Tristan MacLeod knocked on the cottage door of Stonefire’s clan leader. When he heard a muffled, “Come in,” he twisted the knob and entered.
Bram Moore-Llewellyn, Stonefire’s clan leader and Tristan’s friend of nearly thirty years, sat behind the old, sturdy oak desk that had been used by leaders of the clan for over a hundred years. It was beat up with more than a few scratches from young dragon-shifters trying out their talons. Tristan thought it looked like shit, but dragons were big on tradition and Stonefire’s clan leader was no exception.
Bram motioned for Tristan to come in and sit in one of the wooden chairs in front of his desk. Shutting the door, Tristan complied.
While he had a feeling he knew what this meeting was about, he asked, “You wanted to see me?”
Bram put aside the papers he’d been reading and looked up at him. “It’s time, Tristan.”
Fuck. “Can’t one of the volunteer males have another turn? Putting me together with a human is a bad idea, Bram, and you know it.”
Bram leaned back in his chair and shook his head. “No. I can’t risk the gene pool getting too small. Neither you nor your sister has had any young, and since you’re the elder, you’re first in line. I hate to be a hardass, but if you refuse to pair with the latest human sacrifice, I’ll have to kick you out of the clan.”
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