“Zarrin?” The man slowly raised his head. “ThePrince? The one who summoned me?” He put his bowl down with a bit too much force. “You should have told me.”
“What other dragon would come looking for you?” Zarrin pleaded immediately as no prince or dragon should, except with someone so special. “I already told you I would tell them the truth when I returned. And it gave me relief, coming here. I got away from them all. My family as well as the schemers and the weeping sweethearts thinking I was going to separate them—or eat one of them.” Zarrin shook his head. “According to the ancient stories, humans don’t even taste good. They are also so much more interesting when they are not dead.”
The man opened and shut his mouth, then opened it again. “You should have told me.”
He was insistent, but not as mad as Zarrin had imagined he might be.
“I didn’t think I would be here this long.” Zarrin nudged the plate of bread hopefully, pleased when, angry though he was, the man still fed him from his very hand. Zarrin accepted the food delicately, then swallowed it whole. “I also assumed you guessed at first… though I said nothing when you didn’t.” He ducked his head. “Am I still permitted to stay? Shall I sleep outside? In the cold?”
“Crafty, sly dragon,” the man muttered, and continued to watch Zarrin with wary eyes.
Zarrin did not like being watched in that way. “You didn’t tell me your name, either.”
He didn’t mind at all when the wariness turned to a glare. “Joseph.”
“Joseph,” Zarrin pronounced this name with pleasure, too. “It will be a long evening, if you don’t speak to me. Do you have dice or cards or music? Something to do? I know a great many things, but very few human tales. Though perhaps you would like to tell some?”
Joseph fed Zarrin the last of the bread. After a small silence, he said, “I have no instruments. But I know some stories.”
Zarrin instantly wriggled forward, his tail already curling around Joseph, although Zarrin was careful not to touch him.
Joseph glanced down at Zarrin’s encroaching tail. “Isit companionship, then?” He seemed puzzled again, although Zarrin was quite obvious. “What dragons want from humans?”
“A friend sounds very nice,” Zarrin agreed. “But I am to have a husband, as humans would call it. A spouse, and it seems, a male one. Well, if I am lucky. If not, I shall continue to be alone and directionless.” He lowered his head to the floor and gazed upward. “Tomorrow, before I leave, I will do something to repay you for your kindnesses. Perhaps even find a way for you to go back to your village, or somewhere else, if you wish it. There is no cost to this, Joseph. No price. It’s my pleasure to give it.”
He waited, expecting disbelief, or an argument, but there was only silence for a long time, and then Joseph cleared his throat to begin telling a story, something painful and pretty about a princess and a dress of stars.
THE NEXT MORNING, Zarrin was stiff from sleeping on the floor and anxious to show Joseph that he was not a bother. He blew on the fire to make it hotter, and then puttered around the house to neaten it. When it became apparent that his limited efforts were not good enough, he sighed and closed his eyes and gathered his magic around him like a selkie put on their sealskin.
When he opened his eyes, he was taller, and lighter, and aware of the chilled morning air. Holding out a hand, Zarrin stared at it in satisfaction and amazement, the way he always did at first when shaped like a human.
He had no way to view his face, but his human appearance was much like his dragon one, although he had to glance down to be sure he had the human parts that felt the most natural for him. Zarrin was still little, soft, and slender, with a slight curve to his hips, but he liked the weight of a human cock and testicles between his legs, and the occasional scratch of stubble at his chin, though he had yet to grow a full beard, even with magic.
He tousled his hair with his fingers, lost for a moment in all the sensations that came with a human body, fingertips and hungry skin, a less sensitive nose, long, awkward legs.
Someone gasped.
Zarrin turned and nearly toppled over like a clumsy fawn.
Joseph was at the door, eyes wide as they dropped to Zarrin’s body. Zarrin was shivery and prickly with gooseflesh, but hot inside because he was still dragon, and because Joseph was slow to drag his gaze away. Zarrin put a hand to his bare backside, his thighs. Joseph, who appeared to be glaring at the floor but must not have been, made a strangled noise.
“It’s me. Zarrin,” Zarrin told Joseph breathlessly, running his hands over the funny little nipples that human bodies came with.
“Yes, I—your skin isbronze. I know it’s you.” Joseph choked out. “You can do this? You can be this and you didn’t tell me?” He abruptly raised his head and narrowed his eyes. “You lied to me. Again.”
“I did not!” Zarrin lifted his chin, insulted. “Everyone knows this about dragons!”
“Maybe those who live around the towers! Not the rest of us!”
“It’s in the stories!” Zarrin huffed, not understanding howthisof all things should upset Joseph. “Why else would my family decide I needed a human spouse?”
Joseph closed his mouth with a snap. His gaze dipped down the length of Zarrin’s body. He took a breath, and when he spoke, his voice was husky. “That’s why I was…” He left that thought unfinished. “Why not find your own husband?”
“I was directionless and therefore weak,” Zarrin explained. “As I said, no dragon powerful enough to please my family would want me. And… and I had no interest in a powerful dragon. I will do what I please.” He crossed his arms the way Joseph often did.
“Except be forced into marriage,” Joseph reminded him, a hint of ire still in his tone.
“Forced intoconsideringit,” Zarrin corrected. “Which I have.”
