“We are Champion of the Skies,”his dragon retorted.“We’re smart and battle hard. If we have to, we will fight for the right to keep her.”
“You make it sound easy. The tear in the magical fabric between us and the mainland worries me. We pay our annual tithe to the druids. There should be no issue. No interruption to our protective barrier. As soon as Gwenyth recovers, we’ll travel to visit my friends on Perfume Isle. We must learn if they have seen or experienced this phenomenon.”
“After facing the ogre-parents, a visit to our friends would be most welcome.”
“I agree.”Leo returned and discovered Gwenyth sitting on one of the stone seats he’d carved into the rock wall. Her face, when she glanced in his direction, had lost every hint of color. He scooped her off the rough seat and held her upright while he wrapped the towel around her wet torso.
“Sorry,” she whispered.
“Why are you apologizing?” he demanded, his voice rough with concern.
“I’m spoiling our honeymoon with my weakness. This should be a time of fun and laughter and copious amounts of fulfilling sex.”
His brows rose, and he glanced down at her pale face. “Copious?”
She huffed. “You’re gorgeous. Every time I glance your way, I want to lick you all over and trace each of your bulging muscles with my mouth.”
Leo stared, pleasure at her heartfelt words reverberating through him.
“Keep. Keep. Keeping her,”his dragon chanted.“Copious sex would be good for us. I’d like it. You’d enjoy it. We’re keeping her.”
“Yes,”Leo replied. Nan, The Strongminded, was not the woman he wanted at his side or in his bed.
In his room, he set Gwenyth on her feet.
“You’re exhausted,” he said. “Let me dry you properly.” Leo patted away droplets of water, working fast because she required her rest. Even so, he took delight in touching her smooth skin and watching the way her body reacted. Her breathing quickened while her pink nipples pulled to tight buds. She watched him through glittering eyes, her expression telling him she enjoyed his attentions. When he kneeled to dry her legs, he scented her sweet arousal, and it pulled an answering response from him. A tightening of his body. He ignored this and wiped her feet. She’d painted her toenails a delicate pink. His dragon purred again while Leo’s lips twitched.
Leo set aside the damp towel and tugged one of his clean shirts over her head. An instant later, he guided her to his bed.
“The linens smell of you,” she murmured, her eyelids fluttering closed. “It’s like being in your embrace.”
Leo smiled so wide, his mouth hurt, but she’d already succumbed to slumber.
“Aw, she’s so cute,”his dragon said.“You like her as much as I do.”
“Yes.” Leo scooped up the damp towel and left his bedroom. He removed the pie from the oven and left it on the counter to cool. “We’ll check the stock and investigate the death stench. I should’ve checked earlier—”
“Your parents angered us. We cannot bring the dead to life, so waiting for a time won’t hurt.”
“The scent has made me uneasy. I feel we must investigate.”
“Will Gwenyth be safe here alone?”
“As long as we do not delay.” Leo removed his clothes and tossed them over the back of his favored chair. He padded outside and halted in the middle of his large terrace before he called his dragon to the surface.
As always, his transformation was quick, his dragon exploding from him in a rush of exhilaration. An instant later, his sturdy hind legs arrowed him upward while his giant emerald-green wings aided his lift into the air. Rapid strokes took him farther up the mountain to his high pastures. The distinct, coppery scent of blood filled his nostrils, and Leo glided on the airstreams instead of flapping his wings. His intent gaze scanned the landscape.
A pack of wolves roamed the area where he grazed his cattle. They’d never taken one of his animals before, but there was always a first time.
His mind raced ahead while he considered possibilities. He’d thought he had an unspoken truce with the wolves, and although they couldn’t communicate, he’d tried to make them understand his cattle were out of bounds. During the hard winters, he often left food for the wolves so they didn’t kill his more valuable animals.
Once Leo reached the pasture, he landed and shifted. He scanned his cattle, doing a rapid count. They were here—all thirty-seven of them—and they milled together at the far end of the pasture near one of the mountain streams that ran through his property. At least the offensive stench wasn’t from one of his animals.
Perplexed, Leo followed the death trail. It led through the top of his meadow and into the pines.
Foreboding stalked him as the odor grew more substantial. Now that he was closer, the wild, gamey aroma of wolf combined with the blood along with another scent he didn’t recognize. Uncertain of what he might find, he strode nearer.
A young wolf of around three months old lay on its side, a spear protruding through its shoulder. Blood pooled around the pup with a larger amount of blood nearby. Where was the pup’s mother? The rest of its pack?
