The Cambion's Hoard

It was well past lunch and maybe even dinner when I finally woke up. I wanted waffles. Getting up and stretching pulled on my stiff muscles. I wonder if Sly wanted to grab food? The light switch clicked loudly, and I grit my teeth.

Dressing quickly, I hurried downstairs. I checked the time on the clock, and it was later than I had initially thought, well, late for my schedule. Sly would have already eaten at this point. I sighed.

“What’s wrong with you?” Their voice made me jump.

Turning, I saw one of the twins in the living room. “Oh, I wanted to go get food, but my friend will have already eaten.”

He stood up and popped one shoulder at a time. Then, as his arm moved across his chest, the hem of his shirt came up. I knew it was an accident, but it caught my attention. Their pants hung low, and I noticed the slightest hint of gold scales. My breath came in a shudder. I looked away quickly and hoped he hadn’t seen it.

I looked back at him, and his eyebrow was raised. Fuck me. He’d noticed. When guys intentionally flirted, I didn’t see them, but I almost wet myself if it was something naturally attractive.

He smiled, and I could see the mischievousness. He was going to lose me soon. I knew it. Which was odd. I didn’t understand how I would know he was about to flirt. I shouldn’t be able to know he’s going to flirt with me. But, then again, it was the first time I acknowledged that I knew when men were flirting, which was unattractive.

They stopped in front of me and lifted my chin. “I could go with you, doll.”

He was close enough to smell. Thatcher. My lip quirked. Oh, I was not about to let him take control. I snaked my arms around him and ran my fingers down his back.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Have me all to yourself. Henson and Biggs would be so jealous. Tell them you got to watch me eat. Lick crumbs from my fingers. No, I think I’ll call my brother.” Raising to tiptoes, I nosed his neck and inhaled. Pine. Ash and Resin. Golden Scales. He was a Pine Dragon.

Thatcher groaned when I backed away from him. “Rose, you can’t do that, baby.” His words held a whine of pain. Not physical, but sexual.

I smiled. “Oh, but I can. And if you want me to do it again. You better be a good, good boy.”

“Rose...” He looked up from hooded eyes. They gleamed gold.

That look was almost too much. Before I acted on Sly’s words, I needed to get out of here. Instead of turning and leaving myself exposed, I edged away from him. Thatcher moved quickly, quicker than I had anticipated.

Thatcher wrapped his arms around my waist and buried his face in my hair and neck. “Why can’t you finish what you started?”

He was begging. I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him tightly. Wanting him was unexpected, and there had to be a reason.

“Hey, Thatcher?” I didn’t want to let him go.

He rubbed his nose against my neck. “No. You can’t make me.”

Even he didn’t want to let me go. “Thatcher. You have to. We can’t.”

“Said who? Patricia said we can, who said we can’t.”

I stilled. “Patricia? What does she have to do with this?”

He licked my neck, and I shuddered. I needed him to focus. “Thatcher, focus. What did she say?”

He pulled gently on my hair, exposing my neck. “She confirmed something. It was after you slapped me. A fire in my belly I’d never experienced before. Then again, when you told me to back off. I had to fuck Hen hard to get any relief.”

“Thatcher, you’re not making any sense.” I pushed him away and pulled his gaze to mine.

His eyes were hooded and looked to be swirling pools of liquid gold. That gaze pulled me in. There was something I was trying to figure out. Thatcher’s eyes swirled like glitter in alcohol. I pulled his lips to mine. Heat burst through my chest, and I molded myself to him. His lips tasted like the syrup I’d been craving moments before.

Thatcher pulled me tightly against him. His strong fingers kneaded my sides. His strength made me feel safe, wanted, and needed. I didn’t know why that came to mind. But then, he pulled back, and his gaze made me squirm.

“I want your permission before we go farther. You need your question answered. It’s going to scare you.” He squeezed me.

“Thatcher, what did she say, dammit.”

He let out a shuddering breath like he was afraid. “We...She...I’m pretty sure you’re my mate.”