Her mind took a quick snapshot.
Two ogres, spiked clubs raised, blackened teeth bared, locked in mortal combat in the middle of the lobby.
One swung a huge club at the other.
Wind gusted through the lobby as the other dodged.
Guests scattered, running for cover.
“Stop,” she said with quiet authority. Her hushed tone speared through the lobby. Spinning the bladed end of her staff upright, she strode toward the combatants. “Right now.”
Almost twelve feet tall, the offenders paused mid-fight. Bald heads swung in her direction. Flat noses with slitted nostrils flared. Round eyes blinking, the matched-set-of-ugly assessed her, deciding whether to obey.
She added some incentive. “If you don’t, I’ll send you to sleep in the stables…with Koerich.”
Both ogres blanched.
Ferguson didn’t blame them. Bringing the stable-master into the matter upped the stakes. Koerich was violent and unfeeling. The perfect incentive, an excellent deterrent to anyone, ogres included. No one who wanted to stay in one piece tangled with the Centaur. He was never in a good mood, enjoyed cracking heads open, was so bad-tempered, Ferguson adored him from the moment she met him. Hard not to when faced with a grumpy half-man, half-horse who didn’t give a shit who she was, or blink at the power she wielded.
He ruled the stables. The innkeeper could go hang if she didn’t like it. End of story, don’t bother him with it, as far as Koerich was concerned.
“Now, thankfully, you didn’t damage my inn with your foolishness,” she said, pausing for dramatic effect. “So, I’m reconsidering my need to kill you.”
Alarm in his colorless eyes, ogre number one swallowed.
His partner in crime took a step back, away from her.
She wanted to laugh. Stifling the urge, Ferguson kept her expression stern, scaring the hell out of them as her eyes glowed, shimmering across their pale skin. The pair bowed their heads in shame. She tapped into her connection with the inn. A map of the grounds appeared on her mental screen, providing a list of all ongoing activities.
“There is a combat circle available in the East Garden,” she said calmly. “I suggest you resolve your differences there.”
Shoulders slumped, the ogres grumbled an apology. Dragging their clubs, the pair trudged toward the exit on the east side of the lobby.
Hiding behind the concierge desk, Ascot popped his head up. Whiskers twitching, a panicked look on his furry face, his ears swiveled back and forth.
A prickle ghosted across the nape.
Strong arms closed around her from behind, enveloping her in warmth. She leaned into the embrace, absorbing his heat, enjoying his scent, loving the way he liked to sneak up on her. Never failed. One moment Kruger was nowhere to be found, the next pressed against her back, holding her tight.
Kissing the shell of her ear, he murmured, “You handled that well, fazleima.”
“It’s not as difficult as it looks.”
“For you, maybe. Anyone else—cracked skulls and screams of pain.”
Listening to guests come out of hiding and go on their way, she turned in his arms. As her eyes met his dark ones, she smiled. “You’re early.”
“No joy tonight, lass.”
“Nothing at all?”
A muscle twitched along his jaw. “Grizgunn’s still hiding. Talked tae some druids in the Cairngorms, but the bastards who planned the attack on you belong tae a splinter group. Radicalized by their leader. Part of a cult now. The Order of the Oak renounced them decades ago.”
“You believe them?”
“Didnae say I wasn’t going tae keep a close watch on the bastards, Fergie. Levin’s all over it. On a fucking rampage.”
Finally, some good news.
An ice dragon with a chilly disposition and murder in his ice-blue eyes, Levin took viciousness to new levels. Anyone with half a brain would take one look, turn tail, then avoid him at all costs. Having him involved boosted her confidence. All right, so the lack of progress so far was frustrating, but beggars couldn’t be choosy. She’d take what she could get. And honestly? Standing in the circle of Kruger’s arms, the getting was pretty damn good.
“What happened at the meeting?” she asked, moving him off a topic that angered him to one that most concerned her.
He shrugged off her question.
Ferguson held firm, refusing to let him off the hook. She understood his reluctance. Really, she did. He was still sensitive about it. Old habits died hard, but allowing him to brush the issue aside wouldn’t work. Ignoring open wounds, burying the hurt, never did. Despite his resistance, Kruger needed to talk about it…often. Until he cleared the air and became more comfortable with the truth.
“How’d the guys take the news?”
He sighed.
She waited, her gaze steady on him, wielding silence like a weapon.
“You’re not going tae let this go, are you, lass?”
“No.”
“Fuck.”
“Start talking.”
A pregnant pause. Thin slices of time piled on top of one another.
He remained stubborn a moment, then gave in and grumbled, “Wallaig was right.”
“Yeah?”
Giving her a squeeze, Kruger dipped his head. His mouth brushed over her cheekbone, ghosted to the edge of her eyebrow, then turned to nuzzle her temple. “None of them give a shite, Fergie. All of them gave me shite, though…especially Cyprus…for thinking my brothers would care who sired me, or where I came from. Vyroth and Tydrin used their fucking fists. Rannock and Levin put me on my arse. I’m never going tae live it down.”
“No doubt for the best.”
His lashes brushed her skin as he blinked. “What?”
“You need reminding.”
“Lass—”
“You do, Kruger,” she said, giving him the words he needed to not only hear, but take to heart. “You are not your sire, handsome…you never were. But the fact you’ve carried that belief around your whole life, burying it deep, letting it fester, keeping your packmates…guys who love you, warriors who would kill to protect you…in the dark speaks volumes. So, yeah. You’re going to need reminding every once in a while to keep you from sliding back into old patterns.”
“Got you for that.”
“Yes, you do.” Fisting her hands in the back of his jacket, she tucked her head beneath his chin. “But a little extra insurance never hurt anyone.”
“Fazleima,” he murmured, tightening his grip on her. A burst of chaotic emotion spiked inside him. She quivered in response. Big hand cupping her nape, he pressed his face into the side of her neck. “Marry me.”
His words jolted through her.
Air stalled in her lungs. “What?”
“I love you, Ferguson. Marry me. Allow me tae claim you in the way of my kind.”
“In a sacred Dragonkind ceremony?”
“Aye.”
“You’ll give me your mating mark?”
“And I’ll wear yers.”
Wonder collided with shock, stealing her oxygen. “Holy crap.”
He grinned.
“Kruger.” Deep yearning opened like a chasm inside her. Instead of turning away like she always did, Ferguson forced herself to look into the abyss. Love and acceptance gazed back. Everything she’d ever wanted. Everything she needed right here, pressed tight against her, holding her in his arms. All she had to do was reach out, grab hold and…