Page 7 of Red Dragon’s Flame

Someone who was badass only in her head, like him.

No message yet. Too bad. He was looking forward to this op.

The irony of the fact that he’d just been talking about being part of an actual Ops team was not lost on him. He could be out in the real world, helping people. Instead of wasting his time with sheep.

Shit. Zak was right. Mikah had always felt like administering the affairs of the kingdom was important work. Good management meant peace and prosperity for every person in their Rhode-Island-sized territory. Good management made sure everyone had plenty of food, jobs, decent shelter, help and medical care if they needed it.

Someone had to do it.

But here in the silence of his room, he had to admit that he was tired of being the one doing it. Of only being brave and reckless and heroic on the screen, instead of in real life.

When had it all begun to seem so boring?

He watched the cursor blinking in his and Shadowfire’s chat thread, willing her to talk to him. It was crazy how much he missed her when they didn’t talk. It wasn’t like they really knew each other. But they talked about life, the universe, and everything—thoughts and philosophies and jokes. Just not many specifics about their lives.

Lately, it seemed like real life was pale and washed-out and virtual life—with her—was the only thing that felt real. Which truly was ironic, considering he embodied the fantasies of most people who played the game. He was a dragon who actually lived in a fairy-tale castle in a magical realm—and his life was as mundane and boring as any of the humans he played with.

He’d gotten so desperate for something new, he’d even toyed with the idea of tying to meet Shadowfire in the real world, though he knew that was a recipe for disaster.

How could reality ever live up to the fantasy?

Why should he expect it to?

And how could he expect her to reveal her real self to him, when he couldn’t reveal his real self to her?

Better if he settled for what he had. Something that wasn’t real couldn’t be messed up.

He got a beer from his mini-fridge, and then sat down to stare obsessively at the message thread. He lasted five minutes.

Hey, Shadow, he typed. You there?

Five more minutes ticked by before the reply came back. I’m here. Just barely.

He felt worry hit the pit of his stomach. She’d been fine earlier.

Starthrower: Did something happen?

Shadowfire: You could say that, yeah.

Even over the screen, she somehow seemed really down. Not at all like her usual self. He could feel it like a heaviness in his chest.

He hesitated, then typed: Want to talk about it?

She likely wouldn’t, though. This was the place they came to get away from their problems.

Long silence, with just the cursor blinking on a silent screen.

Shadowfire: I wish I could. But it’s not something I can share.

There was a pause, and then she added, Thanks, though.

Something private. Maybe husband or boyfriend problems? The thought gave him a little stabby feeling in his chest, which was stupid. It wasn’t like they had a relationship—not that kind, anyway—and realistically they never would.

his dragon reminded him.

Mikah shoved that thought away. That was different.

To Shadow he typed, I get it. If there ever *is* anything I can do, though…