“The dragon realm. They used to be more spread out. Then?—”
“Let me guess, humans tried to hunt them all, and they retreated for their safety?”
He chuckles, and I swear he drops a kiss to the top of my head. When I glance up, though, he’s gazing out at the landscape.
“Actually, they’re in their nesting period. Lasts a couple hundred human years. They’ll go out more again once the hatchlings are born and able to fly.”
He drops his hold on me and grabs my hand. He tugs me toward a large obsidian wall, and I dig my heels in.
“Problem, spitfire? Thought you wanted to meet the dragons?”
“I said no such thing. In fact, this is kidnapping, sir.”
He grins back at me. “If you’d like me to fake kidnap you to get your feet moving, I can certainly do that.”
I narrow my gaze. “I’d like to see you try.”
In a blink, he tips me over his shoulder and takes off for the wall. I shriek and he shushes me. That more than anything pisses me off. I hate being shushed. I dig my knuckle into his back, then wince. I always thought love handles were supposed to be soft and squishy. Like a little gift to hang on to. His are pure muscle along with his back. I swear they’re all rippling in front of my face.
“Keep it up, spitfire. I like your sass. Gets me?—”
“Do not finish that sentence,” I growl, wiggling. The last thing I need is to be in a foreign land while horny.He chuckles softly, and I crane my neck to take in the area once more.
“Where are we going?” I whisper. I’d rather not attract the dragons’ attention. I wonder if they barbeque their meals before they eat them. Do they just go whole hog? One bite and they’re done?
“Into the horde. Careful or I might feed you to one of them.”
I huff, though I’m not entirely sure he’s joking. I prop my elbow onto his shoulder blade and rest my chin in my hand. It’s not the most comfortable, but at least the blood isn’t rushing to my head. My gut begins to hurt long before we’re close to the wall.
“Don’t freak out,” he mumbles.
I shriek again as wings sprout from his back and batter me in the face. They dissolve, then reappear, somehow accommodating my body over his shoulder. My arms end up around his waist, and I scream into his lower back as we lift into the air. Time warps and my mind shuts off, though my voice doesn’t. I kick my legs and he grunts, the noise disappearing into the wind.
His feet slam into the rocky terrain, sending shards scattering across the ground like ice skittering across a frozen pond. He flips me over his shoulder, making my stomach roll. I won’t feel even a little bit sorry if I puke on him now. He drops me to my feet, and my body sways. I swear I feel drunk. It reminds me of last night and the horrid hangover I had this morning.
“Well, at least you didn’t freak out,” he says with a grin.
“A little warning would have helped,” I rasp, planting my hands on my knees. I concentrate on breathing deeply. In through the nose, out through the mouth. I can’t remember what it’s supposed to help with, but I do it anyway.
He rubs my back, still chuckling lightly. “Look at all these firsts for you.”
“If you say ‘I’m proud of you’ or ‘good job’ or any other platitude, I’ll aim toward you when I throw up.”
His fingers slide against my cheeks, forcing me to meet his gaze. He’s warm. Warmer than he should be after flying through the cold bite of wind. I wonder if that’s the electricity in him.Or the heat radiating from the wall. Down here, I can’t tell if it’s too hot or too cold. It’s like the perfect day. All I’d need is a light jacket to keep me comfortable. Up there, though, is another story.
Yet I’m not really thinking about flying. Or the weather. Or anything other than his skin against mine and the way he’s looking at me. Like I’m something special. Something to be cherished. I wrap the feeling around my heart, letting it heat me from the inside out. For just a moment, I allow myself to imagine what it’d be like to be loved by someone. Loved by him.
It’s glorious. Oh, it’s glorious. To be seen as my true self? To be seen completely? It’s a gift few in the world experience. And here he is, handing me this present as if it’s nothing. As if he doesn’t even realize how monumental it is.
“You look deliciously ruffled,” he says with a smile.
“I look like I’m about to puke.” Because of course I say the most unhinged thing to push him away.
“You’ll do better next time. Ready?” He strides off toward the wall.
It takes a moment for his words to filter through my muddled brain. “Next time? Dimitri!”
I scramble after him, my toe catching on a particularly large black rock. I’m able to right myself before I faceplant, then freeze, staring at my feet.
