Chapter Twelve

Chloe

The bearded asshole spun as Silas revealed himself, the single braid of hair whipping around and nearly catching me in the face. I ducked out of the way, managing to avoid everything but a slight glancing blow on my chin.

"Silas!" the asshole exclaimed.

I watched as his body language changed. He stiffened in surprise, then dropped much of the puffed-out macho attitude he'd been throwing in my direction.

"Hello, Mattias." Silas' snarled reply was a physical thing, slamming into the smaller dragon-man and threatening to drive him back a half step.

I slid to the side just in case, but it didn't happen. Whoever the jerk was, he was made of slightly sterner stuff than that.

"Listen, Silas, I didn't know she was with you. I—"

"And how would you when your first instinct was to run her over because you thought she was beneath you? Is that how we treat our people?" Silas continued in the same harsh tone.

"She's not one of us," Mattias spat.

Silas loomed closer. "You didn't know that at first. I was right here. Don't pretend like I didn't hear the entire thing. That's not the way we treat our own, Mattias. You might be new to this, but there are rules that are to be followed, and that is one of them."

Mattias bristled so fiercely I could see it from behind, the swelling of his chest as he inhaled, the slight tilt of his neck. He was furious.

"No," Silas said simply. "Just don't. If you utter one word, I will see to it you realize just how precarious your position is."

I expected the air to go out of Mattias at the threat, for him to back down and grovel. Well, maybe not grovel, he was a dragon after all, but to at least act properly chastised.

Instead, he laughed.

"The time is coming, Silas, when our positions will be reversed. Be careful who you step on."

Then he was gone, down the steps and out onto the street without another word. I caught Silas' eye. "You going to go after him?"

"No," he said easily. "Good riddance."

"Just letting him get the last word like that?"

Now it was Silas' turn to laugh. "I'll be well and dead before Mattias' dream ever comes true, I promise you that. He knows he was out of line."

"You don't think maybe you pushed a little too hard? Or is that what it means to live among dragons?"

Silas grunted a negative, jerking his head for me to go inside. He followed closely, straying into my personal space in a way that made me dream of him stepping up and wrapping his hands around my waist. Pulling me back against him and—

"Oh, my," I said, my dirty thoughts interrupted by the wave of bright, shiny clothing arrayed in front of me in a number of colors. "Now, that's pretty."

I had worn all sorts of outfits over the years. From designer dresses and handbags to scraps of clothing that shed all hint of modesty and everything in between. Usually more of the rags than the riches. But I definitely preferred the fancy life.

"Jennsen has the best selection," Silas said. "If we can't find anything here, then you're the problem."

"Trust me, we're going to have no problems!" I exclaimed leaning against his side with a laugh. "It's all so pretty."

It wasn't until I was pulling away from him I realized what I'd done. It wasn't planned or purposeful as part of my cover. At the moment, the contact and closeness felt natural. Had been natural. I'd wanted to do it.

"They look similar," I remarked as my gaze ran along the racks.

"Most of them are glanis. Traditional wear of women," Silas explained, pulling one at random and showing me how it worked and was worn.

"Lots of skin showing," I said. "Are you sure this is normal? You aren't just trying to get a glimpse of my legs?"

One half of Silas' mouth curved upward in the most wicked smile I'd seen on him yet. "If that's what I wanted, I think I could find another way to make it happen," he purred, eyes ablaze.

My mouth dried, and I struggled to find a response to such a blunt, insinuating comment. Had we crossed some sort of barrier I wasn't aware of? A line we'd both been tiptoeing along had just been breached. How did I respond?

The fact his words could muddle my brain and turn me into a statue despite all my training was saved by the approach of an older man. He still stood tall and proud, perhaps an inch below Silas' towering height, but there was a little stoop to his shoulders, and he moved slower and without the stalking grace most of the dragons I'd seen to date possessed.

"Jennsen," Silas exclaimed, stepping forward to embrace the elder dragon affectionately. "Good to see you."

"And you, Silas." Jennsen turned his eyes on me, deep pools of royal blue with a surprising alertness to them. His body might be slowing, but his mind was still razor sharp, I could see it.

One thing I'd become good at over the years was reading people. I made a note to work on doing the same with dragons and learning how they were different. It was a skill that had proved invaluable dozens of times over, and I had no doubts it would be double with dragons.

"What have we here," the shop owner said as he looked me over from head to toe. Unlike when Silas did it, his gaze was all professional. "A human? I'd heard rumors but …" He looked sharply at Silas.

"She needs to be properly dressed," Silas said.

Jennsen grinned at the free rein implied in his tone. Without asking permission, he stepped up to me, looking my body over with the analytical experience of someone who had done it a million times. His gray hair bounced left and right as he examined me from all angles.

"This one," he said, reaching through some outfits and pulling out one at seeming random. It was a deep purple that lightened ever so slightly in swirling waves, a pattern that repeated itself around the outfit, vertical instead of horizontal.

"It's beautiful."

"Of course it is, dear," Jennsen clucked, hangers clinking as he dug in, making noises of approval or disdain. Eventually, he pulled out a second number. It had more ripples in the fabric and more fabric as well, giving it a slightly poofier look. The blue was even throughout, a dark navy number that nonetheless still shone in the light.

He proceeded to pick out several other numbers for me, including a beautiful forest green, a black that screamed little black dress to my untrained eye, and finally, after being told by Silas I needed one "to wear to Aram's tonight," a crimson red that had a longer train than most. As I looked closer, I could see tiny lines of black swirling across it, giving it a hidden layer of depth.

"Wow. It's beautiful. Should I try it on?"

Jennsen gasped, but before he could explode, Silas stepped forward, resting an arm on the dragon's shoulder. "She's never worn these before, Jennsen. She's not questioning your fitting abilities."

Shaking himself, Jennsen calmed. "Right, of course. This way, please."

I raised an eyebrow at Silas, but he just shook his head, smiling from ear to ear. I was ushered into a large room with a curtain door, where I proceeded to try on the first outfit. Initially, I reached for the green one, but then decided that was a mistake. It was time to make an impression.

Recalling Silas' vague descriptions of how to wear it, I picked up the glani and found the hole for my head. It draped down over my body, falling to the floor where several inches pooled at my feet. Feeling strangely vulnerable at the foreign nature of the outfit, I took my time placing the loops over my body. They hugged tight to my hips, pinning the garment—which mostly consisted of two layers of fabric at the front and back and nothing at the sides besides the loops—to my side, while the second set covered my chest.

It felt unnatural with my bra on, so I took it off. The material was unbelievably soft.

"What are these made of?" I asked, trying to figure it out.

"Trade secret, my dear," Jennsen called back. "Are you about ready for your debut now?"

I laughed at his impatience. "Coming, darling," I trilled and pulled the curtains aside, stepping forward carefully to avoid tripping and falling.

Judging by the looks on both their faces, it wouldn't have mattered. Jennsen was beaming with pride at his choice of outfit, while Silas worked to pick his jaw up off the floor.

"It looks okay?" I teased, twirling just fast enough to spin the bottom of the glani off the floor. I was showing all sorts of leg and skin, but I didn't care. The glani had a strange way of building confidence. Or perhaps it was the stares of the two dragon men as they admired the human in front of them.

"You could say that," Silas choked out. "You're going to be getting all sorts of looks tonight."

"What is tonight, by the way? Who or what is Aram?"

"A party," he said, still staring at me, his eyes wider and with an intensity I'd only seen a few times before.

"A party?"

"Sure. A gathering. Some of the people we need to talk to will be there."

I fought down a flare of nerves. One afternoon of prep work on life among dragons didn't seem like enough to me. Humans, I knew. Humans, I could adapt and go with the flow. I knew the cultures of where I worked. I studied it all ahead of time.

Dragon society was different. I didn't know anything, and I was being thrust into the dragon's den, pun intended.

Think of the intel you'll be exposed to while there. They'll be talking freely. Something might slip out.

Properly refocused, I turned to look at myself in the mirror. It was a gorgeous outfit, I had to admit. It fit perfectly, and the color suited me well.

In the mirror, I watched Silas as he continued to stare, his eyes only for me, a hunger growing in them. Just how long would it be before one of us slipped and gave in?

And would that be such a bad thing …?