I tried to calm the gorge rising within me, but my repulsion must have been evident, for when Savian turned back around he burst into laughter. ‘‘Good lord, woman, you look like you’ve been asked to do the most heinous things imaginable to babies. I take it you’ve had a change of heart about your offer?’’

I slumped into one of the three wooden chairs, which, along with a small table, were the room’s only furnishings. ‘‘I’m sorry. I thought I could do it, but I just can’t.’’

Savian looked thoughtful for a moment. ‘‘Is it me? Or are you in love with the wyvern?’’

‘‘I’m not in love with anyone,’’ I muttered, my forehead resting on my hands as I hunched over the table, unsure of whether I should cry or laugh at the ludicrous situation I found myself in.

‘‘Then it’s me? You don’t find me . . . dashing? Attractive, in a roguish sort of way? Kind of a cross between Han Solo and MacGyver?" Savian asked, a note of worry in his voice.

I looked up, a smile twitching my lips. He looked almost devastated. ‘‘No, you’re very Han Solo. It’s just . . . well, I did promise to be Gabriel’s mate, and I know it’s silly to take fidelity seriously these days, but I guess I’m just one of those people who is faithful whether they want to be or not.’’

He was silent for a moment, then nodded. ‘‘He’s a lucky dragon. Was there anything else you wanted to try to bribe me with? Or was that it?’’

‘‘That’s it,’’ I said, wiping back a few tears of hilarity that had squeezed out of my eyes.

‘‘Ah, well. Perhaps another time you might have a priceless gold treasure hidden upon your lovely person.’’

My gaze shot to his, but he was already back at the door, calling for the official.

‘‘This won’t take—’’

Suddenly he was jerked out of the door. I leaped up, racing for freedom, but shrieked when the doorway was suddenly filled with a large, hulking man with dirty dark hair, shrewd eyes, and a wicked-looking scar that started beneath his eye and curved down to his earlobe. ‘‘—long,’’ the man said, his lips curling up in a smile as he clamped one hand around my wrist, my bones protesting as he yanked me out the door after him.

‘‘Who the hell are you?’’ I asked, trying desperately to free myself. To the right I saw a small group of people bent over a prone form, one person on a radio obviously calling for medical aid. ‘‘And what did you do to Savian?’’