Through the narrow gaps, Ash caught sight of dark, hulking buildings a short distance from the treeline. Not houses or cottages. The nearest one looked as if it had grown out of the ground, its walls a fusion of black-veined stone and thick, gray vine wood. It crouched low beneath the mist, draped in moss and shadow, blending in as if it preferred to go unseen.
At the side of the building, clothes hung on a taut metal cord strung between carved posts, fluttering in the morning breeze like scaled banners.
In the grassy field beyond, six-legged animals resembling scaled bovines, larger than any cow she’d seen, grazed in lazy arcs, steam curling from their nostrils in the cold morning air.
Ash frowned, her gaze fixed on the eerie building. “This is the, er, village?”
“No. Wait here.” He vanished like an apparition.
Ash shivered, no longer swathed by his incredible heat, and waited in trepidation. Unease crawled through her as the silence grew, broken only by the occasional…mooing. She almost laughed at the familiarity.
A figure shimmered beside her.
“Dammit!” She stumbled a step and groaned, a palm pressed to her chest. “You’ll give me a heart attack, I swear!”
Race flipped back the hood of a dark cloak he now wore, a gray tunic under it, and dumped a bundle of clothes into her arms. “Put these on.”
“Did you murder anyone for them?”
“No. Borrowed them.”
“Borrowed?” She lifted a pair of dark leggings with overlapping reinforced seams. “Without asking? That’s called stealing where I’m from.”
“Where would you prefer I shop? The local dragon store?” He gestured to the rolling hills and forest around them.
She scrunched her face. “Well, when you put it that way…”
“I left gold.”
“Ah, a considerate thief. How very Robin Hood of you…” Awareness of him pressed against her skin, so damn tangible that she looked up and stilled under the weight of his stare. Her breath caught. Those claret eyes burned into hers, molten with heat.
For a heartbeat, the world narrowed to the space between them—just him and her. The urge to move closer tugged at her.
She forced herself to move, to breathe, shoving the moment aside. “You do know who Robin Hood is, right?”
“Men in tights,” he murmured. “Might as well be naked.”
Ash bit her lip, hiding her smile at his seriousness. She held the faded cotton tunic against her chest. “I’m sure this is not what female dragons actually wear.”
“No. They prefer scales. But those…” he nodded at her bundle, “are flame-resistant. These people are non-shifters, so they rely on their clothes for protection.”
“Oh, that’s good for me, then.” She examined the rest of the clothes. “The tank top’s practical enough. At least it’s not leather. Or I’d melt.”
“The fabric breathes.” He looked up at the sparse, leafy canopy above, letting in the morning light. “Change. We need to move. Wear the coat at all times. It’ll conceal your human essence.”
“I know you can conjure up trousers, why not the rest of your clothes?” she asked.
“It’s a limited ability. Unfortunately.”
Right. She ducked behind the trees, quickly stripping out of her grimy clothes and pulling on the leggings, tank top, and tunic overlay. The leggings were long. But then, these were dragon people.
Her boots on and laced up, she grabbed her dirty clothes and stepped out. Race turned, his gaze sweeping over her. “Good, they fit.”
“Did you happen to steal—pardon,permanentlyborrowany hair ties?” she asked, pulling on the long, forest green coat with one hand.
His mouth twitched. He took her dirty clothes, his brow furrowed. “Do you need these?”
“No—”
