She raised a sculpted brow above the sunglasses’ rim. “I assume there is a bridge?”
He grinned. “Not sure you’d want to swim the river,” he noted.
She wrinkled her nose. “Dragons do not swim.”
“At all?”
“By choice. We can, sort of, but why?”
“You do bathe, though.”
“That’s different. A soak in nice, warm water is soothing, and a hot shower can be stimulating.”
Okay, he didn’t really need that imagery. He choked on his toast.
Aria eyed him. “You all right?”
Lucas swallowed. “Yeah, I’m good.” He glanced at her plate. “You almost ready to roll?”
“Roll?”
“Get going.”
“Oh. Yes, almost.” She speared the last bit of sausage with a vigor that had him wincing, and sucked it between her lips...
Bloody hell.The woman was sex on a stick, and she had no idea. Lucas wasn’t sure even the cloak could disguise what was going on, so he kept himself awkwardly angled away from her.
Aria frowned at him. “You sure you’re okay?”
If he believed in a god, he’d be taking his name in vain. “I’m fine.” He bent—a little more carefully than usual—and added her now empty plate to his. Dumping them both in the nearby bin, he turned back to her.
She’d pulled the cloak aside to dust crumbs off her chest. The tiny red scales clothed her to her neck, but they did little to hide the luscious curves, and only reduced the quiver to a minimum as her hands passed over her breasts.
Grimacing, Lucas turned away and met the gaze of the man sitting near them. The poor human was almost drooling. He raised his eyes to Lucas, and they widened.
Lucas might not be a big guy, but the rage that flooded him radiated menace. His eyes were not quite human, but he’d given his shades to Aria, because hers were worse. He decided that he didn’t care that it was freaking the guy out.
The human blanched and engrossed himself in his book.
“Ready to—uh—roll?” Aria had come up behind him.
“Yeah.” His voice broke, and he cleared his throat. “Let’s roll.”
* * *
Nikolai’s father’s name was Galeran.
The Bellatis escorted Nikolai to a cave deep in the woods. Some remained in their animal form, but Galeran and his personal escort paced ahead of them as humans.
Not just any humans, though. Galeran himself stood close to seven feet in height, and the Bellatis accompanying him weren’t far off it. Although their features differed, each one could have been stamped from the same mold. Not a scrap of excess flesh existed anywhere on them. They rippled with muscle and moved with fluid grace.
Their animal halves might eat grass, but it was clear their human sides had fangs. Or fang, singular. From belts at their waist dangled long, thin spiral swords. The pommels were smooth and lacked the razor teeth of the blade itself. Nikolai eyed them, and wondered which version had killed his mother—the living horn, or what was cast off when they took to their human half.
Now Nikolai noted that they might be tied into the great balance, but they nevertheless did not achieve it within themselves. Instead, they represented a darker half to the greater whole—something designed to mesh with the female Liberi energy.
Warrior and healer. The two existed in harmony, so long as they made the effort to do so. But Nikolai detected that these Bellatis were not content. Undercurrents of anger swirled through them, an emotion held in abeyance by the most powerful of their kind.
Galeran. Nikolai’sfather.
