“What’s that? Hex eating rocks again?” I asked.
“Hex doesn’t eat rocks,” the witch said distractedly as she grabbed a cloth from a basket and headed back into her room. “They just wanted to try it that one time.”
I snorted. “Sure. Whatever you say. Weirdos.”
A strange smell caught my attention then. Something like ozone and fire, different from the usual magic and cinnamon scent of Kizzi’s apothecary. Something wild. I tilted my head, glancing at Redd to see if he noticed it too. He was too busytracking a sprite with his eyes, watching him attempt to flip through the pages of a book that was much bigger than he was.
Kizzi fumbled noisily with something in her room, huffing with effort. Grumbled curses mixed with the sound of rustling fabric.
“Kiz?” I asked. “What’s going on in there? Is Tandor here?” I shivered with that thought, imagining the horror of interrupting my best friend and her man doing something unsavory. “You have guests over!”
“Oof,” she huffed. “One second! You’re going to love this.”
“Am I?” I braced myself for something horrifying. Like garlic. Or disgusting. Like bugs. Or somewhere in between. There were countless unpleasant possibilities.
“I would’ve shown you earlier, but… I’ve been a little busy fortifying the place.”
“Okay. Now I'm nervous.”
She cursed again. Smoke met my nostrils. Had she blown out a candle? “Almost. Ready. Hang on.”
I crossed my arms, leaning my hip against a shelf. I couldn’t see much through the doorway to Kizzi’s back bedroom, as she had kicked it most of the way shut.
My stomach snarled, echoed by a slight twinge in my throat. I needed a pastry as soon as possible or I would surely perish.
My thirst for blood had been almost entirely quenched as of late, thanks to my wonderful mate and his eager willingness to share the blood pumping through his veins. My cheeks warmed at the thought of his fangs in my flesh, and mine in his. The euphoria that accompanied. I glanced in his direction to meet his gaze, and he lifted a brow at my expression.
We were interrupted by Kizzi kicking the door to her bedroom open wide. It met the far wall with a smack that rattled glass bottles on shelves.
My jaw hit the floor. Redd inhaled sharply.
There, curled in Kizzi’s arms, wrangled into a chaotic bundle of cloth, was the little dragon, looking drowsy and furious. Fire sparked in its eyes.
“Surprise!” Kizzi said quietly. Her expression was tense, her cheeks flushed, and her jaw clenched tight. A strand of her green hair hanging by her ear was charred and curled in on itself. Burned.
I couldn’t tell if she was happy or scared. Or both.
“You found him.”
“I did. Well, technically, Hex did. I gave him a sleeping potion, but I think it’s wearing off. Wait, how do you know it’s a boy?”
I shrugged. I couldn’t put a finger on it, really. I just knew. Something about the way the scales flared over the creature’s forehead. “I think his name is Ember.”
“You think?”
I shrugged again, feeling confused and helpless. “I think. You’re the one with the magic. You tell me.”
Kizzi stepped closer, holding the wriggling mass in her arms as tightly as she could. “I’ve been trying to figure out the name, but nothing came to me. The fates must’ve wanted you to know.”
That sentiment warmed my stomach. I felt special. Chosen. Sure, Kizzi was the Hand of the Dragons or whatever, but I wasn’t useless.
I peered at the creature, meeting his burning gaze. He didn’t look evil, he looked more nervous than anything. I would be, too, if I was a baby thrust into a scary, new world after living in a cozy eggshell for hundreds of years.
“Hi, Ember,” I said to the dragon, feeling only a little stupid. There was no way the creature would understand me, but I didn’t know how else to forge a connection.
The dragon huffed, letting out a small wisp of steam between sharp teeth. They looked even sharper than my own fangs. Impressive. I was a little jealous.
Kizzi shifted onto her heels. “What do we do with him?”
