The room was decently sized, with a double bed along each wall, separated by twin dressers and a large window.
The first thing I saw was the sword.
It hung over the bed along the far wall. It resembled a Katana sword, long and thin in a scabbard that had been ornate at one time, but much of the gilding had worn off. The hilt was leather-wrapped and weathered. With it was a long knife, hung with the tip in the opposite direction. It shared a stylized metalwork with the larger weapon, as though they were a set.
A sizeable haversack leaned against a dresser. A couple of books—actual hardcovers—lay on the desk. One had a human action figure on the cover.
A bloody big bloke stretched out on the bed, his hands folded with near-perfect precision over his stomach. On top of the covers, rather than within ’em, his impressive body was clothed in a formfitting suit that gleamed when the sun’s dying rays lit upon it.
I inhaled, and my brain connected the dots. I’d only met one once before, but the scent—slightly musky, with an undertone of ozone—was impossible to forget.
He wasn’t wearing a bodysuit. Those were his scales, grown to resemble clothing.
Dragonshifter.
His eyes remained closed, but I doubted he was asleep. He was doing what all his kind loved to do—sun soak.
I didn’t mind that he’d chosen the bed most likely to receive sunlight. I was more a creature of the night, myself. The sun wasn’t obliging him for much longer, though. It had dropped too low in the sky.
Still, it startled me when he spoke in a voice so deep it sounded like it echoed up from a well. “Did she end up on our team?”
How—?I shot a look toward the window. It explained much, facing out the front of the building.
His eyes snapped open. Almost all color, with very little whites showing, they gleamed a deep indigo. “Sensed the gate open,” he admitted.
My stride hitched before my brain connected the dots. With crystal dust in their blood, Dragons were sensitive to anything that tied into life energies—including the gates. Instead of answering his question about Anna being on the team, I eyed the swords and the haversack and asked a question of my own. “How long have ya been here?”
Absolutely zero change in his expression, but it took him a moment to answer, as though assessing the value of the information. “A week.”
He’d been here a week, had unpacked and displayed his weapons and books, but not his haversack? Mind you, he didn’t need clothes...
“Nice sword,” I said.
Another pause. Then, “Gift from a friend.” He waved a lazy hand toward the haversack. “They’re all I’m unpacking until I know I’m staying.”
Bleedin’ interesting. It indicated he wasn’t entirely sold on the training program. The sword confused me. As a Dragon, he shed his tailspike with every shift back from beast. They were the weapons Dragons usually wielded.
It meant the sword and knife had sentimental value to him. It was then I noticed another crucial detail—they weren’t hung for display. Rather, they’d been mounted low over the bed. If he sat up, he could reach ’em—with the hilts reversed, they were set up for him to grab.
That they had been placed with such precision disturbed me. Particularly as I would be sleeping a few feet away from him and those weapons. Just who was this bloke?
His metallic eyes gleamed at me, watching me assess ’em. But what he said was, “She’s a looker. What’s her thing?”
My reaction was instantaneous—my lips peeled back from my teeth, and only a fool would consider it a smile. He didn’t flinch, just continued staring as my mouth opened and made an instant fool of me.
“She’s gnarly, mate. Killed a feral with only her mind. So if I were you, ya nuddy bludger, I’d leave her be.”
He stared impassively at me. I glared back at him. My heart thudded erratically—where the bloody hell had that outburst come from?
“Insults work much better if I understand them.” His eyes shone.
I took a deep breath. Calling my new teammate a naked lazy bugger might not be the best idea, considering I was going to be living and working with this guy. And he was an effingDragon. But my mouth opened again before I could stop it. “Leave her alone,” I repeated.
He absorbed that, before saying, “Kinda hard to do if she’s on our team.”
“She is.”
The shifter regarded me in silence before asking, “She got a name?”