The next morning, we return to our routine of research in the library. Skye sits beside me in the reading room, nibbling on her lower lip as she skims through a book. When her hand pats at the table, groping for a treat, I nudge the little packet of the sweet-hot candies closer.
She slips one between her candy-pink lips, and I bite back a groan and toss several of the sweets into my mouth, crunching down so their flavor explodes across my tongue. I now carry a stash of Skye’s favorite treat in my storage pocket. If anyone questions my actions, I’ll protest I only do it to aid her research endeavors, but it’s a half-truth. I like them as well. They remind me of her sweet and spicy taste.
I’ve been a researcher for centuries, yet never have I found it so hard to focus as now. Her little sighs, her floral scent spiked with a touch of cinnamon, the brush of her softskin as our fingers tangle when I hand her a book. Everything about her is designed purely to torment me, to remind me of our encounter, of sinking into her soft curves and heat.
As I reach for another book, a ripple of magic shivers through the castle, setting the wisteria swaying. Someone approaches, a being of great magic.
Skye gives a soft gasp. “What was that?”
“Company.” I shove from the table and stride for the door, Skye at my side.
Princess Buttercup bolts from her favorite cat bed, hidden under low boughs of wisteria. She prances down the hallway in front of us, her bushy tail high. “Company? They totally need to meet me. I’m the best part!”
I snort in amusement, picturing our visitor’s face when confronted with the tiny feline.
Another wave of magic rolls over us as we reach the front door. When I throw it open, a strong wind blasts my hair back, and Skye makes a muffled squeak, clutching at her arms. Right, the cold. I stoke my fire magic higher and encapsulate her in a bubble of warm air.
The courtyard dims, cast into shade as a dragon eclipses the sun. Two more great wing beats gust wintry air over us, and Princess Buttercup runs over to Skye with a happy cry, “Hey, you’re warm! I didn’t know you had that kind of magic.”
“It’s not me,” Skye says. “Luke’s doing it.”
“Iknewwe kept him around for a reason.”
Then there’s no more time for banter, because an ice-blue dragon lands on the castle bailey with a thump that shakes the ground. His wings point upward for several seconds,spread like sails as tall as a tower, before he accordions them onto his back. A massive horned head swings in our direction, cocked to spear us with one vertical-pupilled eye. “Lukendevener. You summoned me?”
“You’re on Earth now, Jacenrevener. You need to shift.” I bare my fangs. “My message said as much.”
“It did.” He dips his head without offering any further explanation as to why he ignored my advice.
Yet I know. He wanted to make an entrance, to let everyone here see how powerful he is. As one of the few ice dragons in Alarria, he’s always been somewhat of an outcast. It’s one of the things that drew us together. My inability to shift fully might not have had a physical manifestation while the doors of Faerie were closed, but other dragons can sense it, can feel that something’s broken within me. The only ones who’ve never cared are younglings, since their magic isn’t strong enough to detect the flaw. Adults find me difficult to be around.
The feline familiar prances up to him. “I’m Princess Buttercup!”
“She wants you to know her name is Princess Buttercup,” I growl, since he doesn’t carry one of my new translation crystals.
“Royalty.” Jacenrevener lowers his head to see her better. “I’m honored.”
“You should be.” Her nose extends forward so she can sniff at one of his talons, the claw as long as she is. If his great size daunts her, it doesn’t show. She appears as self-assured as always. “You don’t smell smoky.”
I answer for him. “That’s because he’s an ice dragon,whereas I’m a fire dragon.”
“Oh.” Skye’s eyes go wide as they bounce back and forth between the two of us. “Are you two going to battle it out allGame of Thronesstyle?”
“Of course not.” A frown pinches my brow. I have no idea what she refers to, but I didn’t call him here for a fight. “Jacenrevener is my friend.”
“Is that what we are?” His voice sounds cool and distant, but the twitch of his tail gives him away. He’s not as disinterested in my answer as he tries to appear, and I understand his reaction all too well. Centuries of being treated with cool disdain by the other dragons has made both of us wary.
I’m ready to change that. I thought I came to Earth for new research opportunities, but I now realize I also wanted a new start away from the dragons who think less of me. If I’m going to have this new life, I need to be more open to people. Skye’s shown me that. I’ll never match her inherent warmth and kindness, which are as boundless as the open sky, but I can be better.
“It is.” I give a firm nod. “You’re my friend.” There, I’ve said it. He can make of it what he will.
Instead of answering, Jacenrevener sends a pulse of magic barreling outward. It leaves him in his dual form. He has light skin and ice-blue eyes, his facial features as sharp as any fae’s. Silver horns spiral upward out of long hair the same blue as his wings and tail.
And his cocks hang free for all to see.
“Why are there two?” Princess Buttercup asks, looking as if she’s about to rear up and swat at his danglingappendages.
Skye makes a strangled sound, her knuckles jammed into her mouth.
