Her curves, especially those at her hips and backside, were the opposite of a dragoness’s hard scales, but he found them infinitely more appealing in that moment. Physical contact between dragons and humans had always been forbidden, but what would just a fleeting touch feel like? How would her hair, as chaotic and fiery as the flames before her, feel against his most sensitive scales?
His spark buzzed in his chest, sending a thrumming current through his limbs that had his fingers curling and his claws raking the floor stones. He clenched his jaw and tensed his tail before it could twitch even closer to Leyloni.
He’d seen humans without their coverings before and had never thought anything of it. No other creatures wore clothes so far as he knew—nudity, as the humans called it, was simply a natural state for all living things. But he could not ignore Leyloni’s body, could not look away from her.
When she bent forward to lay her top on the floor with her other belongings, he caught a glimpse of her slit between her thighs.
Arysteon choked back a groan as his stem emerged from his own slit, its tip pressing firmly against the cold, hard floor. He was grateful he’d lain on his belly to spare himself the shame of her seeing him extrude.
This was…this was perverse! He was acting like a dragon in the early stages of the comet’s Heat, like he had no control over himself. But he could not blame the red comet for this lack of self-control. This was Arysteon alone—this was Arysteon lusting for a human.
Lusting for a mate.
Was it wrong to want her? Was it wrong to think of her in that manner? She was of a wholly different species, so small, so short-lived, and yet…
He knew it was possible to have her as his mate. He knew it was possible to become more like her. Though he could not begin to guess why dragons and humans shared that sort of bond, the truth of it was plain—some force greater than any human, greater than any dragon, had decided some of them were meant to be together regardless of their species.
Was it possible that Leyloni was meant to be his?
Leyloni gently lifted Serek off the floor, removing the blanket as she drew him against her chest. The hatchling didn’t stir. She draped the blanket over her shoulder and crouched to pick up her bag. She carried everything over to the opposite side of the fire, where she set the bag down and sat. Keeping one arm around Serek, she swung the blanket around her shoulders, drew it closed around herself and the hatchling, and lay down on her side facing Arysteon. She settled her head atop her bag.
The extra distance she’d put between herself and Arysteon was so miniscule it should barely have registered to him, but it seemed as vast as the sea.
With Serek nestled in the crook of her arm, Leyloni looked down at his face and gently smoothed back his dark hair. The crackling fire, pouring rain, and distant rumbling of thunder were the only sounds for a long while. Slowly, Arysteon’s lust eased. He found himself content simply to watch the humans rest and marvel at the stunning depth in Leyloni’s eyes, which she kept open despite her obvious weariness.
In place of that fading lust rose something just as powerful—protectiveness. These two humans were so small and fragile, alone in a huge, unforgiving world. They were his to protect now.
“Sleep, Leyloni,” he rumbled. “I will guard you in your slumber.”
“Are all the stories about dragons true?” she asked, turning her tired eyes toward him.
Arysteon shifted his neck to angle his head more directly toward her. His tongue flicked out instinctively; the air was still redolent of Leyloni. “I do not know the stories to which you refer. What do your kind say about mine?”
“That you could become human if you are touched by one.”
A hot, constricting sensation halted Arysteon’s heart. He squeezed his eyes shut against the discomfort. When his heartbeat resumed, that heat spread outward, tingling along his limbs. It was almost reminiscent of how he’d felt when he’d been caught doing something he should not have been doing as a whelpling.
There was no way she could have known what he’d been thinking moments ago, no way she could have guessed at his innermost wonderings…was there? For her to bring up this matter now, so soon after it had been swirling through his mind, could not have been coincidental. Perhaps humans were much better at reading dragons than he’d assumed.
Or, perhaps, her thoughts had simply been led down the same path as his by their current situation. Leyloni had just lost everything—everyone—except a defenseless hatchling. Was it not natural for her to long for a protector? To long for someone to ease some of her pain by forging a new connection?
To long for a mate?
Did not Arysteon himself harbor some of those same desires?
And yet even knowing those stories, even in her weary and desperate state, even having had ample opportunities to do so, Leyloni had made no attempt to touch him.
Was it uncertainty, lack of desire, or…or simply a reflection of the sort of person she was? A reflection of her kindness, her strength, her respect. He could not help but admire her even more for her resolve—for what she had not done even though there had been a chance of claiming something better for herself.
He would give her the truth—now and always, no matter how long their time together lasted.
Spark humming in anticipation, Arysteon opened his eyes and lifted his head, settling his gaze upon Leyloni.
But whatever words he’d meant to speak faded before he could give them voice. Her eyes were closed, her expression relaxed, her body unmoving. She was just as still as the sleeping hatchling.
Arysteon extended his tongue. Despite the now prevalent scent of burning wood, it was still her fragrance that stood out to him the most.
“Leyloni?” he asked softly.
He held his breath for several moments, as though his breathing would be too loud for him to hear her response, but she made no reply. That warm tingling, at once reminiscent of what he’d always felt from his spark and wholly different from it, raced through his body again.
Moving as quietly as he could, he pushed himself up and crept closer to her. He eased down on the opposite side of the fire, curling his body to create a safe harbor for her and Serek not unlike the seaside bays he’d sometimes seen in his younger years. The firelight only enhanced the softness of her features.
He breathed in her scent through his nostrils as he ran his eyes over her again, enjoying the increased detail gained by his closeness. Her hair was drying into a mass of curls that shone with gold and copper highlights, contrasting her darker brows and lashes. Those tiny brown spots on her skin were more defined and concentrated across her cheeks and nose.
Arysteon’s spark flared with the sudden urge to touch the tips of his tongue to her skin. Was there a difference in feel, a difference in taste, between the pale parts of her flesh and those speckles?
She was so different from him, so small, so delicate.
So beautiful.
If she were to touch him, if he were to become like her…would it be a bad thing? He would have a mate, he would have a whelping, he would have a clan. He would have a purpose.
He would no longer be alone.
4
Leyloni woke with a start to a cry from Serek. Instinctively, she pulled him into the protection of her body as she raised her head and reached for the knife at her waist—but her knife was not there. She was naked. She paused for a few moments, fighting back her grogginess and disorientation, forcing herself to full awareness.
The fire was low but healthy. Its weak light didn’t reach the walls and ceiling of the cavern, but it cast ghostly glows on the roots, vines, and debris that were all around. More distinct was the strange stone pillar nearby. She’d never seen its like—it was as tall and wide as a tree trunk but stood unnaturally straight.
Her eyes shifted to her clothing, which was laid out on the floor on the other side of the fire, exactly where she’d left it.
The light coming in through the cavern opening was
even weaker than the fire’s, but its quality had taken on a particular shade of gray suggesting it was morning—quite early morning, perhaps, but morning, nonetheless.
Serek wriggled against her with another displeased cry. Leyloni released her hold on him, and he immediately rolled over and pushed himself into a sitting position. He babbled to himself, patting his palms atop the blanket as though he hadn’t been upset a moment earlier.
Leyloni eased back down to watch Serek. He talked in a language all his own, his babbling broken by occasional discontented cries that stopped abruptly whenever he found something interesting to grab. A leaf that had made its way onto the blanket, a loose thread, Leyloni’s wild hair—they all provided bursts of entertainment for the curious baby.
After tucking her hair out of his reach, she brushed her fingers over his head.
The wind was still howling outside, and by the sound of the rain, the downpour had not let up. But Leyloni and Serek were safe and dry within this shelter.
Her hand stilled. But what of Arysteon? Had he been real or a figment of her imagination, brought to life in her dreams by old stories?
He must be real. Who else would have kept the fire burning as I slept?
As loath as Leyloni was to rise, she drew the blanket back and forced herself to her feet. She rounded the firepit and gathered her clothes. Serek crawled after her.
“Did you see where the dragon went?” Leyloni asked as she drew on her skirt and tied the lacings. The hem barely reached her mid-thigh after she’d had to cut it to make diaper cloths for Serek.
Serek grabbed her leg, bracing against it as he hauled himself up onto his chubby little legs. He looked up at her and whined.
“What terrible hunters we are,” she teased, smiling down at him. She slipped her arms through the short sleeves of her top, pulled the sides together, and laced it closed. The fabric was still damp, its touch cool against her skin.
Crouching, she lifted Serek off the floor. He wrapped his arms around her neck as she stood.
“The storm has not yet passed,” she said. “Do you think he will allow us to stay?”
Though the change was subtle, Leyloni noticed immediately when the gray exterior light vanished, making the fire seem brighter in comparison. Something heavy scraped across the floor near the cavern’s entrance, and there was a rustling sound like leaves shaking.
Leyloni tensed and reached for her knife again—only to curse when she realized she still hadn’t put on her belt.
I really am a terrible huntress.
She swung her gaze around to see the dragon entering the cavern, his form dark and imposing until he neared the fire and his shimmering scales were hit by the warm firelight. Her body eased at the sight of his now familiar shape and color.
The dragon’s mouth was clamped around a bundle of long branches, most of which still bore their leaves—and dozens of big, orange sunfruits. Arysteon stopped several paces away from Leyloni and dropped the branches onto the floor. Water streamed off his scales and pooled beneath him.
Arysteon fixed his glowing eyes upon her. “It is yet early, Leyloni. You may sleep longer, should you wish to.”
“Serek is awake, and I am well rested…thanks to you, Arysteon.” She caught the inside of her bottom lip with her teeth and ran her eyes over him. “I…hope we did not disturb your slumber.”
He released a soft grunt and lowered his head so it was closer to her eye level. “You did not. I can endure a great while without sleep.” Shifting one of his clawed hands forward, he pushed the branches a little closer to her. “Eat if you are hungry. I saw you pick these to share with Serek yesterday and was unsure of what else you may safely consume.”
Leyloni’s brows creased. He’d seen her pick the sunfruit? That meant he’d already spotted her before the treestalker’s attack, but how long before? She had thought it had been Serek’s cries during her panicked flight from the monster that had drawn Arysteon to her, but now she recalled the sounds she’d heard by the stream, the feeling she’d had of being watched…
“Were you following us?” she asked.
Arysteon backed away slightly before lying on the floor, keeping his gaze on her throughout. “I was. An unfamiliar scent had caught my attention, and I tracked it through the woods. It was yours.”
“Mine?”
The dragon’s forked tongue slipped out, lapped at the air, and retreated. “Indeed. It is rather…unique. I cannot say I have smelled or tasted anything so pleasant.”
Warmth flooded her cheeks, and she did not understand why. Arysteon was a dragon, and yet her body reacted to his compliment with the same pleasure it would have were he a man.
Leyloni adjusted her hold on Serek. The baby lifted a hand, curled it into a fist, and stuck it into his mouth, his wide eyes not once leaving Arysteon.
“That was you at the stream,” Leyloni said.
Arysteon snorted. “Yes, and I nearly gave myself away. It is not easy for a full-grown dragon to remain hidden, even in a forest this thick.”
He’d stalked them through the woods, but rather than attack Leyloni and Serek, he’d saved them. Then he’d led them here, to his lair, so they could take shelter from the storm. Leyloni had slept more deeply last night than ever before. And she’d been entirely vulnerable. Instead of taking advantage of her vulnerability, Arysteon had kept her fire burning and foraged fresh food for them. If his actions did not deserve her trust, what did?
“Why did you not show yourself sooner?” she asked.
He ducked his head, averting his gaze. “As foolish as it may seem, I did not know how to approach you. I have not spoken to anyone, neither dragon nor human, in decades. I feared I would only frighten you.”
The corner of her mouth quirked up. “You did frighten me. As I said, I did not think dragons were real, and, well, you do look very…fierce.”
“And you feared I would eat your hatchling?” he asked with a low, warm chuckle.
“I fear there is little in this forest that would not at least try to.” Leyloni’s smile faded, and she took a small step closer to Arysteon. “Thank you for being there, for protecting us. For providing us shelter, warmth, and food.”
Arysteon closed his eyes and dipped his horned head in acknowledgement. When he opened those eyes again, they were as intense as ever—but they were gentler than such inhuman eyes had any right to be. “I am sorry for what you have had to endure. I will do whatever I can to ease your suffering, Leyloni. As different as we are… I understand the path you are walking. You and Serek may shelter here for as long as you need.”
Leyloni’s heart clenched, and she nearly collapsed with relief. She’d not realize quite how heavily the uncertainty of having viable shelter had weighed upon her before the last few days, and his offer greatly eased that burden. Even if she and Serek only remained here for another day or two, until the storm had passed, it was enough. “Thank you, Arysteon.”
Serek grunted. For a few moments, he didn’t breathe, and his face turned a dark shade of red. Then came a vibrating burst of sound that Leyloni felt against her arm, which had been cradling his bottom.
Arysteon’s scaled brow ridges fell, the spines along his back rose, and he stretched his neck, moving his head closer. His tongue flicked out again. Not a moment after it had slid back into his mouth, he recoiled with a snarl, spines slapping flat. “How can a creature so small produce so foul a stench?”
Serek giggled.
The dragon pushed up on his front legs and twisted around, swinging his head toward the entrance of the cave. His sides heaved with several deep breaths.
Leyloni laughed, which caused the baby to giggle more. She could relate. The first time she’d changed Serek to help Atalla, it had taken her a good while to stop gagging.
A shudder coursed through Arysteon, shaking him from his snout down to the tip of his tail. “I assume by your reaction that such odors are normal?”
“From him?” Leyloni’s smile was so wide that her cheek
s ached. “Yes.”
“Perhaps we had best keep him outside.”
Leyloni chuckled and looked at Serek, who was gnawing on his fist with drool trickling down his arm. “Come, Serek. Let us get you cleaned up before Arysteon rethinks his offer to let us stay.”
She crouched next to her bag and dug out one of the spare diaper cloths. She took it, Serek, and some fallen leaves as far back into the cavern as she could while still having enough light by which to work and changed him.
Once she was done, she carried Serek back the fire. She placed him on the floor and dumped the soiled leaves into the flames. Another bit of rummaging in her bag produced some of the soapberries she had stashed toward the bottom.
Leyloni looked at Arysteon, who had turned to face her again. “Would you…keep watch on him for a moment?”
The dragon perked and nodded.
Offering Arysteon a smile, Leyloni hurried to the cavern opening, giving him a wide berth. Though she could’ve sworn she’d asked him about the stories of dragons becoming human through touch, she could not recall whether he’d told her if it was true—but it seemed best to make him aware that she had no intention of testing it against his will.
For his part, he didn’t seem very concerned.
The smell of the storm—and of the forest; alive, earthen, and damp—struck her when she reached her destination. Since the rain had begun yesterday, she’d not stopped to appreciate the way it added to and altered the forest’s smell. That had always been one of her favorite things to do before…
Leyloni frowned. There would be time to dwell upon all that later. There would be time to grieve. For now, she had to care for Serek. So long as the two of them were safe, the Moss tribe was not gone.
She rinsed the soiled diaper cloth as thoroughly as possible in one of the large puddles just outside the cavern entrance, crushing a soapberry and working it into the cloth. She ignored the pattering of cold rain against her head and back.
Once satisfied, she moved to another puddle and rinsed the cloth before scrubbing her hands with another berry.
To Love A Dragon; Venys Needs Men Page 4