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“That’s a book about plants. It does not say that.”

“Do not approach after dark or he’ll lure you into his bed by removing his shirt—”

Rowan snatched the book from his hands and tried to covertly look inside to double-check that it couldn’t possibly say that, even though it was his book.

Milo snickered.

Rowan replaced the book on the shelf and pretended not to notice as he began his search.

Milo found himself fidgeting on the spot within seconds, glancing around for something to keep him occupied.

“Want me to move the plant circle?” Milo asked as Rowan continued to scan the spines. “I think they may have been talked to enough for one night.”

Rowan’s hand froze on a book, and he looked back over his shoulder like he’d suddenly remembered that his precious babies had witnessed all the filthy things they’d just done.

He hurried over, shoving the book at Milo before picking the plants up by the armful, muttering an “Oh my god” for every one as he replaced them in their spots.

“Hey, plants are resilient. I’m sure they’re not traumatized,” Milo said helpfully.

“Oh my god,” Rowan said with more feeling.

Milo had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing. The dragon was a stick-in-the-mud, but he was actually very amusing.

He let Rowan fuss as he cracked the book open, dropping onto the three-seater sofa facing the windows—the comfy-ass one he’d fallen asleep on.

A variety of jewel-colored dragons graced the cover and title page, but none looked like him.

He began flicking through the pages, reading about breed types and looking at the corresponding traits and coloring.

“Is this you?” he asked Rowan when he stumbled upon an image of a gargantuan dark red dragon in mid-flight. The ruby of his scales shone in the sunlight and the eyes looked like fire come to life.

“Yes,” Rowan said, and Milo returned to the book.

“The Ruby Spike-Ripper,” he read aloud, face contorting into a grimace.

CRINGE!!

“Did a fourteen-year-old gamer come up with the names?”

“Could be,” Rowan said. “Most breed names are along those lines.”

“Lovely.” Milo rolled his eyes. “My excitement is slowly dwindling. You look cool though.”

“Thanks.” A flush crept up Rowan’s neck. “Rubies are relatively rare these days.”

“How come?” Milo asked. He was trying to read the page about Rowan’s heritage, but there was a lot of VERY tiny text and not enough pictures for him to commit to it.

“We’re big,” he said with a shrug. “The population is growing. Evolution is probably realizing there isn’t enough space or resources for a lot of us. Most larger breeds are dwindling in numbers.”

Milo looked at his face, hearing the quiet sadness in his words. He didn’t know exactly what that was like. He’d never belonged to something bigger. Always alone, fractured, and looking for something he didn’t know if he’d ever find.

And even with his found family now, he was still somewhat on the outside. Ray had his own life and family outside of being Milo’s friend. His oldies were his to care for, but Milo had come to them when their lives had already been almost fully lived without him. And while they told him stories of their youth, he’d never know them the way he would have known a family member he’d grown up with. With Glenn, he wasn’t even sure if any of the stories were true, entertaining though they were.

So he thought he could understand Rowan feeling the loss of his breed. Feeling the group he belonged to dwindling slowly.

“I’m sorry,” he said truthfully.

Rowan shrugged. “It’s nature. It happens.”