“She’s a princess and a dragon, Mr. Grandstaff. I’m sure you can imagine the possibilities. Now, if you’d place her there.”
Finally he lowered her to the pile in the gentlest way; it made her heart warm to experience the care. He brushed her hair back from her face. “What now?”
“Leave her,” Harriet said. “She needs time to heal.”
“I’m not going to leave her alone in this… bank vault. What if she needs help? What if this”—he motioned toward the treasure—“doesn’t work right?”
Rowan met Harriet’s gaze, and the old woman seemed to understand what Rowan couldn’t say. This needed to happen. Nick could never be hers completely until he knew the entire truth of what she was.
“Very well. Help me undress her.” Harriet pulled the dress over her head and placated Nick’s concerns about leaving her naked on a pile of jewels and metalwork. “I’ll bring you food and drink. There’s a bathroom right outside the vault door. If you think you’ll be ill, use it.”
“Why would I be ill?” Nick asked.
Rowan concentrated and started to shift, her bones stretching, her organs reordering themselves. Her skin changed, becoming thicker, covering with scales. The process was slower than normal, more deliberate what with her weakness and fatigue. But when she was done, she stretched her wings, yawned, and felt the dragon begin to heal.
“Holy fucking shit balls. I will never get used to that,” Nick rattled off, then looked up at her with wide, terrified eyes. “Are you okay?”
She nodded and lowered her head when he reached for her. He stroked along her face and neck. Thank the Mountain, he didn’t run away.
“You’re beautiful,” he said softly near her ear. “Red. I love red.”
The purr she released almost hurt, she was so tired.
“Go on. Get some rest. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
She turned, careful not to sweep him into the wall with her tail, and dove beneath her treasure. Curled in on herself, she fell into a deep healing sleep, one so far gone she didn’t even dream.
* * *
Of all thesurprises life had ever thrown his way, this stole the cake. Nick sat cross-legged, back against the wall, staring at a heap of treasure that now contained his girlfriend. His dragon girlfriend. Not just wings. Not just a barbed tail. She was the dragon and the dragon was her, and somehow, someway, he was okay with that.
In fact, he loved her.
Nick had never believed he could love anyone. No, that wasn’t exactly true. He knew he had the capacity to love, just wasn’t sure if anyone would or could ever love him. The loss of a mother was always traumatic to children. Nick understood that. But Nick’s loss had many edges. His abandonment had come at a time he was most vulnerable and had left no one to protect him from Stan.
Now he understood his mother had never meant to leave him. She’d been wrapped up in darkness and she couldn’t get herself out.
Fuck, he hurt. His entire body felt like a fresh bruise, and he was pretty sure the bite mark on his neck was deeper than the last. He lowered himself to the floor and closed his eyes. He wasn’t sure how long he slept, but when he opened his eyes again, she was standing there, entirely naked but healthy, as if the horrors of the night before had never happened at all. Unfortunately, he couldn’t say the same. He couldn’t move.
“You look better,” he said.
“You look like hell.”
“Fair enough.”
She crossed the room out of his field of vision and returned wearing a red robe. She knelt beside him and took his hand in hers. “Thank you for coming for me.”
He winked at her, which hurt more than he expected, and squeezed her hand. “Well, I think we had to wipe out most of the New Amsterdam coven to do it, but it will all be worth it if you throw me your handkerchief. Isn’t that what princesses did for the winner of the joust?” He chuckled but had to stop when it felt like his ribs might crack.
“You can have more than my handkerchief, Nick.”
“Good. Because I want you. All of you.”
“I thought you were afraid of relationships.”
“I’ve recently reassessed that fear. Turns out I’m much more afraid of living without you.”
She leaned down and pressed a kiss against his lips. It was like an angel floating down from heaven to stab him in the face with a red-hot poker. He groaned.
