“Zenner, you can move her if you want to. And make sure she doesn’t drool on you.” Antony kept his voice low and moved to shift the sleeping woman off his business partner.

“Don’t worry about it, Tony. I like her.” He lifted Ary off the couch and draped her across his lap. She murmured lightly and then squirmed until she was comfortable and he was hard as a rock.

“You can’t be serious. You don’t mean you like her?”

“I do. She has all the qualities I enjoy and enough power to satisfy my family.”

“But you just met her five minutes ago.” He was whispering but almost shrieking at the same time.

The wolves did like to get upset over the small things. Zenner rubbed his finger down the back of Ary’s cheek and smiled as she frowned. Her skin was like a baby’s, porcelain against the dark chestnut of her hair and brows. Her thick lashes formed crescents on her cheeks but didn’t quite cover the dark circles under her eyes.

“Devora, how long has she been travelling? She looks exhausted.”

“She is always on the road. I don’t think she has a home anymore. The clan keeps her so busy that she just drives from assignment to assignment, collects her fees, then moves on. I have spoken to Charles about it, but she is his daughter and he will use her has he sees fit.”

“She isn’t a shifting were?”

“No. She is a throwback to one of our ancestors. She is bound to serve the clans with the only talent she has.”

“Bound how?” If it was a charm, perhaps it could be broken.

“By honour, I suppose? Blood maybe?”

Devora was looking a little confused, so Zenner stopped his queries. He would have a few days to woo the woman curled against him so trustingly and if she ran, he would simply hunt her down and make her his own.

If there was one thing a dragon learned to trust after a few centuries, it was his instincts and all of Zen’s were telling him that Arabel was designed for him alone.