Craved by the Dragon (Stonefire Dragons 8)

Teagan raised her brows. "Is that so?"

Even a few weeks ago, Brenna never would've thought to challenge Teagan so freely. However, after being Glenlough's temporary head Protector, questioning Teagan was part of the job description. "Killian doesn't remember who he is and answers to the name because it's the only one we've given him. 'Mine' is almost simpler for him."

Teagan tilted her head. "I hadn't thought of it that way."

She smiled. "You're busy with more than any leader should be saddled with right now. I'll overlook it this once."

Teagan snorted. "I never thought I'd be listening to someone fourteen years my junior."

She shrugged. "Age shouldn't matter as long as the advice or information is sound."

"Once this is finished and you've settled in to your new life here, we need to chat about your long-term role within the Protectors." Teagan turned toward the door. "Come out onto the stage in three minutes, unless I come back. Killian should be waiting for you in the great hall by then." She nodded and Teagan switched her gaze to her grandmother. "Let's go, Gran. Mating ceremonies are always between two people. Not even your personality or surplus of stubbornness will change that."

Orla huffed. "I didn't say I was going to insert myself, did I? I'm starting to think regular sex is addling your brain."

"Gran," Teagan growled in warning.

"Don't worry. I'll have a chat with Caruso later," Orla said dismissively.

"Talking about my sex life with my mate is none of your concern, Gran."

"If you say so," Orla murmured, although her tone belied a different belief.

As the pair left, silence fell, and Brenna almost wished for them to come back. Their banter was familiar and she knew what to expect. It was also a fantastic distraction.

Her beast sighed. It's a mating ceremony, not a hanging.

She ignored her dragon and glanced at the clock on the wall. All that was left to do was count down the seconds until her life changed forever.

~~~

Killian O'Shea stood on the raised dais in front of several hundred people he didn't know and tried his best not to give a fuck.

Seeing as he had no memory of them and only recognized a handful from pictures and recent interactions, it was fairly easy to do.

However, when the female he'd discovered was supposedly his sister returned to the audience and met his gaze, he saw the split second of sadness there.

Concern he didn't understand flooded his body, but he quickly pushed it back. He may be marrying a woman he didn't know in some sort of strange ceremony, but it was his choice. Given how little of that he'd had in the last week, he wasn't about to allow bloody strangers and their emotions to interfere with his decision.

Besides, mating Brenna meant she'd have to stop avoiding him. He'd been dreaming of the female all week, wondering what her smaller frame would feel like under him.

True, he'd agreed to mate her to keep her around. Brenna was the only one who didn't try to force the past on him. He'd long given up cursing clan members who thought yelling or pushing a picture closer to his face would return his memories.

As bitter as he was, he looked forward to seeing a friendly face every day.

It was then that he noticed Brenna Rossi emerging from a side entrance, wearing a simple, flowing dress and everyone else faded away. The red material made her olive skin tone more beautiful, if that were possible.

Perusing her body, he nearly growled at how the material clung to her curves and valleys. Her hips were made to be gripped and held in place as he took her from behind.

And her tits would fit perfectly into his hands.

As much as he would enjoy staring at her fine arse every day, the cocking of one eyebrow reminded him of why he'd agreed to this. She didn't hold back with questions or arguments, or try to convince him of who he should be.

Strange as it was, Brenna accepted him as is. He was angry and lost with everyone else, but not her. With the English woman, he forgot to remember his amnesia and complete lack of memory. He simply lived in the brief moments.

He resisted a frown. Bloody hell. He was turning into a philosophical idiot.

Clearing his throat, he raised his own eyebrow and Brenna rolled her eyes. He would goad her further if not for the room of strangers. Her cheeks flushed when she was angry, and it was easier to focus on that than on the rest of the world, let alone his own future.