Tristan might’ve grown up the late twentieth and early twenty-first century, but his dragon functioned primarily on instinct. Hunt, fly, fuck, eat. That’s what his beast understood.
While every dragon-shifter learned from an early age how to control their dragons, spending two days with a female who was both fertile and who had caught the eye of his dragon would be the ultimate test of self-control. That was why he’d tried to convince Bram in Mersae, the dragon-shifter language, to let someone else show her around Stonefire’s land tomorrow. However, Bram had been firm and told him to get his dragon under control. If Tristan couldn’t manage to do that, then he wasn’t worthy of a female to birth his children.
An hour ago, he would’ve been happy to give the human sacrifice to someone else. But after feeling Melanie’s soft body pressed up against his, the thought of another male taking her made his dragon roar inside his head. When Bram had taken her hand, he’d barely resisted throwing his friend across the room.
The whole situation was fucked up. Bram was his oldest friend and clan leader, but his dragon didn’t seem to care. It wanted Melanie. Period. Unless he wanted to unleash an angry, snarling dragon on his clan—losing control of his dragon would get him kicked out or worse—passing her off to another male wasn’t an option.
His dragon pushed his way to the front of his mind. The female is ours. Take her. Bond her. Now.
He wrestled the beast back and was barely in control again when Melanie’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Are you going to tell me about tonight’s event?”
He glanced over at her. The sound of her voice calmed his dragon. For once, he was grateful for the distraction of her questions. “What’s there to tell? People will get together, eat, drink, and dance.”
“Is that why you don’t like big get-togethers? Because you have to dance?”
“No.”
She tugged on her elbow but Tristan didn’t release his grip. “Well?”
They were almost to her new dwelling, and he decided talking would keep the human part of him front and center. “I don’t like contained, crowded places. I’m part dragon, and I much prefer the freedom of the skies.”
“But what about airplanes? Or air pollution? I’d imagine flying isn’t as grand as it might’ve once been.”
Keep her talking. I want to hear her voice, his dragon told him. Since they were nearly to the cottage, he decided to listen to his beast. “Even with those things, there’s nothing like using the power of your wings to soar over an ocean, or a mountain, or a forest. Humans must rely on airplanes, cars, and boats to get them from one place to the other, but as a dragon, I can fly anywhere. My wings are my independence.”
He didn’t spoil his little speech by saying he could fly almost anywhere. Certain cities had dragonflight bans, and in some rural areas, dragon hunters waited for their prey; harvesting and selling dragon’s blood on the black market was becoming a big problem.
Thankfully, they arrived at the small stone cottage sitting a little away from the rest, which meant he wouldn’t have to keep talking to her. He nodded his head toward the thatched cottage and said, “This is to be your home while you’re here.” He could hear the females inside. “The human females will answer your questions and bring you to the ceremony.”
She frowned. “And what about you?”
Using the trick of talking to forget about his dragon’s instinct seemed to have backfired. He’d been too nice, and Melanie seemed to have gotten her hopes up about him caring about her. It was time to fix that. “I’m going for a quick flight to rid the stench of human from my nose.”
His dragon roared and said, She doesn’t stink. Stay. Take her. We will scent her.
Shut it.
Tristan ignored the hurt in the human’s eyes. He couldn’t let her like him, or his dragon’s need might overwhelm his own self-control. “Until tonight.”
He turned and left her standing in the dirt. His dragon growled in irritation at the change of Melanie’s scent from one of a soft, warm woman to a hurt, lonely one.
Well, fuck you, dragon. Just because his beast had forgotten that humans had torn apart his family didn’t mean Tristan-the-man had.
He picked up his pace and headed toward the clearing where he could shift and take off. He hoped the flight would clear his head and allow him to get a handle on his dragon again, or the next two days were going to be pure hell. No female had ever affected his beast to the point his dragon demanded things of him, and that scared him a little.
~~~
Melanie watched Tristan walk away and tried not to cry. She’d thought they’d made some progress when he’d told her about not liking confined spaces, or about the freedom of flight. But then he’d gone and said she stank.
Even if her body was attracted to him—and it was—she wasn’t sure her heart could take having sex with him, especially if all he’d do afterward was tear her down again.