“My face feels like it’s been blasted by dragon fire. “How would you like this to go?” Dain asks me as Narelle glances among the three of us, her silver brows knitting. “Just like it’s gone for the last eighteen months,” Xaden answers, losing any and all trace of the niceties he showed Dain an hour ago. “Everyone assumes she’ll wind up with you, but it’s my last name she ends up wearing on her flight jacket in formation.”
