"You are human. Soft. Breakable. His dick carries the same fire that comes from him. It burns. It will burn you from the inside. Human wives have died trying to take less than him."
My appetite packed a bag and left the country. Across the table, Sheba watched me with her perfect little smile. Not shocked. Not offended. Waiting. She wanted me afraid.
The ring warmed on my finger. I put the fork down slowly.
"Wow."
The Ashvale lord blinked. "Wow."
"I've had bank managers scare me better than that."
His smile faltered. I leaned back in my chair even though my heart was sprinting.
"But thank you for your concern about my sex life. It's weird as hell, but noted."
This time, the laughter was louder. Malachi turned his head sharply, catching the end of it.
"What was said?"
"Dinner conversation," I said.
His eyes moved to Ashvale. The lord suddenly found his wine fascinating. Malachi's expression went cold. I touched his sleeve under the table. Just two fingers. He stilled.
"Not here," I murmured.
His gaze dropped to my hand. Then he breathed once and let the room live. For now.
By the time dinner ended, I was exhausted, angry, and 90% sure dragons used etiquette as a murder weapon. Sheba passed me near the archway. Close enough that her perfume touched my throat.
"You handled yourself better than expected," she said.
That almost sounded like a compliment. It was not.
"Good. I was worried."
Her gaze flicked to Malachi behind me. "You are amusing now. Court likes amusement. It tires of it quickly."
Then she was gone, gathered into a circle of lords like a flame taking its own air. I watched her go.
"She has influence," I said.
Malachi stood beside me. "Yes."
"You should have mentioned she basically owns half the room."
"I thought it obvious."
I looked at him. He sighed. "I am learning that word causes trouble."
"Fast learner."
We returned to his chambers in silence. Not peaceful silence, the kind with teeth in it. The second the door closed, I turned around.
"Does your dick burn?"
Malachi froze. He actually froze. His face went blank in a way I'd never seen before.
"What?"
"Your dick," I said, because if I had to be traumatized at dinner, he had to suffer with me. "Does it burn?"
He stared at me. Then he laughed. Not a little sound. Not that almost smile he kept rationing like joy cost taxes. He laughed for real, deep, rough, beautiful. It rolled out of his chest and filled the room, and for one stupid second I forgot I was mad because he looked cute and hot and entirely too pleased with himself.
Then I remembered the part where I'd been scared to death.
"It is not funny," I snapped.
He tried to stop laughing. Failed once. Then dragged a hand over his mouth, eyes still bright. "Who told you this?"
"Some smoky old bastard at dinner asked if I could manage your heat, then whispered that because I'm human, I couldn't manage your dick because it burns like your fire and it would burn me to death."
Malachi's amusement vanished. "Name?"
"No."
"Belinda?"
"No, I am not giving you a dinner homicide as a nightcap."
His jaw flexed. I pointed at him. "Answer the question."
He moved toward me. I moved back. Not because I wanted to escape exactly, because the room suddenly felt smaller and he looked too large in it.
"Why are you afraid?" he asked.
"I just told you why."
"You asked because you believed there may be a reason to know."
My back touched the wall. He stopped in front of me, one hand braced beside my head. Not trapping me exactly, but making a hot cage out of his body. My breathing changed.
"Traitor."
His gold eyes lowered to my mouth. "Do you have any hope of us [ __ ], Belinda?"
Heat rushed through my face so fast I almost forgot English. "I— I cleared my throat. That is a very aggressive follow-up question."
"It is an honest one."
My fingers curled against the wall. "Maybe I wanted information. Maybe."
His voice dropped. "They did not completely lie. Dragon bodies run hotter. Arousal makes it worse. Fire answers blood, breath, hunger. With me, because of what I am, the heat can be intense."
My throat went dry.
"But it does not kill," he said. "Not if the dragon has control. Not if he cares whether the woman beneath him is pleasure drunk or in pain."
I swallowed. "And you have control?"