Page 9 of Cursed with the Dragon Prince
Once he sees I’m satisfied, he picks up the salve and bandages. He rubs the medication into my feet, and gently massaging, he spreads the salve across the wounds.
He glances up at me, checking that I’m okay, and I nod my approval. I’m no longer ticklish, the pressure of his hands now reassuring.
I watch him work. His red and gold scales catch the light, his chest chiseled and firm. His abs shift as he moves, and I follow the line of them, my eyes dipping to the waistband of his pants. I blush, my mind wandering, wondering what he might have hidden there…
Because everywhere else, he is much more than a man—heisn’tone. He’s a dragon fae. Like my birthmark, he’s scaled.
He has no need for shoes, not with those roughened feet, and yet from the tender way he cares for mine, my softness feels seen.
He appraises my feet with a final inspection, and pleased, he reaches for the bandages. Slow and steady, he wraps my feet. He asks if it’s too tight or too loose, but beyond that simple feedback, we do not speak.
As he works, I stare at his arched ears, the perfect oval of his face coming to his sharp jawline. His short dark hair is thick and healthy. His nostrils are elongated, reminiscent of his dragon form.
Eventually, he’s satisfied.
He offers me more water, then food. I accept both.
I’m not used to being coddled, and I fight the instinct to protest. The way he handles me, like I’m the most precious treasure, stops me. With him, it feels safe to surrender.
My body is not well. I need help.
I should be terrified. I’ve been thrown overboard and left for dead. And I know there’s a dragon within him, one that rushed me on the beach. One that clawed against stone when I hid in the cave.
I know he’s dangerous, and maybe it’s foolish, but I’m not scared.
He picks me up, helping me into the nest, and he pulls the blankets over me, checking that I’m supported by the pillows.
“Sleep,” he says, standing over me.
He steps away, taking a seat at the edge of the dais.
I’m tempted to protest, to ask him to stay close, but I’m too tired to speak. I wrap the blanket around me, close my eyes, and drift away…
Drakon
She sleeps. Her chest rises and falls. She shivers. If I crawled into her nest, I could wrap my body around her—I would keep her warm.
I cover her with another blanket instead.
Her feet were so soft, her body vulnerable. When I cleaned her feet, every moment was my apology. If I hadn’t lost control and chased after her, maybe she wouldn’t have fled, running through a rough cave on such tender soles. I hope to win her forgiveness.
She should be more afraid of me.
Kaliyah insisted on leaving me with her. She made it clear that until morning, Reina is my responsibility—the elder trusts me more than I trust myself.
Now I’ve done what I can to encourage the human’s recovery. Food and drink. Cleaned wounds and bandages.
I apologize through my actions because I don’t know how to speak to her. She shares my language, yes, but she is not of my world. She is a human woman, likely one who has never visited the isles. My clan barely accepts me—how could this woman understand?
Word of her arrival would have leaked by now. Someone would have smelled her, realized a human was on our shores.We need her, desperately, but I’m hesitant to expose this delicate female to the maws of my dragon clan.
My rush caused enough damage.
Tomorrow, the clan will arrive for breakfast, and Kaliyah will present Reina with the Maledictum, its petals lava-red and thorns dangerous green. Tomorrow.
I can’t protect her forever.
But for now, she sleeps. For now, she’s protected.
