His spindly legs cling to my shoulder as I gently stroke the smooth, black-red segments of his body.
“You’re getting big!” I exclaim, my fingers trailing along his plump little frame. “Is it just me, Dracoth, or is our little chunk getting a littletoochunky?”
Dracoth does his Mr. Frowny Face routine, his ruby-red gaze shifting to the nestled Todd. His thick brows somehow manage to furrow even deeper, making his already-imposing expression downright ridiculous.
“It might carry you soon,” he grunts.
I snort. “That’s what I haveyoufor,” I tease, stepping closer with my arms outstretched, a wide grin plastered across my face.
But of course, Dracoth just peers down at me, his eyes smoldering like twin coals. From his towering perspective, I probably look like a zombie toddler demanding a piggyback ride.
“Well... don’t leave me hanging!” I huff, frowning, my arms still stretched wide. He doesn’t budge. “Typical,” I sigh, comically swinging my rigid arms against his massive armored frame.
Dracoth’s expression softens—well, as much as a chiseled slab of rock can soften—and I swear there’s the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth. Emboldened, I press my advantage.
“You’llhaveto carry me, Dracoth,” I insist, my hands landing on his broad chest as I continue my utterly futile assault.
He gently swats my arms away. “The temple lies not far,” he rumbles, pointing toward the towering trees behind him as though I possess the superhuman ability to see through solid forest.
“‘Not far’ foryou,but it could be a fortnight for me,” I grumble, glancing toward the dense foliage with a pang of dread... not to mention missing his lovely heat.
“Besides, I can’t walk!” I blurt, gasping dramatically and clutching at my thighs. “This is your fault, you know,” I add, wincing for effect. Though truthfully, the lovely ache from last night’s... activities still lingers pleasantly. “Iamfrom a ‘lesser species,’ after all,” I purr, my tone dropping into a sultry lilt.
Dracoth’s piercing gaze locks onto mine, his expression unreadable as he seems to weigh every ounce of my being—and probably every hair follicle too.
I hold my ground, staring back with unwavering determination, until—bam!—his massive hand clamps around my hips. In one smooth motion, he lifts me as though I’m weightless, pressing me firmly against his broad, furnace-like chest.
“Yay!” I squeal, throwing my arms around his neck in triumph. His heat is intoxicating, wrapping around me like the world’s coziest blanket. “Hmm, my red dragon,” I murmur, nestling deeper into the crook of his arm. I shift and squirm until I’m perfectly comfortable, like I belong here—because I do.
Dracoth marches through the dense, reddish woods like a giant murder man on a mission. Hardly surprising, really. I mean, he’s going to marry me. If anything, he should be going faster.
His head sweeps every direction, following every eerie bark or wild call echoing from the shadowed bushes and skyscraper-sized trees. The scary noises don’t bother me though. I have Dracoth, my unstoppable guardian. My heart flutters as I squeeze tighter into his embrace; even his stomping bobo-the-clown feet and his wind tunnel breathing soothe me.
Suddenly, he stops—abruptly, like a car slamming the brakes. I jolt upright, rudely torn from the edge of a cozy nap.
“Hey!” I protest, rubbing at my bleary eyes.
Maybe he should come with a seatbelt?
Dracoth kneels, his massive hand brushing the blackened char of burned grass. A heavy wave of emotion slams into me through our bond—anger, shame, regret—a potent cocktail simmering like the heat he constantly radiates.
My breath hitches. “What’s wrong?” I ask, scanning the area.
Scorched earth stretches before us, wide patches of red grass burned away to reveal singed soil. High in the trees, jagged grooves claw into one side, while others look melted, their edges burned and eerily trimmed with smooth blue. My stomach tightens at the sight.
“What the hell happened here?”
“My shame,” Dracoth mutters, his voice a low rumble. His head lifts, taking in the wreckage like he’s seeing spooky ghosts.
I wait for him to say more, but silence settles between us like a heavy fog.
“That’s it? Just ‘shame’?” I let out a sigh, fingers stroking the rubbery body of the too-cute Todd for comfort. “We really need to work on your expression, Dracoth.”
“It is nothing,” he insists, standing abruptly. Rubbing blackened ash, which crumbles between his clawed fingers, carried away on the light breeze whispering through the forest.
“Oh, come on,” I press, sensing the deep churn of unresolved angst in our bond. “There’s a whole lot ofMr. Frowny Face energyfor something that’s ‘nothing.’”
His brows furrow, deep shadows darkening his expression. The tension in his body coils tight, and then his voice rumbles like gravel: “Krogoth.”
