I resumed my search for comfort with my muscles tighter than usual.
Ultimately, I decided that the comfiest place for Brambleby was right next to me in bed.
Praying to the Old Gods that he wouldn’t go rogue in the middle of the night and maul me to death, I settled the dragon into the pillows and tucked him in.
CHAPTER 2
Ginger
It turned out that dragons were miserable sleep companions.
Brambleby had somehow managed to steal the coversandthe pillows from me in the night, spreading out wider than I thought possible.
For a critter the size of a small cat, he demanded an impressive amount of space.
It was ridiculous.
And adorable.
Consequently, I was exhausted.
“Hey, Ginger! Those ales?” a customer asked as I absentmindedly drifted by their table. The fae woman had asked for ales twice now, and the request had gone in one of my ears and out the other.
My sleep deprived brain wasnotcooperating.
I scrubbed my forehead with my palm. “Right. Ale. Sorry about that! Coming right up!”
“What’s on your mind, Ginny? Your head is in the cloudstoday. You’re usually on top of these things,” Tandor quipped as he brushed past me, setting the ales on the customer’s table for me. They thanked him and shot concerned glances in my direction.
“Didn’t sleep much,” I mumbled. “The beast kept me up.”
The orc snorted. “That’s motherhood for you.”
I grabbed a towel, quickly wiping down a vacated table as Tandor lingered nearby to pick up a few empty goblets. “Spoken like someone who knows.”
“Oh, absolutely. Raine still wakes me and Kizzi up in the middle of the night trying to snuggle in between us. And he’s usually cold as ice, too. It’s the worst.”
I snorted. “You poor thing.” The mental image made me laugh.
Raine, the blue dragon with an affinity for water and ice, had been adopted by Kizzi and Tandor, and she was a mighty terror. Not as mischievous as Ember, Fiella and Redd’s fire dragon, but a very close second.
Brambleby, so far, was an angelic by comparison.
Or maybe he just hadn’t shown his full personality yet.
I would find out soon, because I had left him alone in my cottage this morning when I left for work. I attempted to bring him with me, but he refused to budge.
I smiled to myself. Lazy little beast.
If I returned to my cottage in rubble, I would kill him.
Not actually, of course. I would never—even if he razed the entire town to the ground.
But I would certainly be upset. Perhaps I would scold him. Gently.
I turned to wipe down the next table and stopped short. The towel dropped to the floor with a resounding splat.
The table was occupied.
