She left smiles in her wake.
She was a joy spreader, my wife. Light incarnate.
Her light reminded me of something. A feeling. A flash of a memory, but it drifted away in a plume of smoke before I could grab onto it.
My skull throbbed.
I massaged at my temples beneath the hood of my stolen cloak.
As I watched her through the bakery’s window, digging through her satchel and pulling out my gift and then tucking it away again, my cheek lifted into a satisfied grin.
She accepted my second courting gift. Three more, and she would be mine.
Once and for all.
CHAPTER 9
Ginger
The days before the start of Miss and Mister Moonvale drifted by like flower petals on the wind, and as they passed, the cold began to loosen its grasp on the town. The breeze no longer sliced at my cheeks, but merely stung.
The eerie feeling refused to release me from its clutches.
As Brambleby grew more confident, committed to exploring and chasing squirrels, I started to dread letting him outside. I could never deny him, though. The second he turned his sad eyes in my direction, I was a goner.
My ears flicked wildly at every sound, my eyes darting to catch the culprit. Again and again, I saw nothing. Found nothing.
My spine stayed ramrod straight where I sat on the park bench. I couldn’t relax.
Even the journal in my lap couldn’t capture my attention and calm my nerves. I was writing downeverything. Absolutely everything. The things Bram ate (nearly everything I put in front of him). The things Bram did (mainly slept). Every minute detail.
I wrote what I could about Raine and Ember, too. The three dragons were so unique it was as though they were almost different species entirely.
“Get him, Bram! Go for his back legs!” Linc called from a park bench nearby, watching the three dragons wrestle as he munched on a piece of toasted bread.
“His wings, Bram! Slap his wings! He hates that!” Fiella added.
I glanced at her questioningly. “You’re cheering for your dragon to get taken down?”
She shrugged. “He could use a dose of humility. It would serve him well.”
“Interesting parenting technique,” I mused. “But sure.” Louder, I yelled, “Wings, Bram!”
Fiella strode to the other side of the park to get a better viewing angle.
Brambleby dove, tucking his head down and ramming his little horns right into the base of Ember’s wing. The fire dragon squeaked loudly before whirling, clamping his teeth down on Brambleby’s tail.
The skirmish continued. Raine waited patiently a few paces away, seeking the perfect opportunity to dive in and take down both male dragons.
The beasts plowed happily through a pile of leaves and twigs.
“We ought to start taking bets,” Kizzi murmured as she joined, glancing around at the gathered crowd. She settled onto the bench next to me.
Every day, rain or shine, freezing or tolerable, folk waited for the dragons to come outside and play.
They laughed, joked, called out their bets. It was chaos.
And my little green monster was at the heart of it.
