Dragon VIP: Pyrochlore (7 Virgin Brides for 7 Weredragon Billionaires Book 3) by Starla Night

Author:Starla Night [Night, Starla]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-03-18T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

I’ll introduce you later.

Hearing those callous, dismissive words from Amy was an unwelcome echo from the past. It killed the buzz he’d been feeling just moments before.

She couldn’t know that those were the exact words his first wife had pushed on him to wreck their marriage.

Anyway, this time, maybe it would be true. Amy was human. Humans didn’t care about dragon hierarchy. Aristocrats or low caste. She’d said so.

He chose to believe her.

Amy stroked his stubbled cheek.

Pyro caught her hand and pressed a kiss to the palm.

The soft brush of his teeth made her startle. His incisors had started to change to partial fangs as he’d lost control.

But instead of fearing or rejecting him, she snuggled him nearer.

He wrapped her in his warm, safe arms. With an absentminded blanket pulled over them, she dropped off to sleep.

Pyro expected to sleep, too. He was exhausted enough.

But he didn’t.

A deep unsettling feeling lay on his chest.

Amy had given him a great treasure. Her trust. He needed to be the kind of honorable male who deserved it.

That meant no more dicking around.

You always said the rules of Draconis were the ones holding you back.

When he was absolutely certain she was out, he eased from her embrace and showered. His brain raced a hundred miles a minute. Normally sex was a pleasant exercise, but this time, it felt like he’d broken loose a whole new outlook.

All thanks to Amy.

Thanks to her, he was free of the rules of Draconis. He was married; the Empress would have to move on. Hopefully to torture another family. One who would welcome the blessing of elevation to aristocratic status.

His hatred — and Mal’s — of the entire aristocracy was unusual, honestly. Most dragons would claw their dearest ones’ eyes out for the chance to serve the Empress, much less marry her. So, let the “honor” go to one of the dragons who coveted it.

Which left saving his company.

He dried and dressed. Not in his usual jeans and tee. He put on a business suit and opened the files of Carnelian Clothier reports. Sales intel from Alex. Financial profiles from Amber. Spy notes from Kyan.

Sure, he’d glanced at them before. Long enough to confirm that his biases were correct. They worked twice as hard as the aristocrats for half the advantages. But this time, Pyro read the reports for a different reason.

Ammunition.

Whatever Sard was planning, Pyro would go into their meeting the way he had gone into engagements — skirmishes — in the Colony Wars. With the clear-sighted awareness that the enemy hated him, wanted to destroy him, and was prepared to use any method to do so. Recklessness had gotten him out of situations where caution and fear would have gotten him killed. But it had been a certain kind of recklessness. He hadn’t thrown himself into the line of fire just to brave a barrage of bullets. He’d done it to take out a tactical target, escape a death-spreading laser, or thwart an ambush.

Calculated risks backed up by solid intel.

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