Daisy sat bolt upright. “Don’t say it!”
“Harriet!” Wynona finished. Harriet was Daisy’s mother-in-law.
Daisy absolutely adored her, but nobody could deny that Harriet was an interfering busybody when it came to her family. She’d been so eager to make sure that Ryker found the right mate and gave her grandcubs that she had nearly ruined Ryker’s courtship. She had followed Daisy and Ryker around all over pack property, crashing his seduction attempts and generally making a nuisance of herself.
Daisy skewered her aunt with a narrow-eyed glare. “I. Will. Get. You. You’d better sleep with one eye open, woman. There will be revenge.”
“Well, I guess I’m doomed, then. You know where to find me.” Wynona turned on her computer and made a big show of ignoring Daisy. Then she glanced back up at her. “Do you need help getting up?”
“No, I do not.” Daisy grabbed the arm of the couch and used it for leverage. She climbed to her feet with wounded dignity, and no small amount of grunting and groaning. “I am coming back here with Cadence, and we will at least discuss having her set up an account here. You’ll see I’m right.”
“Sure thing, Dirty Harriet,” Wynona muttered as Daisy stalked out.
“I heard that!” Daisy yelled, and let the door slam shut behind her.
* * * * *
Orion glared at the pile of rare steaks in front of him and ignored the stares of the other diners. He knew that his choice of meal gave away what kind of shifter he was.
He was at the most expensive restaurant in Cedar Park, and he had just ordered ten filet mignons, with a side of twenty bread baskets. That said two things about him. One, he was able to afford to drop a couple thousand dollars on lunch. Two, he had an immense appetite; dragons needed to eat a lot to fuel their flame.
The diners were sneaking peeks that were a mix of fear and fascination. He had the ability to turn into a beast that was twenty feet long, and enough firepower to scorch a city block with one breath. So yeah, some humans and animal shifters were understandably a little nervous around dragons.
But not all.
He saw several women glancing his way speculatively. He ignored them, and to ensure that they didn’t approach him, he picked up a filet mignon with his hands and shoved it into his mouth, tearing into it with his teeth and devouring half of it in one gulp.
Unfortunately, that didn’t work to discourage two women in body-hugging cocktail gowns, who were striding towards him from the bar.
A brief glance showed that they were dressed to the nines and glaring hatred at each other.
He didn’t have to inspect them any further to see that they had dollar signs in their eyes. They looked at him and saw a very appealing sugar daddy. Dragons were legendary for their sexual appetites and also, of course, for their treasure hoards.
When they got closer to the table, he picked up his steak knife, stabbed it into a hunk of meat, and held it up for a brief moment before tearing into it.
Not even that discouraged them.
“Get away from him, whore, he’s mine,” the brunette snarled at the blonde.
“Gold-digging bitch.”
“Slut. I’ll cut you.”
As luck would have it, they were both cat shifters. The two started circling each other, claws out.
He glanced at them as he chewed, mildly curious to see what would happen next.
Fortunately, the maître’ d hurried up and chased them both off. He returned his attention to the plate in front of him.
Once upon a time, he’d dated that type of woman, to fill the emptiness inside him. It had satisfied both his superficial needs and theirs; he’d draped expensive baubles on them, and they’d helped to temporarily slake the ache that he felt deep inside.
Not anymore.
Orion was old. He was one hundred and fifty, although he looked no older than thirty. The craving for a life mate, a dragon to fly beside him, was bone deep now. That and dragonlings.
Unfortunately, modern technology had proved to be hell on dragons. Pesticides, air pollution, water pollution, GMO crops…dragon eggs these days had such thin shells that few survived all the way to their hatching. And many dragon women suffered from low fertility. It took them years to conceive, and when they did, their hatchlings didn’t make it.
He had finally accepted the bitter truth, that he was not going to have both – he wouldn’t find love and a fertile female dragon who could carry his eggs.
That was what he had tried to convey to the woman at The Mating Game. He didn’t need love. He wanted a woman who could successfully bear his eggs to term. She didn’t even necessarily have to stick around to raise them afterwards; if she wasn’t maternal, he’d raise his dragonlings himself, and the woman would be very well compensated for her trouble.