Arthur cleared his throat.
“I’ll get firewood,” he said. “Hopefully I can have the fire built up before you’re done, so it won’t be cold when you come out.”
“That would be… great,” I said, aiming for normal and landing somewhere near stiff. “I won’t take long. Probably. Unless I accidentally dissociate under hot water. Which happens.”
He nodded like that was perfectly reasonable, then turned and headed back out into the rain, already focused on the task, already protecting me from discomfort I had not yet experienced.
I closed the door and leaned against it for one solid second.
I was living a fairy tale.
I didn’t want it to end.
I stripped out of my damp clothes, hung them carefully, then stepped into the shower.
Warm water hit my shoulders, and I groaned in sheer relief. Tension I had not realized I was carrying drained away piece by piece.
I still couldn’t quite believe all this was real, but it was. I was in Iceland. The man outside getting firewood could turn into a dragon at will. I hadflownon said dragon’s back.
A strong, ancient, terrifying creature… splitting logs so I wouldn’t be cold.
I braced my palms against the tile and let the water run down my back. My brain betrayed me, flipping through memories the same way I scanned a glossary. The way he had caught me when I slipped on the ice. The way his voice dropped when he said my name. The way he had stepped between me and danger without hesitation.
The way he hadsavedme.
I hated how that word bloomed in my chest. Like I was a fucking helpless princess.
I didn’t want to be the kind of woman who needed saving. I didn’t want to be soft and small and grateful for protection.
But when he had shifted?—
God.
The memory slammed through me.
The sheer size of him. Power coiled under scaled muscle. Wings carving through the sky like they owned it. The sound of wind rushing past as he carried me above mountainsand ice and sea.
The heat of him beneath my palms.
The way the world had looked smaller from his back.
The way I had felt safe.
My breath quickened.
The water was hot now, sliding down my spine in slow, deliberate paths. My body reacted before my pride could shut it down. Heat pooled low in my stomach, sharp and electric. My thighs pressed together instinctively.
Oh no.
No.
This was not happening.
I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to focus on logistics. Research. Dragons. Bloodlines. Survival.
Instead, I saw Arthur turning his head mid-flight, golden eyes catching the light, making sure I was okay.
Instead, I remembered the vibration between my thighs during the flight, and how good it had felt.
