His lip curled in disgust. “Why?”
That brought me up short. “I suppose it’s the polite thing to say, but—also, because you’re a dragon, and I’ve never had occasion to speak to a dragon before. Well, unless you count last night, but we weren’t doing very much talking.”
If I weren’t mistaken, a flush was creeping its way up Andreas’s neck.
“Get dressed,” he snapped.
The water splashed around my legs as I made my way out onto the burnt shore. Dismayed, I looked at my clothes, smoldering on a rock.
A few of the trees still smoked, but the worst of the fire had ended as quickly as he’d spat it at me.
I was able to put my things out by stamping them with dirt, but there were still singed holes, and the cloak was even more of a mess than it’d been when I brought it here.
I dabbed my skin dry with the cloak and pulled on my trousers and shirt before clasping my boots again. The shoes, at least, were in decent shape.
He’d turned away, and I had the chance to admire his very fine back. His shoulders were broad, and the dip of his spineswept down beautifully. There were dimples above his taut ass. Were dragons just well-shaped? Maybe it had something to do with their transformations, how the body rearranged itself so easily. They were all beautiful, but Andreas?—
Maybe it was because he disliked me, but he was the most beautiful of them all.
“Here.” I nudged his arm with the damp cloak. It was better than nothing, right?
Andreas scowled at me like I’d gone daft. “What is this?”
“I thought—” I sucked in my cheeks, pressed my molars into the smooth flesh. “There’s no sense trekking through the wilds all—” I waved at his bare skin. “Unless you intend to fly back.”
His eyes narrowed further. “I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
“Right. I thought not.” I grimaced, glancing away, then forcing myself to meet his eyes again. “But if it’s all the same to you, I think I’d like to keep my feet on the ground right now.”
He glared at me so long I wondered if he was going to give me a choice.
Then, he snatched the cloak.
“Fine,” he said, swinging it around his shoulders.
Then he held out his hand, both eyebrows arching high.
Of course. He wouldn’t want to turn his back on me.
“On we go then,” I said, bright and chipper as I stepped ahead of him, picking my way on a winding path toward camp.
5
ANDREAS
ACavendish.
We had taken a Cavendish prisoner. The very thought had driven me almost to madness, because there wasn’t a dragon alive who didn’t know the story of their progenitor, Athelstan, who had killed countless dragons.
The moment Gareth had told me, all I could picture had been Eilonwy. Her warm blue scales and swirling eyes. Her laughter.
Pieces of her strewn across the ground like so much refuse.
Humans had murdered my sister, and the humans who were best at murdering dragons had always been the Cavendish line.
And somehow, against all common sense, this soft, sweet little human my clan had spent the night fucking was a Cavendish. I didn’t doubt it. His magic was undeniable. The moment he’d been in danger, he’d snatched the air from my lungs. Easily, because it wasn’t like he’d been in a position to pause and consider his actions.
He said he had never killed anyone, and . . . perhaps I was the most unwise dragon to ever lead others, but I believed him.
