The dragon’s scales glitter green in the light from Elowyn’s magic. No wonder it looked like a hedge. Now it’s staring at them from one of its yellow eyes.
Any minute now, fire will burst from its mouth. Or its nostrils. How does a dragon breathe fire, anyway? Maybe both ways?
To Rominy’s dismay, Elowyn shuffles forward. Stars above—she really does want to die.
The dragon rears back, and its long, spiked tail flies toward them.
Rominy doesn’t even think. He just reacts and flings himself between the spikes and Elowyn.
Burning pain ignites his flesh where the spikes dig across his torso, and he looks down in shock at the red seeping in a growing circle on his white shirt.
The world goes dark as Elowyn’s scream bites his ears before fading away as if a gulf separates them. The pain ebbs, leaving him lightheaded as he struggles in the darkness.
Is he dying?
He can’t die. That would kill Elowyn, too.
“Rominy!” Elowyn’s voice grows louder again as a faint light casts shadows across his chamber.
His chamber. Oh, thank the heavens. He’s alive.
He pulls back the covers to examine himself for any signs of harm, but the room spins just as a blinding light flies toward him.
“You’re all right. Tell me you’re all right.”
It’s Elowyn. Before he can answer, her free hand is running across the bare skin of his stomach, and whatever he was going to say becomes a distant thought.
“You’re not hurt. Oh, I thought—”
“I’m fine,” he finally manages. “Just lightheaded.”
And shirtless. At least she’s not wearing that lacy nightgown. That would be every kind of awkward.
She’d be gorgeous in it, though.
Before he has time to ponder that thought, Elowyn smacks his chest, and he flinches.
“What was that for?”
“For scaring me half to death. You can’t just jump in front of dragons like that!”
He looks sheepishly up at her as shadows silhouette her silver hair. “I didn’t want it to hurt you.”
“I have magic!”
His brows knit. “Right. I forgot.”
She sags onto the bed beside him. “There was so much blood. And then you collapsed, and it didn’t look like you were breathing, and suddenly I was in my bed again.” Panic edges her voice, and he pushes himself into a sitting position.
“Hey, hey. It’s all right. I’m fine. See? No blood. Not even a scratch.”
Then she’s leaning against him as quiet weeping makes her shudder.
Now what?
Hesitantly, he wraps his arms around her. “It’s all right, Elowyn. I’m all right. And we learned something important—”
“Don’t walk down labyrinths that have dragons living in them?”
