Page 32 of Dragon’s Rebel

Speak for yourself. You don’t seriously think we should give her that, do you?

His dragon drew his attention to a nearly-completed cuff bracelet on Thorne’s worktable. He sometimes made jewelry as a hobby, though not lately. This bracelet was one of a pair—a larger one and a smaller one. The design idea had come to him in a dream a few months ago, before Vyrkos’ tomb had gone critical.

He moved closer to the table, examining the smaller bracelet. It was about an inch and a half wide, intricately woven of gold wire in a lacy filigree pattern. He’d intended to set both bracelets with gemstones to fill in some of the gaps in the design, but nothing had looked right.

Then things got crazy with Vyrkos and the tomb, and he’d pretty much forgotten about it.

It’s not finished, he said dubiously. I don’t know what gems to put in it.

How are we going to do that? We can’t even hold the tools.

While Thorne watched, his dragon took control of their body. With one of his huge talons, he delicately removed some of the smallest scales from the inside of his upper left foreleg. It hurt a tiny bit—like plucking a hair in his human form—and left small gaps that his accelerated dragon healing would soon fill with new growth.

He laid the scales one by one on the worktable, where they shone like sapphires in the magical torchlight—dark midnight blue shading to ocean blue. He arranged them in a pattern, moving them with the tip of his claw, and then deftly hooked the bracelet and laid it gently on top of the scales.

He focused his mind on the gold, asking it to obey his dragon nature, and then breathed on it.

The heat of his breath softened the gold, and Thorne saw the scales moving on their own, wiggling like tiny fish, working their way into the gaps in the design.

I didn’t know you could do that, Thorne said, awed.

When the scales stopped moving, Thorne’s dragon hooked the bracelet with his claw once more and turned it so Thorne could see.

The surface of the bracelet looked almost solid now, the shimmering scales tightly interwoven among the gold wires, creating a picture. A leaping dolphin against a background of sea and sky, all in varying shades of blue.

It was stunning.

His dragon gave a murmuring purr.

If she didn’t, Thorne thought, he might as well give up. There was nothing in his hoard more beautiful.

You didn’t put any binding magic in it, did you? he asked suspiciously. You know how she feels about that. She’s afraid of being trapped against her will.

If she accepts it.

Great. Thanks a lot, asshole.

In the back of his mind, he heard his dragon laughing.