"What do you mean by that?" He quirks his head to the side and looks at me oddly.
"You don't feel the dormant power within her?" I shake my head, puzzled by this revelation.
"No, should I?" He scans the wood line, watching for fire like I am.
"She's not on edge around you, so it probably remains suppressed. With me, I feel surges of power within her. It's as if her wolf is railing against my dragon for dominance." A hearty chuckle escapes my lips as I watch the horizon.
"What's so funny?" Torben moves to stand in front of me. His bear is close to the surface.
"Remember what your book about her Luna line said?" I tilt my head, looking at him, waiting for reality to set in.
He shrugs and shakes his head no. "A Luna is only as strong as her pack. A wolf's pack is its family."
His eyes flare with the power of his bear as his head whips toward the woods, then back at me. "Shit..." He paces, then looks at me again. I think he's finally connected the dots.
"She has a wyrm skull dragon mate, an ancient phoenix, a basilisk, and a berserker Kodiak. We are the most powerful of each of our species. Imagine when she accepts my scale and bonds with me properly." I tilt my head, looking down at him. My dragon rises to the surface to greet him.
Torben takes a step back, then almost jumps out of his skin when Feray touches him from behind. The melodic giggle that escapes her lips makes my smug dragon tilt his head, listening to her. The brazen little wolf steps into my personal space and stares up at me, her eyes burning yellow.
"Don't laugh at him." She slaps my chest, then moves past me.
"You like living dangerously, don't you, little one?" My voice drops octaves lower than I usually allow. My dragon wants control, and he's trying to croon to his mate.
The change in pitch makes white fur race up her arms, and she stops. She glances over her shoulder at me. Her eyes are her wolf's, and I can see bone plates shifting under her skin. Without warning, she throws her sundress off and shifts suddenly. Her wolf walks up to me without fear and stares defiantly into my eyes, challenging my dragon.
She's worthy...
The cantankerous bastard finally speaks to me after centuries of silence.
"Enjoy your hunt, Feray. When you return, I would like to offer you something very valuable."
She glances toward Torben and barks at him. The bear walks off and starts stripping.
A cold, wet nose touches my hand—Feray trying to get my attention. "I can't hunt with you yet. There are things that need to be done before I introduce you to my beast." Smiling, I take a knee before her. "He wants to meet you very badly. Both your human and wolf intrigue him." Stifling a laugh, I listen to my dragon remind me about the mug. "He says thank you for our mug. It's the most precious thing in his hoard."
Feray's wolf tilts its head, studying me, then steps closer. When she's finally within reach, I slowly extend a hand and run my fingers through her thick pelt. Her fur is as soft as I imagine petting a cloud would feel. Unlike the run-of-the-mill wolves I'm used to seeing, her coat has two distinct layers. The outside layer gets thicker for winter, providing added protection as the weather turns harsh. The inside layer covers the skin closely and acts as a waterproof barrier to keep their skin dry and warm. Having felt her fur, I know without a doubt she comes from the Crescent Valley Pack. The Dunnam Pack migrates south when the harshest part of winter hits, or they remain in human form. They don't have the same pelt—theirs lacks the second layer. The Crescent Valley Pack shifts to wolf form and remains as wolves all winter.
"You are exquisite, Feray." My words come out softer than I intended. Her wolf cocks its head but doesn't pull away as she stares into my eyes. Hesitantly, she takes another step forwardand presses her muzzle to my cheek like a human would before she turns and bounds off.
"That could have gone very badly..." Easton's cocky tone makes me want to roast him on the spot.
"Thanks, fire chicken..." Rolling my eyes, I shift my hand, allowing scales to erupt over my human flesh. I stare at my armored scales, noting the damage from wars gone by. "I wonder which scale she would want more..." I muse, turning my hand over, slowly scrutinizing every scale.
"I'm sure any of them would be valuable to her if you explain the meaning behind it." Easton turns his gaze upon me, and the fire in his eyes tells me his bird is offering the advice, not the man.
"How did you choose which feather to give her?" Now's the perfect time to put him on the spot. Easton's steady movements falter, and his normal nervous tick kicks in. His fingers move to every inch of his pressed shirt, making sure not a button is out of place before he turns to look at me.
"I didn't. My bird forced the shift one night after work, and we flew home. When we landed on the rail of my balcony, he plucked a feather and left it on the table."
"You know perfectly well I cannot shift in front of her until she has my scale." My voice is a rough growl, making my throat feel raw from the exertion.Take one from our chest...My dragon growls in my head and shifts the flesh over our sternum.It will grow back...He's right—these scales grow the fastest and rejuvenate the quickest.
Glancing up, I look at Easton. "I'm going to need your help upon her return. Heal her once I implant the scale."
I unbutton my vest and remove my tie. Nimble fingers go to my dress shirt, and I undo several buttons, exposing my battle-hardened scales. Each one bears its own damage from years of war.
"You know I will," Easton responds as he looks my scales over. "It would be wise to let her choose. After all, she is the one who will wear it."
"Who will wear what?" My inamorata's sweet voice shocks me—she's so close. How much of our conversation did she hear?
