Chapter Three

Levi

I uncoiled abruptly, rising to my feet with a swiftness powered by my newfound excitement at what was to come.

Any pistol that had been wavering even slightly came back up with sharp precision. I kept still. Sarah was too close to me. I couldn't risk one of them trying to shoot me through her.

Hendricks noted the tension.

"Steady," he ordered in low tones. "Nobody gets jumpy."

Then he motioned me forward. I found myself at the center of a cordon of beefy Secret Service agents as they escorted me toward what I assumed was the Oval Office.

"Wouldn't it be wiser to do this over phone?" Sarah asked quietly as we walked.

I doubt she knew I could hear her easily.

"You don't think I tried?" Hendricks growled back, clearly unhappy about exposing the president to danger.

I sat back and let myself be ushered into the presence of the most powerful man in the world. At the door, Sarah and her team, including Hendricks, were ordered to remain outside. I wondered why they would deprive themselves of the extra security until the door opened for me.

Beyond a regiment of massive bodies, I thought I could make out the president, but my only clue was the gray cloth of his suit compared to the black of the agents.

It felt a bit excessive.

"Let's go," one of the guards at the door growled, indicating with a thrust of his jaw where he expected me to go. The heavy rifle in his hands—not the pistol that was the common sidearm—didn't waver in the slightest.

Entering the room at gunpoint, I waited while half a dozen mountains of men stepped forward.

"Arms up. Legs apart," the most senior of them snarled at me, not concerned at all with anything resembling decorum toward the representative of the power that had been kicking their ass for the past eight months.

I glanced past him at the president—whose age-lined face was now visible—and arched an eyebrow.

"Manners, Jessop," he murmured. But his heart wasn't in it. After watching so many of his people die to mine, and to be confronted by one of those very same creatures, I could understand his hatred for me.

The guards then proceeded to give me the most thorough patting down I'd ever been subjected to.

"I promise you," I said dryly as one of them went way up my legs to ensure I didn't have something lodged … privately, "I'm unarmed."

"We'll be the judge of that," one of the snapped.

Only my amusement at their determination stopped me from laughing outright. They didn't understand at all. I didn't have anything on me because I was the weapon. Surely, they had to suspect that?

Finally, the suits stepped back.

"He's clean," the one named Jessop said smartly. "But I still don't trust him. We should do this over the phone, sir."

The president shook his head. "We've been over this, Jessop."

"Yes, sir."

I watched the exchange between the agent and the most powerful man in the world without care. Would he still retain that title, I wondered, after the war? His country had been devastated. It seemed unlikely.

"So, you're the one calling himself a dragon." There was no greeting, no false pleasantries. Just straight to business.

My opinion of him went up slightly.

In response, I lifted a hand, letting ruby-red scales flow down it. My fingers slowly turned to claws. A second later, wings burst from my back so abruptly the president's bodyguards flung themselves in front of him and started to shuffle him from the room.

He stopped them when I didn't move and tucked my wings tucked neatly behind me.

"Quite the answer," the president said, shouldering his bodyguards aside.

"I want there to be no doubts," I said, meeting his steely gaze with ease, then shifting it to the men between us.

"They think you're going to try to kill me," he said.

I laughed outright. "Assassination isn't my department. Besides, if I wanted you dead, they wouldn't be able to stop me."

As one of the agents bristled at my disdain for their skills, I decided that antagonizing them would only make things more difficult and began to play peacemaker for real. Lifting a hand, I tried to placate them, letting the scales fade back to skin as they watched. "I mean that not as an insult to your dedication or training, gentlemen. Simply a matter of fact. Genetics, really. I look like you, but I'm not you."

"If you aren't us, then how can we trust you?" the president asked.

I rolled my eyes. "Do you trust a woman less? She has breasts and a vagina, unlike you."

"No, of course not," he said.

"Exactly. You trust them because of what they do , not how they look. I have been nothing but peaceful since revealing myself. Believe what I do , not what I might look like."

The politician across from me took my words in, thought them over, then nodded sharply.

"Very well. You have my attention. What is it you wish to present me?"

I looked around. "Don't you want to summon the rest of your staff? I'm sure there are important people you must appease."

The president shook his head. "I'll hear you out first. Then they'll come in, and you will tell them all."

"So you aren't blindsided in front of them."

He shrugged. "Sometimes appearances have to be maintained. Now, why are you here?"

I crossed my arms. "My sovereign's terms for peace between our peoples."

"Peace would be welcome. Nobody is a fan of war." The president spoke as if it were a given.

"Some of my people are," I said. "I'm sure the same runs in yours. But regardless, I happen to agree. So, it appears, does my sovereign."

"And her terms?"

I smiled, finding myself warming to the man. He wasn't acting like a politician. It was refreshing.

"A ceasefire will go into effect upon your agreement of these terms," I said formally. "It will be considered to last in perpetuity as long as the conditions are fulfilled."

"And those conditions?"

"Condition," I said, stressing the singular.

All I received as an arched eyebrow in return.

"Status quo will be maintained, with peace between humans and dragons, as long as you, the humans, agree to send eight female volunteers per year to come live with us and become mates to dragons."

The president blinked. "That's it?"

I nodded.

"Status quo," he said. "So, you won't return our territory?"

I only looked at him.

"Those are very generous terms. Though many will balk at the continued occupation of territory we claim as our own. What about our people stuck behind the lines?"

"Status quo will be maintained, with peace between humans and dragons, as long as you agree to the term set before you. Take it or leave it."

I wasn't going to repeat myself a third time.

The president stared back, then nodded slowly. He went over to the phone on the desk, and muttered into it, ordering his secretary to get everyone into his office in twenty minutes. Then he turned back to me.

"I hope you don't mind the wait."

I shrugged. "You have two hours."

"And that's all?"

"Not entirely," I said, deciding to enact my plan now.

"Something more to add?" He didn't sound surprised.

"A simple caveat."

"What's that?"

"One of your agents waiting out there. Her name is Sarah Detfield," I said.

"And?" The president waited.

"She must be one of those eight women." I smiled even as my dragon purred with the thought of bringing her home. As a mate. My mate. "That's all. Two hours, Mr. President. The clock is ticking."