His anger awoke my own, clearing the last of the melodic song which the dragon had created inside of me. I struggled against Braxton, needing to stand on my own feet.

Once I was down, I stalked into the vamp’s personal space. He didn’t back away. I only came up to his pectoral muscles, but calling on my wolf brought forth my alpha energy. I was still dominant enough to challenge him.

“Talk to me like that again, Max, and the next conversation we have will be with fang and claws.” Each word rumbled out through bared teeth.

He leaned into me, using his height as a domination tactic. “You’re so frustrating. I goddamn love your stubborn, stupid ass and I can’t stand by and watch you destroy yourself. I don’t know what’s happening to you, but it has to stop.”

He was talking about more than this moment. It was still between us, me lying about the mark and taking off into Vanguard on my own. Some of my anger faded out.

“Max…” It was a warning from Braxton. The vampire snapped his head to the side and locked on his brother.

“You of all supernaturals must agree with me,” Maximus growled.

Braxton’s eyes caressed my features. I noticed the tension in his body, but otherwise he seemed composed. He turned those calm eyes on all of his brothers, but mostly Maximus.

“Jessa wears a dragon mark,” he said. “She’s special. When beings are chosen for something greater than the ordinary … well, there are always risks. We are her pack, we must support her.” He softened his tone. “You fight against change, Max, you always have. But adaption is what we need now. We can still protect her, we just have to identify the new enemy.”

Jacob shook back his white-blond hair. “She just patted a dragon. Where exactly do we draw the line on dangerous activities?”

I threw my hands in the air, annoyance flooding in again. “One: you don’t draw any lines, I do. Two: since when are dragons the enemy? That one wasn’t even dangerous.”

Gerard cleared his throat. “She has a point. As long as we steer clear of their territory, we do not have trouble from the dragons. Although they don’t like being challenged.”

I smirked at Braxton. “Dragons don’t like to be challenged … shocker,” I drawled, my sarcasm alive and well.

The quads exchanged looks, commiserating mostly, but I was used to that. There was no more arguing. The fight was done. Although judging by their resigned expressions, we’d probably revisit this conversation at some point.

We resumed our travels with the cloaks across the sand. I was marching along, my feet slamming into the ground with the same ferocious beat as my heart rate. Which was racing.