf.”