“Pissed is the term you’re looking for,” Kit snapped.
What was worse than pissed? Because he was there. Oh boy
was he there. How dare they hide this? How fucking dare they. Didn’t
they think this was something he needed to know? It only affected his damn life
after all. Kit was a human. They were dragons. They weren’t even the same
species!
Reading about fated mates in paranormal romances was one
thing. Nothing was hotter than a snarly bad boy who was all protective and
shit. Getting slapped in the face with it was something else entirely. And he
had two of them—mates, that was.
Did they think his little human brain couldn’t handle it?
Were they trying to—and hear him out here—protect him? Clue him in gently so he
wouldn’t worry his pretty little head?
Oh, hell no. He was not some damsel in distress. This was
one time he wished he was a paranormal so he could flash some fang and
do a snarly growl at them.
Instead all he could do was grit his very human teeth and
not shake them silly. Not to mention, getting his ass yanked into some weird
vision thingy by a deity was not helping his mood either.
