“And?” Joseph’s frown was forbidding, as if somehow Zarrin considering marriage was the biggest offense.
“Marriage seems a lovely thing.” Zarrin addressed the floor, his human face stinging with a blush. “A friendship with passion—and there would be passion, from me, at least. Devotion as only a dragon can show. I would not mind a companion, you understand. It’s more than I expect, if I am honest. But a husband who loves me? I would like that, very much. Have you ever imagined such a thing? Oh, yes, you have. I’m sorry. I should not have said that.”
Joseph turned around, toward the door, then sighed. “Do you need clothes? I know it’s warm in here, but you ought to have… something.”
“Warm?” Zarrin lifted an arm to show off his goosebumps. “Human bodies need more fur. Although yours is currently wearing too much. If you are overly warm, Joseph, you might remove your big coat.”
Joseph shot him a sharp look, then faced the door again. Zarrin assumed he was frowning. But, importantly, he wasn’t arguing.
Zarrin gentled his voice. “If you think I will be more swept away by your body than your face, then know that is already impossible.” Joseph stiffened. Zarrin clucked his tongue. “If you prefer the coat on, then leave it on. But I would rather you be comfortable than worry I will try to seduce you.”
Joseph shot him another look, his brow a thundercloud, and disappeared out the door.
ZARRIN FRETTED over leaving without seeing Joseph again, straightened the pile of blankets, then made a pot of tea that was hot, if not good. He poured it out and tried it again, this time adding more leaves. Around what he thought was midday, Joseph returned.
Without a word, Joseph stepped inside the house and turned to remove his giant coat of fur and spikes. He hung it by the door, where the helmet and claw gloves already waited for whenever Joseph might need them. He took his time hanging the coat, giving Zarrin time to look, perhaps, before he faced Zarrin again.
Zarrin saw a young human man, with a body used to hard work, in brown pants and boots, and a white shirt that had not been laced completely at the front.
He smiled.
“I need to check your hands,” Joseph said gruffly, not acknowledging what he had done, or how Zarrin’s smile had made him exhale in relief. Zarrin held his hands out without rising from Joseph’s blankets. Joseph sat down in front of Zarrin and frowned heavily. “You can wear some of my clothes.”
Zarrin did not currently need clothes. “How do you think I would look in your fur coat?” he wondered, staring at nothing else but his hands as they were held carefully in Joseph’s.
“Ridiculous.” Joseph said it the way some people might have saidadorable, then cleared his throat and turned Zarrin’s hands this way and that.
Zarrin’s hands did not have even the faintest scratch and yet Joseph said not a word about it.
“What is it like in the towers?” Joseph asked, his thumbs at Zarrin’s wrists. “Since us humans have forgotten. Are there other human companions… other husbands there? Brides? Spouses?”
“There used to be.” Zarrin could not speak above a whisper. “If I complained too much that humans have forgotten us, know that we have forgotten you, too. I… ah my skin is so sensitive now.”
Joseph stilled his hands but kept them where they were. He glanced up. “Do you miss your palace?”
“I miss my sister,” Zarrin confessed. “I miss my pillows and the mountain skyline. Do you miss the town?”
Joseph shook his head, then gave a curt nod. “Some parts of it.”
“You could go back,” Zarrin suggested. “I will speak to my family. Whatever else the townspeople might do to you, they will no longer be able to threaten you with dragons. If they threaten you in any other way, I would ask you to tell me. Send me a message, once I am gone, and I will give you whatever you need.”
He should have been gone already. He had only asked to stay one more night.
But Zarrin was no longer directionless. His chest was hot with fire. He spoke again. “If you are lonely here, you might find someone to join you.”
“A companion?” Joseph asked. Zarrin did not think he was teasing, though he may have been. “Shall I summon candidates like dragons do?”
“It’s within your power,” Zarrin answered honestly, looking up. “You brought me here.”
He expected Joseph to frown again, or growl his name, embarrassed.
Joseph regarded him steadily, though with a flush darkening his face. “You said you had no direction.”
Zarrin studied him in confusion, and then with dawning wonder. “Youbrought me here,” he said again, because the fuel for a dragon’s fires was in Joseph’s changing expressions. “I braved thorns for you, and it was not for your face, pretty though it is.”
“To solve my problem.” Despite his slight frown, Joseph was not angry. He released a shuddering breath as he added, “Not to kidnap me. Not to try to seduce me.”
Zarrin leaned forward. “Did youwantme to kidnap you? Or at least seduce you? It sounds as if you did, just a little. How confusing for you to feel that when I did not look like this.” His smile began to peek through despite his efforts, but he still did not believe it was anger that had Joseph so quiet. Fear, almost definitely, along with worry and embarrassment. But not anger. “Is that what you wanted at first? To be loved fiercely and deeply, but to also be able to pretend it was not your idea or desire? To have your heart safe, so no one could hold your feelings against you the way someone once did? Oh, Joseph. I would never. You must believe that, or, hopefully, you will in time. But the first part? I could do that, although I do not think you would like life in the palace. I would have to keep you here, instead. As mine.”
