I liked her company. I was a full-blown softie.
A sprite settled onto my shoulder, probably reading the book alongside me. I hoped they liked werewolf smut. I had the urge to shield their eyes from any unsavory bits, but they could make their own decisions and would flee if they felt the words were too scandalous.
It almost felt like a book club. Fiella appreciated my taste in literature, but not everyone did. And she was much more outspoken about it than I was, too. I kept my novels tucked safely away from prying eyes to avoid any judgement.
Fiella would talk about them in a crowded pub if nobody stopped her. The vampire had no shame.
When the scent turned from acrid to smokey, I set the book aside and returned to the cauldron. The contents were charred and blackened, reduced to a chunky ash mixture. Perfect. I grabbed a pestle and ground the chunks into a fine powder.
As I worked, I hummed the enchantment under my breath. I glanced nervously at my bed to make sure the dragon was still sleeping to find that Hex had literally tucked them into my covers.
I really needed to figure out a name for the dragon at some point. It was getting old thinking about them as just “the dragon”. Maybe they would appreciate something pretty, like Rose. Or Daffodil. Or if they would be particular like Hex and demand to choose their own name.
The other two eggs were, gratefully or unfortunately, still sitting unchanged in the cracked cauldron. It was probably for the best—if they all had hatched at the same time we would really be in trouble.
Scooping the powder concoction into the palm of my hand, I quickly performed a ritual on the door and windows, securing the building. I could’ve sworn I heard echoes of the chant from the sprites in the shop, but that must have been my imagination.
Magic hummed in the air, lifting loose strands of my hair and buzzing my bones. I breathed it in deep, relishing the way it filled my lungs and fizzled through my veins.
As it faded, a wave of exhaustion took over.
The suns were close to rising, I would get scarce few hours of sleep by the look of things.
I didn’t even have the energy to remove the dragon from my bed. I crawled under the covers, staying on the very edge of the bed to keep a wide gap between the critter and me. It was impossibly warm, radiating heat more than even Tandor did.
I resisted the urge to snuggle up to them. I didn’t think they would appreciate it, and I wasn’t in the mood to get bit by those sharp little teeth.
I looked around for a flash of white fur. Casper might as well pile into the bed, too, while we were at it. As if she read my mind, the small cat hopped onto the foot of the bed and promptly curled up and closed her eyes.
It was a gods damned slumber party all over again.
Tandor would lose his mind if he could see this right now.
Feeling strangely comfortable and exhausted to the bone, while tiny movements jostled strands of my hair, sleep pulled me under.
CHAPTER 6
Fiella
“Do you think she’s dead?” I asked Redd, pounding my fist into the front door of Kizzi’s apothecary shop for what felt like the thousandth time.
“She’s not dead,” he murmured. “Probably still sleeping. Or out searching early.”
“Kizzi doesn’t wake up early,” I grumbled. She barely woke up earlier than I did, and that wasn’t saying much. I pounded on the door harder. “Kizziah Cedarton!”
“Don’t you have a key?” Redd asked calmly, oblivious to the seed of panic that was blooming in the pit of my stomach.
“Not anymore.”
“You lost it?”
I glanced at him sidelong. “Maybe.”
He exhaled through his nose. “She’s somewhere.”
“Very helpful,” I snapped. “Thanks.”
He lifted his brows at me, turning to examine the door. He peered at the wood, fresh and bright, repaired only weeks ago by himself. He ran his fingers over the hinges, squinting in concentration. “Should I get my tools and take the door off?”
