“Am I not supposed to look like this?” Jacenrevener asks. With another pulse of magic, my friend does what I cannot. He shifts into his fae form, the horns, wings, tail, and claws disappearing, along with his upper cock. He looks fully human but for his fangs and pointed ears.
This is what I can never be. This is what I can never offer Skye.
The avid curiosity in her gaze as she takes in his fae form hits me like a punch to the gut.
My magic rises within me, my internal fire roaring higher as my body fights to shift, to become what she likes, to match the man she made love to so vigorously while we were inside the book. Yet exactly as it has done for centuries, my power slams into a wall of broken mirror, getting caught in the cracks instead of being able to complete the shift. My magic burns away, leaving behind the same weredragon form I started as. I have failed yet again.
I can never be what she wants.
“Take whichever form you like,” I snap, all of my frustration pouring out of me. “Only clothe yourself. Humans don’t go around naked.”
Jacenrevener reaches into his storage pocket and pulls out a set of clothes. He yanks dark-blue velvet breeches over his hips and shrugs into a linen shirt topped by a brocade light-blue waistcoat and a long dark-blue frock coat embroidered with silver. White hose and leather shoes complete the look.
“Fudging fudgesicles,” Skye whispers. “It’s just likeOutlander!”
“What’sOutlander?” he asks, plopping a tricorn hat onto his head. I’d forgotten about those.
“A time-travel romance book and TV series,” she says.
“That clarified nothing.” My friend looks at me, cocking an eyebrow in query.
I don’t know what thisOutlanderis either, but if it’s made this much of an impression on her, I’ll add it to my secret reading list.
For now, I cut to the meat of the matter. “It means you’re three-hundred years out of date. You need new clothes.”
“You wanted me for my magic, and it works no matter what I wear.” He shrugs, his shoulders moving freely without wings. In fact, his entire body moves with a lightness I can barely remember from all those centuries ago.
“What are you here to do?” Skye asks.
“Is it chicken?” Princess Buttercup weaves around his legs, leaving a stripe of black and orange hair across his white hose. “Please tell me you can make chicken appear.”
The pretty witch chuckles and translates, and Jacenrevener laughs with her. “Sorry, little one. No chicken.”
“Humph.” The cat stops circling his legs and plonks down on a sun-warmed stone. One hind leg reaches for the sky, toes spread, and she starts to bathe herself.
“We should go before she starts licking her girl parts,” Skye says.
“You didn’t complain that time stinky guy licked your girl parts.” Princess Buttercup stares at her owner. “So why is it horrible if I take a bath?”
Skyemakes a high sound, like a teakettle beginning to boil, and turns dark pink.
“What did she say?” Jacenrevener asks.
The little witch turns to me, shaking her head, cornflower eyes beseeching.
“Nothing,” I tell the other dragon, then lean over to whisper in her ear, “Who is this odoriferous male?” And what do I need to do to make sure he never touches a single hair on Skye’s head, let alone gets to bury his head between her sweet thighs?
“He…” Her voice catches, and she swallows and starts again. “He was just a date from a few years ago. He wore too much cologne and didn’t close his mouth when he chewed.”
“He wasn’t very nice to her,” the cat says. “I didn’t like him.”
Skye turns even redder, her face crumpling into a look of shame.
“No, none of that.” I tip up her chin. “His actions speak only of his own character and have no reflection on you.”
“Exactly.” Princess Buttercup rolls up to standing and trots over to strop across my shins. “That’s why I peed in his shoes.”
A chuckle rumbles out of me, the cat’s words catching me by surprise.
