Bael toyed with a bone letter opener that had been lying on the desk. “My standard price for everything is always what would cost the person the most. In this case, it would be the sacrifice of the silver mate.”

“Bah,” Chuan Ren said. “We agree to the price. Take the female and let me go.”

She started to walk to the door just like it was a done deal.

“I do not agree to the price,” Gabriel said swiftly.

Chuan Ren tossed him a crass word.

“You dare call my mate that?” I yelled, suddenly too angry to care if I was being politic or not.

She spun around. “You dare speak to one who is your superior? Begone, before I teach you how to properly address a wyvern.”

“Newsflash—you’re no longer wyvern. Someone else is leading the red dragons.”

“May, that is enough,” Gabriel said, taking my arm and tugging me toward him. He had an odd look on his face, a mishmash of amusement, caution, and wariness.

“What?” I asked him, wondering what that look was about.

His lips quirked. “You yelled. I’ve never heard you yell before.”

“She started it,” I said, pointing at Chuan Ren.

She spat out another word, this time directed at me, and with it, an epiphany came. The anger that had been steadily building within me flashed hot and pure, and before I could blink, I was across the room, slamming Chuan Ren up against the wall, my curved scarlet claws pricking deep into the white flesh of her throat. “I am the mate of the silver wyvern. You dare use that tone with me?”

Answering fire burned in her eyes as silver scales rippled up my hands and arms. She knocked me backwards, but I had a grip on her hair and took her with me, the two of us rolling in a ball of claws, fire, and painful blows.

She cracked my head into Bael’s desk, causing me to roar in fury, fire erupting around us as I whipped my legs around, knocking her down. Her claws flashed silver in the light as she slashed at my face, but I was too fast for her, slamming my fist into her throat. She kicked me in my gut and blasted me with dragon fire. I was about to return the favor when Gabriel, who had been yelling my name, yanked me backwards, out of her grip.

I stood hunched over, panting fire, my entire being focused on destroying the female who threatened my mate . . . and as that thought coalesced in my brain, I froze in horror. What was I doing? I never fought unless it was a matter of life or death. I never yelled—a lifetime spent in Magoth’s service had taught me the wisdom of keeping my temper under control. And now here I was, not only thinking, but acting like a dragon.