He ran his tongue over his incisors. “I dislike the dull teeth and lack of claws. Hunting and eating like this isn’t worth the bother.”
She ate half the rabbit and left the other half for morning.
“Thank you for my dinner,” she said, then her gaze hardened, sharpened as she added, “When you turn into dragon at dawn… Do not put me in your mouth while I’m sleeping. Not even just to taste me.”
He grunted.
She would not move her gaze from him. “How would you feel if someone put you in their mouth while you slept?”
For the love of dragonkind… Her words heated his body and had him hardening all over. “I would not mind.”
“I do.” She fixed him with a glare, her hand moving to the pommel of her sword so as to leave no doubt that she would defend herself.
“Aye,” he said with a grunt of displeasure. “I will not taste you again.” He couldn’t resist adding, “I give you my word as a dragon.”
She gave a brief nod, then curled up next to the fire and closed her eyes.
He watched her for a while—soft cheeks, graceful neck, full lips, and lovely hips, those long legs, encased in nothing but britches. The longer he watched her, the hotter the fire felt. The more he wanted her. Since dragons, in general, weren’t known for their self-restraint, he stood and strode into the forest.
He wasn’t tired; he’d woken up from a long slumber mere days ago. He wasn’t hungry for meat; the deer herd he ate after he’d awoken filled him up. He stalked through the forest for a while, hoping he might come across a bear he could wrestle for entertainment, but the bears stayed out of his way, so he returned to the fairy circle, doing his best to keep his mind off the maiden sleeping by the fire. He kept track of the predators in the area by their scent. They’d scented him too, so none neared. Einin was safe.
Draknart stared at the toppled stones for a few moments, then, gritting his teeth, he stomped to the nearest one and heaved until he righted it. Mayhap he was sentimental, but he’d seen those stones erected. The men and women had been coarser and at the same time more refined than the ones in the villages now. They had respected the old gods and followed the old ways. There had been something sacred in their creating of the stone circle, so Draknart had watched them from the shadows and hadn’t eaten a single one.
Even the old gods had come to the circle, their curiosity aroused. The clearing had been a holy glen of theirs to begin with. They were so pleased with the humans’ gift, they made the stone circle into a gate.
Draknart lifted and heaved boulders that had taken ropes and oxen to raise back in the day. He put his shoulder into the work, uncaring of cuts and scrapes. Only when the circle stood once again, the sky lightening with the first rays of the sun, did he return to Einin.
By the time she sleepily blinked her eyes open, he was once again a dragon. The moment she saw him, her hand flew to her sword. But a heartbeat or two later, she relaxed, letting go of the weapon.
She sat and yawned, then stretched. The effect of her body in those damned formfitting britches was the same on Draknart as it had been before. The man inside him stirred and wanted to claim her.
Gods help him. Make the day go fast.
“Do we return home?” Einin asked, her gaze calculating.
“We stay another day,” he told her. They needed to wait until twilight to see if the restored fairy circle would work.
She turned toward the lake, thinking deeply about something, her shirt stretched over perfect breasts perfectly outlined in the muted light of dawn. She raked tiny white pearls of teeth over her full, ruby bottom lip.
“I’ll go look around from above,” Draknart said and launched to the air to fly a few circles.
He spotted a bear—the one that had been too cowardly to challenge him in the night—a large pack of wolves, as well as some smaller game, but no men, not nearby at least. The nearest village was on the other side of the lake.
Draknart did go for a visit. He dipped into a low flyover when he reached the ragtag collection of huts—much screaming and running about—but he did not scent the ones who’d destroyed the fairy circle. He didn’t set as much as a single thatched roof on fire. He was a picture of fairness and self-control, he was. Einin couldn’t find a fault in him this morning.
By the time he returned to her, landing in the middle of their small beach, she’d washed her face, rebraided her hair, and eaten the second half of her rabbit.
“What will we do today?” she asked, with only a hint of wariness.
“How about I take you flying?” Their flights had made her laugh before. He wanted to hear the sound again, although, the feel of her slim thighs clamped around his neck was likely to give him a heart attack.
Too late to back out now. He’d already made the offer.
The wariness disappeared from her eyes, replaced by enthusiasm. “Yes! Please. I mean, thank you. I would like that.”
She hurried to him, and Draknart held still while she climbed his scaled body, no matter the thoughts those small hands all over him put into his mind.
“Ready?”
