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Synda’s voice squeaked on the last word.
    “They were unwearable.” He traced a finger along the curve of her shoulder.
    “Okay.” Remember what Daddy said. Be calm. Dragons could be emotional. Just out think the bastard. She cleared her throat. “What am I supposed to wear now?”
    A slight smirk lifted his lips. “You don’t really need any clothing, and I’m sure I can provide you with anything else you think you might want.”
    Synda thought hard, they couldn’t have done anything. She’d been cold, not drunk, and liquor never affected her to the point she forgot things. No, she’d definitely remember playing with Kirill all night.
    She matched his smile. “Why are you beasts so arrogant?”
    “Thousands of years of superiority?” He shrugged.
    “Urgh.” She pushed up, snatching the sheet to wrap around herself.
    Swinging her legs off the bed, she placed her feet flat on the floor and shivered when the chilly air traveled up her legs. Finally, she could study her surroundings. At the far end of the bedroom, a large fireplace cut into the rock wall, big enough for her to walk into standing up. Ashes coated its bottom and soot covered the walls. Dying embers glowed orange against the dark hearth.
    Sconces dotted the walls every few feet. A few were lit and candlelight danced behind the glass shades. On the other side of the room were logs, huge with smooth trunks locked together by weight and time. Two massive chairs, upholstered in leather, flanked the fireplace and a thick fur rug lay between the heavy furniture pieces. A trunk served as a coffee table, rounding out the rustic setting. The only art in the room hung above the mantel. It was an embroidered coat of arms depicting two dragons, one black the other white, locked in battle or lovemaking. Their arms raised toward each other and their tales intertwined. In the background, the sun was eclipsed by the moon and strange words she’d never seen completed the picture at the bottom.
    He wrapped an arm around her and she felt the heat from his body caress her back. Kirill pressed his lips to her neck before whispering in her ear. “ Kog daa f syaw gee bel plaam ya oo tse lyeats .”
    She leaned forward glancing over her shoulder. A lock of his black hair brushed her chin. “Is that what the picture says? What does that mean?”
    Kirill straightened. “When everything dies. Fire survives.”
    Synda swallowed. “You do realize I will fight you. I can’t be mated.”
    “If you’re trying to lull me into a false sense of well-being, you’re failing miserably.”
    “I’m being honest. First chance I get, I will run or kill you. Whichever is easier.”
    “If no one has managed to kill me this long, slaa dast , I don’t think I have to be too worried about you succeeding. As for mating, well, a challenge is expected.” He maneuvered his body and sat next to her on the mattress. “Tell me something.”
    Synda pushed the dense tresses of her hair behind her ear. “Fair enough. Okay, one question before I find a way to slit your throat.”
    His bark of laughter made her jump.
    “Well? Isn’t that protocol? A male dragon must make his mate submit to him, establish his dominance. ” She tilted her head.
    “It would be if you were dragon. Which brings me to ask—What are you?”
    She sputtered. Unsure if she should be offended or take the opportunity to talk her way out of the predicament she was in. He was too sexy to cut. She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth. The only dragon males she ever spent any time with were friends of her father’s, old men. She’d never dealt with a virile male dragon in his prime. Hell, she was a cop trained to negotiate with people. Now was the time to utilize that training. She rose and walked toward a chair to put some space between them.
    “I’m human, which is why I can’t understand why you would take me.”
    He slid off the bed, and for the first time she noticed the pajama bottoms he wore. Dark plaid