Even Andreas—he was befuddling and strange, sure, but he didn’t lie. He wasn’t cruel without reason.
It was merely driving me a little bit insane that he sat there, holding my hands and looking at me, without saying anything at all.
Should I?
I had no idea what to say. If I asked to stay, he very well might tell me I didn’t belong there, and I didn’t want to hear it. Maybe another day, I could stomach it, but right then I felt raw, on the edge of something only partly realized, and I didn’t want to be told to let it go before I’d even figured out whatitwas.
I could apologize for getting so near the egg. I didn’t have permission, and clearly, he hadn’t wanted me anywhere near it unsupervised, but—well, he didn’t look angry either.
In fact, the stubborn set of his jaw had relaxed, and he was just... looking. So I looked back and held my tongue and hoped that I was doing the right thing instead of listening tothat impulse that’d gotten me stuck in the dunce corner during tutoring while my brother practiced his kingly graces.
I didn’t hate how Andreas looked at me, even though after a while, my cheeks started to turn red. This was... intimate.
Relief washed over me when he rose, pulling me up with him without releasing my hands. “Come on.”
He led me over to his bed, and when he sat me down on it, he pulled a blanket over my legs.
Fuck, it was sweet. Caring in a way I’d never expected.
I wished he’d stay.
“You could sleep in your own bed,” I blurted out, scooting back. “With me, I mean. There’s plenty of room.” Too much room, even for a prince, and I figured that had something to do with the other dragons, and whether they wanted to spend the night there or not.
Andreas hadn’t had anyone come spend the night since I’d been there, but obviously, it could happen. Probably had, not to go assuming, but what else were four men out in the middle of nowhere to do with themselves?
There was something about this arrangement that struck me as sweet—a kind of camaraderie entirely lacking from the affairs at court. Marriages between the families of the mages who Athelstan had taken in and taught—the people who inherited land and raised militias to defend it—were rarely forged for love, so I couldn’t begrudge anyone for looking beyond the confines of their vows. I’d been a willing participant in more than a few affairs, in fact. But the way the dragons shared, without demand or possessiveness, struck me as generous and loving, rather than duplicitous and self-serving.
I liked it—liked the idea of the others crawling into bed. Waking up between Harri and Bran had felt warmer and cozier than anything I could remember.
I hoped, when I wasn’t here, Andreas had that too, and it was just my presence that’d thrown everything off for them.
Andreas didn’t respond right away, but he leaned in. The bridge of his nose pressed against my temple, and it wasn’t quite a kiss, but it had the feel of one.
It also had the same feel as a “no.”
“I should tend the egg,” he said quietly, right over my ear.
I sighed and settled in, but allowed myself the pleasure of watching him undress. Considering he’d had me naked in his lap earlier, it only seemed fair I get to appreciate his taut backside before he rolled his shoulders and transformed.
That night, Andreas didn’t curl around the egg so tightly. It was still protected, of course. He shielded it from the outside world with his enormous dragon body, and now that I could see them both clearly, without him hiding the egg away from me, it struck me how similar in color the shell was to his scales.
They were beautiful, the both of them, and I slept a little easier knowing he wasn’t so set on defending it from me too.
9
ANDREAS
It was the firewood.
I’d thought myself so damned clever, leaving it behind. It was too much, too heavy, to bother carrying along with us when we ran, and it had saved us multiple dangerous trips to leave it behind.
What I hadn’t taken into account was the possibility of a particularly bad winter. We’d started replacing the wood once we’d found a spot, but it wasn’t enough, and here, now, was the eventuality we weren’t prepared for. A horrible storm toward the end of winter, when our stores were completely depleted.
I’d have just sucked it up, gone to someone else’s cave and snuggled up, since the three of them were prone to all staying together on cold nights, but there was a single problem in that: Eilonwy’s egg.
Even if I took it with me, that would expose it to the chill for as long as it took me to get it out of the cave and into another, and I had no idea if it could survive that. This was, admittedly, a failing of knowledge on my part, since it was possible it would be fine.
It was also possible it would die and I’d be responsible for that.
