by KC Kingmaker
Frowning, I ducked back inside the wagon covering. There was nothing I could do but wait and see.
And think.
Amber Eyes had called me “competition.” I could assume he meant we were after the same thing: the fancy dragonrune sword.
My eyes widened. He must be a dragon, then, right?
Or maybe he just wanted the ludicrous amount of money that came with finding the sword.
I balked at that. Judging by his garb, Amber Eyes wasn’t hurting for money.
Then, maybe, if he’s not a dragon shifter himself, he’s working for one?
I leaned against my bulging backpack and rubbed my chin thoughtfully. “No, be real, Levy,” I said to no one.
I flashed back to our row near the edge of Belfue. During our encounter, quicker than Amber Eyes could probably notice, my eyes had lingered over his miraculous body, pausing briefly on the thick outline running down his pant leg, pressed tightly against his thigh.
Just thinking about it made me wet, and it took a lot of soul searching to get the titillating vision out of my mind.
No, that stunning man had not been a simple henchman to someone else. A man emanating that much fire and confidence, which his impeccable physique . . .
There’s no way that guy was anything but a—
Something in the sky caught my attention. I could just make it out through the open back window of the wagon. It looked like a small blob in the distance, soaring along the pink and red horizon like a shooting star.
And it was getting bigger.
I blinked a couple times and rubbed my eyes. When I opened them it was still there, growing larger.
I crawled on my hands and knees to the back of the wagon and popped my head out, squinting to stare up at the sky—
And wings flapped.
The air came sharply into my lungs. I finished my earlier thought: There’s no way that guy was anything but a dragon!
My mouth fell open as the magnificent creature drifted through the sky, following the road we traveled but from the heavens.
As the beast flew overhead, I got a good look at it.
Ruby red scales covered the entire creature’s backside, wings, and legs, like resplendent armor, save for a patch of silky, beige flesh around its underbelly. Its maw and snout was sharp, reptilian, menacing, attached to a long neck.
The fading sun and the backdrop of the fevered sunset and the distant mountaintops painted the dragon brilliantly, causing its scales to shimmer in every crimson hue I could imagine.
I stared awestruck at the radiant being.
It was as big as a house. And something was hanging from one of its back feet, like a black banner.
Then it was past, beating its glorious wings a few times before gliding toward the woods in front of us.
I could hear the powerful whoosh as the scaled wings fought the sky.
My tongue was plastered to the roof of my mouth when I finally closed it. My lips were dry.
I’d just experienced my first ever dragon sighting, but it wasn’t nearly enough.
I rushed back, crawled, and shimmied through the front hole to join Clive at the seating bench, in the hopes I could get another look at it before it vanished.
“Merlog’s steaming shit,” Clive murmured. He craned his neck to fixate on the dragon, bewilderment written on his face.
“I’ll say,” I rasped.
“Haven’t seen a dragon in these parts in, well, ever.”
“Same.”
“What do you think it’s doing here? Come to stake its claim on one of the Wildland towns?”
It had been coming from the same direction as us: Belfue. “No,” I said with a smile, “but I have some ideas.”
Out the corner of my eye, I saw Clive turning to me, almost with equal stupefaction as he’d stared at the dragon.
When it was clear I wasn’t going to clarify what I meant, he just harrumphed.
I focused on the dragon’s red tail, cutting through the air like an enormous python. As the dragon shrank in the distance, a pang of anguish rifled through me out of nowhere. I shuddered in confusion.
Gods, I was so drawn to this magnificent creature!
And then it faltered in the air.
My eyes bulged.
The dragon’s ruby wings jerked and it didn’t seem to glide with the same regal grace as before. It wobbled.
“What’s wrong with it?” Clive asked dumbly. “Seems to be drunk all a sudden.”
The dragon struggled to stay aloft—
A gasp escaped my lungs and tore through my lips.
It clipped the tall peak of a tree somewhere ahead in the woods.
With an agonized roar that shook the sky, it plummeted among the trees and disappeared from view.
CLIVE MADE NO ANNOUNCEMENT to set up camp when we reached the woods. He was too insanely curious—almost giddy—to find the fallen dragon.
I was curious too, but also distraught. A knot of worry had settled in my stomach and it didn’t seem like it was going anywhere.
I clasped the locket near my breast for comfort.
The horses snorted skittishly as we reached the woods. It wasn’t the density of the trees scaring them—the woods were actually quite scattered and there was a makeshift road to travel on—but they had seen the dragon, too.
And unlike me, Franny didn’t want to get anywhere near it.
I vowed to reward her with another muffin if she brought us closer to the beast. And if not, I would just hoof it on my own two feet.
Clive managed to finally corral the scared horses and get them moving just as the sun finished its descent. Silver moonlight peered through the trees in murky tendrils, giving the whole area a spooky atmosphere.
I kept my head on a swivel. The minutes dragged by excruciatingly slowly.
After some time wading through the pockets of trees, I spotted something just off the path.
“There!” I called out, pointing.
Trees had fallen in on themselves, cracked and broken. Something big had gouged the earth and upended the woodland floor before dragging on like a scar against nature.
Our wagon followed the tunnel of cleaved undergrowth until we stopped at the edge of a bowled crater.
It was nearly as deep as a man was tall and twice the diameter of the wagon. A wall of vegetation and tree limbs was piled high on the far side where the sliding dragon must have stopped.
But the bowl was empty.
I furrowed my brow and bit my bottom lip, searching around through the hazy moonlight.
A flash of flesh caught my attention and I whirled to the left—and the slab of perfection stepped out from behind a tree trunk.
Naked as the day he was born.
He looked beaten up and filthy from his tumble through the woods, but even so his body was impeccable: rippling biceps and thighs, arched shoulder muscles that looked like hand-holds chiseled into a mountainside, pectorals you could melt butter on, and six or eight bricks making up his abdomen.
And of course because he stood so proud and unabashedly nude before me, I couldn’t keep my eyes from wandering a bit further south and—
Wow. Merlog save me. Or don’t. He truly was blessed in every sense of the word. Even in the darkness, I didn’t need sunlight to see that!
My mouth instantly dried. It took everything in my power to keep my jaw from dropping to the bottom of the crater.
Damn, now this is a man. They don’t make guys like him in Belfue. Though Blythe would probably be the person to question about that, I was sure she’d concur.
Heat came to my cheeks and every other part of me as I squirmed, squeezing my thighs together.
I tried to compose myself, but then he started walking toward me!
I almost tripped backward into the cavity of earth.
His stride was graceful for a man so big, yet I could tell he was hurting.
When he got closer, I stifled a gasp. He was bleeding from his butter-melting chest, in multipl
e spots. His face was bruised. His auburn hair shimmered purple in the moonlight, but leaves and twigs made it look like he was housing a bird’s nest.
“I can’t find my cloak,” he said dismally, stopping a few paces from me.
My eyes locked on his body—the northern half—and they stung from trying to fixate on his face without blinking or venturing back down to his swinging—
“Have you gone thick, woman?” he called.
Yes, thick . . . so thick—
I snapped to attention. “What? Me? No! I heard you,” I finally replied in a tumble of stops and starts.
“We, uh, have some furs in the wagon,” Clive said helpfully from behind me.
Shit, I’d forgotten he was there. My entire universe had zeroed in on this glorious titan.
“Yes, the furs!” I said, unhelpfully. It gave me a reason to turn around and flee a few paces to the safety of the wagon.
Seconds later, the man’s voice called out: “Oh, never mind. Here it is.”
I turned reflexively at the sound—
And he was bent over a ways away, showing me his whole entire ass!
“Oh fucking shit!” I croaked reflexively, then immediately slapped a hand to my mouth.
When he stood to his full height he was holding a black bundle. He unraveled it and two swords thudded to the ground.
To my utter dismay, he drew his black cloak around his shoulders and pulled it tight, covering his body. The cloak was ragged, with rips and holes, but still serviceable.
I frowned at him.
“That’s better,” he said.
No, it’s certainly not.
“Though it’s damned cold,” he added.
There was silence between the three of us. It lingered and I felt incredibly awkward, but I simply didn’t know what to say. I’d never been in this position before.
I ran a hand nervously through my silver hair.
“Okay, then, I suppose I’ll be going,” the titan said.
His eyes fell on mine and I became lost in the swirl of amber flames, calling to me. There was vitality and confidence in those orbs, and something else . . . like unbridled passion.
In that moment, it was a passion that could rival my own.
I gulped loudly and was about to take a step toward him—
Then Clive saved me from myself.
“Well, traveler, it seems we’re all going the same way.”
Amber Eyes turned to the trader. “It does appear that way,” he said in his low baritone.
“Wagon’s got plenty of room,” Clive answered with a shrug. “If you’d like to hop on for a stint. Looks like your wounds could use some balm.” Which was begging the question how he’d even survived such a fall.
I spun and faced Clive with an incredulous look. I wanted to scream, “How could you betray me, Clive, after all we’ve been through this afternoon?!”
But he just widened his eyes a fraction, as if to reply, “What? It’s the decent thing to do.”
And really, it was my own body betraying me. I didn’t trust myself around this blazing man—gods, I didn’t even know his name!
I finally wheeled around and saw the dragon bright in his eyes. He stared firmly at me as a smile tugged the corner of his lips. “I would be much obliged, my good man.”
11
Levia
I didn’t know how to react or respond to my newfound proximity to the dragon shifter. For the first time in my twenty years, I was inert.
I mean, he’s supposed to be the “competition,” right? I can’t just perv on the enemy the whole ride to Cerophus.
Plus, there was the underlying knowledge that he was completely naked under that thin cloak of his.
We didn’t make it much further that night before finally setting up camp. It ended up being me who asked Clive if we could settle for the evening.
Clive and I slept in the wagon, beneath the furs, while the shifter said he’d be more comfortable out in nature among the trees.
Fine with me. Give me some freaking room to breathe.
Clive, being the generous man he was turning out to be, supplied the stranger with some furs to use as blankets. The dragon slept with his two shiny blades right next to him, as if sending a warning to anyone around.
I felt equal parts scared for my own life, and more protected than I ever had before. It was so damn confusing.
In the end, I grumbled to myself about Clive being so near, which was selfish. It was his wagon, after all. But I desperately needed to, uh, relieve some tension, and I wasn’t going to do it with him so close. Even if he was snoring.
Sleep claimed me surprisingly quickly. It had been a long day.
When daybreak came, I awoke to the sweet smell of sizzling sausages. My stomach rumbled and my mouth watered.
I also heard groaning outside, in the deep tone of the dragon shifter.
I furrowed my brow—then remembered he had been pretty badly injured in his fall through the woods.
With the wagon completely covered at both ends, I quickly dug through my backpack and found a clean tunic and pants to change into.
When I popped my head out of the back flap, for some reason I felt ticked off. I didn’t know why I was angry—perhaps after my initial lustful trance at the hands of the shifter had worn off, I was feeling—
Nope, there it was again.
The dragon man was reclined up against a stump, grunting, his body perspiring. His cloak was shoved down to his midsection and in the daylight his wounds looked way worse.
Clive nursed a fire, absentmindedly cooking sausages over it. “Ah,” he exclaimed, hearing me stumble out of the wagon, “she graces us with her presence.”
I scowled as he smiled at me over his shoulder. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.
He turned back to his fire and poked the sausages. “Only that we should have been on the road an hour ago.”
“I . . . oh. Sorry. It was a long day yesterday.”
“Wasn’t it just?”
I joined them at the fire and plopped down closer to Clive, then stared through the licking flames at the dragon. It seemed appropriate to have him framed in literal fire.
He winced at a crusty gash along his chest. It would make a sexy scar, no doubt, but for now it looked nasty.
He hadn’t given me so much as a glance yet, and for some reason the lack of attention made me even more ornery. I scowled at him and crossed my arms again.
“Don’t look so tough now, do you?” I said snidely.
Gods, Levy, what’s wrong with you?
During my slumber, I suppose I had finally figured out how to react to this guy, but I couldn’t say it was very dignified or pleasant.
His eyes pierced me. “I could still take you,” he said flatly.
“Sounds like a challenge,” I said, hoping to sound testy. “I love a challenge.”
He ignored my provocation and went back to picking at his wound, wincing along.
After a few minutes of watching, my frustration boiled and I unwisely snatched a sausage off one of the spits. I fumbled it because it was hotter than a volcano, and bit into it. Inside was even worse. I made an unseemly “huff-fuh-fuh-fuh” sound as I tried to choke it down without scalding my throat. At least it was delicious.
When I looked back up with watering eyes, the shifter was chuckling to himself.
“So, what are you, some type of fire dragon?” I said, trying to pretend like he wasn’t laughing at me.
His smirk made my heart flutter. “Yes. And clearly you’re not,” he said, jutting his chin toward the fire and the other cooking sausages.
I flushed like a tomato. “Screw you.”
He barked a laugh. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”
My eyes widened—How childish!—and I reached instinctively for another sausage.
Clive slapped my hand away this time. I yelped and relented with a bowed head, earning a glower from the older man.
<
br /> Maybe I’m being the childish one. I guess I can’t take my frustrations out on our food supply. You win this round, Clive.
I didn’t want to let the dragon win the round, though.
Quietness fell over us, and I calmed down a little. The chirping of birds and insects in the surrounding woods was rather pleasant and soothing.
I had to admit it was better to be out here with companions—or companion, rather, since I wouldn’t call the asshole across the fire that—than alone. That could get hairy pretty quickly.
What was I thinking to imagine I could’ve done this entire trek alone, by foot, with my massive backpack?
Now I knew for the future: pack light.
I mean, gods, besides the two swords always within arm’s reach, the dragon packed as light as could be. He literally had nothing on under that cloak!
After watching him pick and prod his wound with varying degrees of grimaces, grunts, and frowns, I rolled my eyes and stood.
I went to the wagon, shuffled through my bag, and returned with a handful of red berries.
Amber Eyes stared at me confusedly as I begrudgingly sat next to him.
“Merlog’s balls, man, stop picking at it,” I said, shaking my head.
He obliged, tilting his head ever so slightly.
Reluctantly, I brought the berries to his skin, near his ribcage where the wound was the worst.
A flare of warmth shot through me, startling me with how good and right it felt. Even though the gash was gross, the skin around it was velvety smooth and the muscles underneath hard. I gulped, rubbing the berries on the wound, squishing them to get the goop onto the cut.
He hissed at my touch.
I frowned. A hiss—like dousing a campfire with water—wasn’t exactly the sound I wanted to hear the first time I touched this man.
“Oh, don’t be such a big baby,” I drawled, keeping my head down. I couldn’t look up at him. His lips and face were too close, his warm pine breath wafting through my hair, and my nipples were pebbling under my shirt. I didn’t want him to see that.
“What are you doing?” he asked with some alarm in his voice. “What are those?”
“Don’t worry, it’s not poison. Living on your own for years, you learn a few things along the way. These berries will help make the swelling go down so your body can naturally heal itself faster.” I smirked and finally glanced up at him with another challenge in my eyes. “Why, you scared?”