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Aya cringes. She glances at me, then away. Her scent sours with guilt, and she’s earned every bit of it. This day went sideways when she snuck off to play tour guide instead of staying with me like I asked. Now Angie’s walking around with her mouth sealed shut, and my back is shredded. Smoke stings the inside of my nose. I keep all of it to myself in front of Jo.

“Don’t stress him out too much,” Josiah tells her. He jerks his chin at me. “Give the man a break sometimes.”

He stuffs his hands in his pockets and heads for the tree line. He whistles on his way and sings between the notes. “Layla? Oh, beautiful Layla, where are you?” He picks the tune back up and disappears into the woods.

Aya watches him go. “Well. At least I don’t have to figure out how to get you home.”

My wings and scales pull back in. It hurts even worse this way. I plant my feet and ride it.

I’m furious with her, but she knows what’s coming and stands there with her lower lip caught between her teeth. My dragon caves first, and I can’t keep my temper up after that.

“Come on.” She makes for the porch. “Let’s get you inside so I can take care of you.”

She stops on the second step when I call her name. I stay at the bottom. “Why didn’t you tell me the bullying was still happening?”

She keeps her back to me. “It’s not a big deal, Ezra.”

Her scent calls her a liar. Under the warmth I know, there’s an old hurt in it. I ball my hands into fists.

My dragon surfaces with a very specific image of Charity’s coven. I push him back down with a promise.

“I’d rather you just yell at me for leaving,” she says as she turns around. “I’m handling it.”

I get in her face, as close as I can manage with her up on the steps. Smoke curls out of my nostrils and ears.

Her eyes flare. She backs away from me until her shoulders bump the door. “Okay—Ezra⁠—”

I climb up after her and brace a hand on the frame beside her head. Her nerves are all over her scent. My dragon likes her cornered like this way more than he should. “The part where I yell at you for leaving isn’t going anywhere, don’t worry. Right now I want to know exactly how long this has been going on.”

She huffs in my face and stomps inside. I follow.

In the kitchen, she takes her sweet time washing her hands at the sink. She scrubs between every finger and keeps her eyes down. From the fridge, she gets the water pitcher and sets it on the island.

She points at the stairs. “Go to bed.”

I look at her and wait for my dragon to back me up, but the traitor is already on her side. I give up and go upstairs.

She points, I walk. What the hell is wrong with me?

By the top stair, I’m dead on my feet. The anger and stubbornness I’ve been running on since this morning are burned out. I strip down to my boxers and ease onto my back on the bed. The mattress takes the weight off the roots of my wings. My healing skin still itches, but up here I can stand it.

Downstairs, a pan scrapes, and beef hits hot metal with a sizzle. My stomach growls as soon as the smell drifts up. After the kitchen goes quiet, her footsteps climb toward the bedroom.

She comes in with the pitcher and a plate of chopped, seared beef that’s still steaming. She hands me the water first. I sit up and drain most of it in long, cold pulls. She perches on the edge of the mattress and holds out the food.

I take a piece and feed it to her before I touch the rest. Her lips brush my fingers. My dragon rumbles at the sight of my mate eating from my hand. She chews without making a thing of it, but it takes her a second to meet my eyes again. Once I clean the plate, she sets it on the end table and picks at her nails.

“I’m sorry,” she says finally. “I should have listened to you.”

I catch her chin and tip her face up to mine. “I don’t care about you running off, Aya. I care about you sitting through that every day and never saying a word to me about it.”

She gets to her feet and pulls her shirt off. Her bra hits the floor next. She steps out of her pants, then her panties. Now she’s standing at the foot of the bed with the light on her skin. My dragon roars, and I forget what I was going to say.

She pushes back the covers and climbs on top. When she straddles me, her wild-berry scent thickens with want. My dick stands up hard against my boxers. She’s warm everywhere she touches me, with her breasts soft and full on my chest. I sink back and wrap my arm around her. “If this is your way of shutting me up, it’s working.”

She lifts onto her elbows and frowns. “I don’t want you getting involved in my stuff with Charity and her friends.”

I run my hand up her back. Smoke drifts from my nostrils again. “That’s not happening.”