“God, Kruger,” she said against the base of his throat.
He drew a long breath. “Baby, calm down. It’s all right.”
“I didn’t think you were going to wake up.”
“I’m awake, lass,” he murmured. “How long was I out?”
“Almost three days.”
“Shite.”
“Wallaig said… But then I thought… And you weren’t… So, I just, you know.”
“What?”
“Started praying.”
“Bloody hell, lass.”
“You scared me.”
“I know.”
“I want to kick you.”
He grinned against her temple. “Normal, under the circumstances.”
“It isn’t funny. You almost died.”
“I didnae. I’m hale and whole, Fergie, mostly thanks tae you, but…next time”—he paused for effect—“if there ever is a next time, I’ll tan yer hide if you donnae leave well enough alone.”
Her muscles tensed. She stilled against him. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” he said. “You donnae put yerself in danger for any reason, Ferguson. Not for me or anyone else. I’m a dragon warrior, born and bred. I understand war. I know the stakes. Silfer’s blood runs through my veins. I protect you. You donnae do the same for me.”
“That’s crap. I mean, seriously…total effing crap.”
“Fazleima—”
“It is, Kruger.” With a wiggle, she pulled away from him. Getting the message, he loosened his hold on her. He read the intensity in her expression before he heard it in her voice. “You wanted me to feel the bond between us—well…I feel it. It’s deep in my bones, in the beat of my heart, in the threads connecting my soul to yours. You can’t undo it. Neither can I, which means if you’re hurt—if you need me—I’m not going to sit at home eating bonbons or—”
“Bonbons?” the dead guy said, grinning like a madman.
Kruger glared at him over the top of her head.
The arsehole shrugged, then blew out a stream of smoke.
“—drink a cup of effing tea.” Green eyes dark with temper, Ferguson scowled. “You think you get to dictate the terms of energy-fuse. You don’t, I don’t, so suck it up, cowboy, and deal. I’m the effing innkeeper. I can take care of you, me and the rest of your dragon horde, without breaking a sweat.”
“Dude, chill. I think he gets it.”
“Shut up, Jethro,” she said without looking at him.
“Just saying, bro.”
“Seriously? Hello…private conversation,” she snapped at the dead guy. Jethro sighed and took another puff. Ferguson turned her attention back to Kruger. “Now…are you getting me?”
“Aye.”
“Are you on board or not?”
Fighting a smile, Kruger cupped her cheek. “Do I have a choice not tae be?”
“No.”
Kruger laughed. His mate was gorgeous always, but angry, she lit up the room, aura flaming, bioenergy snapping—a sight to behold as she fought for what she wanted, making him realize she wouldn’t tolerate half measures. Something he’d been guilty of giving for a very long time. With himself. With his brothers-in-arms. He’d guarded his heart so closely, he hadn’t been able to open it to anyone…until now. Until her.
“Baby,” he murmured, “we’ve got things tae talk about.”
“Your secret?”
“Among other things.”
He had a lot to say—about her attackers, battle strategy going forward, and future living arrangements. Instinct warned him away from discussing his sire. His reluctance was guided by habit, a bad one, something he needed to break. Ferguson was his mate. Trusting her with all of him, every little piece, came with the territory. She deserved his best. His all. Being her male meant he must give her the whole truth, and nothing less.
“But first, can you get rid of the dead guy?” he asked.
“Unlikely.” She made a face, one he found adorable. “Jethro does what he wants, when he wants. Can you really see him?”
“Aye.”
“Right on, dude. Stands to reason, though.”
Ferguson’s brows popped toward her forehead. She glanced over her shoulder at Jethro. “How do you figure?”
“Wavelengths, bro. Bandwidth. His matches yours. Perfect pitch,” Jethro said, flipping his hands out in an “duh” gesture. “You see me, so now he does too.”
“Hate to agree with him, cowboy. It doesn’t happen often, but”—tilting her head, she pursed her lips—“he’s making sense.”
Jethro scoffed at the insult.
Kruger kissed the tip of her nose. “How long have you seen ghosts?”
“All my life.”
“Is Jethro the only one?”
She shook her head. “There’ve been others. Cuthbert’s stayed around the longest, though. Oh, and Luther too.”
“Luther?”
“His dearly departed cat.”
“Fucking hell,” Kruger grumbled, envisioning a lifetime full of dead people popping in to visit his mate…and annoying the hell out of him. “Is there any place you’re safe from them?”
“Haven’t found one yet.”
He sighed.
“You’re good and stuck now, cowboy.”
“Is that where you want me? Truly, Fergie—do you really want tae be stuck with me?” he asked, giving her an out as doubt circled, messing with his head. “Think on it, lass. Do it hard and fast…be honest with yerself and me. I’m not normal by Dragonkind’s standards…or any of yers either.”
“Normal is overrated. I’ve never been normal, Kruger,” she said, gaze drilling into his. “Do you want me any less knowing I see ghosts, or that I’m the newly appointed innkeeper to The White Hare?”
“I donnae give a fuck who you are, or where you come from,” he growled, pissed off by the implication. “You’re mine. That’s all that matters tae me.”
“Then why can’t I feel the same way about you?”
His brows collided. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.”
“Well, start,” she said. “I know we’re new, and it’ll take some time, but one thing I’m sure about—I’m for you, and you’re for me. We fit. We’re meant to be together. You trust in that, and I will too.”
“Fuck, baby.
“Yeah.”
“Gone for you, Fergie. In so deep, I’m tangled up in you now.” Wrapping a tendril of hair around his fingers, he tugged. Her chin tipped up. He kissed her softly, sweetly, with so much feeling she trembled in his arms, feeling the same thing he did. “Having you, feeling the beauty of you…I donnae want tae live without you now.”
Tears pooled in her eyes. “You’ll never have to, handsome. I’ve been searching for you my whole life. Looking, hoping, praying…dreaming of the promise of you. I’m not going anywhere.”
His chest tightened. “Time and patience, baby.”
“Yeah,” she whispered. “Little by little, we’ll find our way.”