When I glance in her direction, one of Skye’s shoulders twitches in an awkward shrug, and she nibbles on her lower lip, her cheeks pinkening. “I could tell you missed them.”
“I did.” I hug the little ones to me. “Thank you.”
A smile breaks across her face like the sun cresting the horizon, warm and happy and full of hope. “I might have been an eensy bit selfish, too.” She holds up her thumb and forefinger with only a half inch between them. “I mean, who doesn’t want to see baby dragons?”
“Would you like to hold one?” I ask.
“Oh, can I?”
“Reevie.” I look down at my nephew. “Would you like to meet Skye? She’s a…” By the goddess, what do I call her? I default to how she referred to me. “She’s my friend.”
He turns his huge amber eyes on her. “Hi, Skye.”
“Hi, Reevie.” She steps close and reaches out hesitantly.
I coil the end of my tail around her wrist to bring her hand to his forehead.
Her face comes alive as he lets out a little chirrup and pushes into her touch. Then he twists in my arms and leap-glides into Skye’s. His little claws dig into the soft material of her bright pink sweater as he clings to her front, but she doesn’t seem to mind.
“I like you,” he says with all the innocence and ease of childhood.
It’s the same unconditional love he offers me. The same acceptance I don’t receive from any other member of my family.
“I like you, too,” Skye whispers, pressing a kiss to his forehead.
Seeing the two of them together twists something tight in my chest, creating a new kind of ache. For a moment, I imagine Skye holds my child—ourchild—a possibility I never allowed myself to hope for these past centuries, since no dragon ever wanted me for a mate. It’s a sweet dream.
“I’ll come back later, yeah?” Naomi says.
“I’ll text you when we’re done.” Skye looks up from Reevie. “Thanks again.”
“Yes, thank you.” I tip my head to the teleporting witch, who disappears with a faint pop.
With Reevie no longer in their way, Liloo and Bokri clamber around in my arms, exploring my dual form with interest. Liloo pats the skin of my face, while Bokri hangs over my shoulder to run one small hand along the top edge of my wing.
“Is this what you’d like a lesson on today? The weredragon form?” They’re too young to shift—dragons need to be at least twenty before trying—but it’s good that they’re curious, and knowledge is never wasted.
“No lessons!” Reevie twists to look at me.
I frown down at him, thoroughly confused. Teaching is what I always do with the younglings, why I get to spend time with them.
My nephew turns back to Skye. “You promised.”
“In my message, I promised them story time.” Her lips spread into a quick, sheepish smile. She waves her hand over a clear spot on the floor. “I thought you could all sit here, and—”
“No,” I say. We are, after all, dragons, and superior beings don’t sit on the floor. “No floor.”
My internal fire leaps higher as I call upon my magic, reaching for my connection to the library. It answers, already feeling more alive and whole than even a week ago when I asked it to make the reading nook in the romance collection. I give it a pulse of pure magic to fuel my request and ask for another such chaise lounge. Power ripples through the air, and the lounge appears, its golden velvet gleaming in the light of the portal door.
Settling back on it, I loosen my grip so that Liloo and Bokri can move about at will.
“Ooo,” Liloo croons, pushing against the cushion to feel how it gives under her weight. “Is this furniture? It’s so soft.”
“Why don’t we have any at home?” Bokri asks.
“There’s no furniture strong enough to hold an adult dragon in their natural form,” I say. Let alone the flammability issues involved. Younglings have little control when they first get their fire magic. There’s a reason we live in caves in our dragon form.
“I want furniture!” Reevie strains forward in Skye’s hold, little arms stretching toward the couch. She sets him on my legs, and he starts exploring.
