Then, she’s pulsing, and I’m joining her, and we’re both sweaty, chests moving together. She hums against my neck, and this ... it’s more than sex. More than physical connection.
There is a word for it, I’m sure. One I can’t bring myself to form, even in my mind.
“I have to go,” she says, and this time, she leaves.
A dragon. A baby dragon is currentlyliving in my quarters.
Isla presented it to me as apet.
I refused, of course. I don’t like anyone—other than my hearteater—touching my things. That includes a small bundle of scales.
But then, she portaled me to the forest, where she had left it ... and I felt her wave of worry at the creature being alone. Her disappointment at my reluctance. So, I brought it back with me.
All it’s done is sit and cry.
“If I kill you, she’ll hate me,” I say. I purse my lips, going through scenarios. “Maybe I can make it look like an accident ...”
It just tilts his head and looks at me with wide, watery eyes.
I sigh.
I pick it up, and the tears magically disappear. I glare at it. “Control yourself,” I say. I set it back down.
The crying starts again immediately.
I flare my shadows, trying to scare it. It just cries harder.
Exasperated, my hands make fists, before I pick it up again. The crying stops. I narrow my eyes at it. “You will not manipulate me,” I growl, with as much venom as possible.
It just leans forward—and licks me.
Disgusting. I didn’t know dragonslicked anything. I set it down, ignoring the crying, leaving the room for a council meeting.
When I return, I’m relieved that the crying has stopped.
But the beast is inmy bed. Surrounded by something ... I realize, with a flash of irritation that ittore my pillow into shreds. Isla’s is, of course, unharmed.
“Off,” I say, picking it up, and setting it down on the floor. Instead of crying, it just looks up at me like I’m an idiot, before moving its wingsthat Isla was so convinced were brokenand flying back onto my sheets. It spins around, making itself comfortable before happily falling into place, resting its rounded head against its tail.
I glare at it. “How convenient that your wings are working again,” I say, cursing it. Cursing the fact that I can’t say no to her.
The fury dies when Isla arrives. She sees the dragon and smiles.Smiles. The joy permeates my room, light as the hot-air balloon we once stood in. She loves it.
I glare at the dragon. It took me months to get Isla to care for me. This creature has been here fordaysand she’s smitten.
Its favorite place is on her chest. She smooths her finger between its eyes until it falls asleep.
Only then can I portal the creature into the soft bedding she made it in the next room. I have to be careful, or the beast will awaken, screaming, and she’ll rush out of the room to get it.
I amextraordinarily carefulas I portal it away.
Then, I turn to my hearteater. She’s laughing. She finds me amusing.
Moments later, that laughing turns to whispered pants against my throat.
My fists lock in irritation. I’ve been annoyed all day. Last night, my meetings ran so late, Isla was already asleep when I got back to my room.
The wretched creature was asleep on her. It awoke when I slipped under the covers and glared at me, as ifIwas in some way invadingtheirspace. In my room. In my bed. Next tomyhearteater.
