Sugar & Dragon Act I: Temptation (Sugar & Dragon #1)

XVII Hera

“Galenos.”

A dry voice broke her reverie. She glanced at the man on the opposite side of the table, who was watching her with a mixture of amusement and irritation.

“I ask for the third time,” Dago said, pronouncing every word as if he wanted her to hear and understand it, “would you be so kind as to explain where you got this manuscript?”

Her gaze dropped to the scroll lying before him. She guessed from the thickness of the papyrus wrapping both rods that Dago had read more or less half…

And then she saw that .

Or rather nothing . Because she couldn’t call the thing between one rod and another anything else. Instead of papyrus covered with runes, there was one large, neatly cut NOTHING .

“What have you done?!”

“That’s what I should ask,” Midais said. “It was you who brought this scroll.”

“Are you suggesting that I could destroy a book ?”

“If not you, then who? And where did you get it?”

She paled hearing the last question. “At the Royal Library,” she said, speaking aloud the nightmarish truth that made her lips numb. “I was only allowed to take it out of the building because of my good reputation…”

They stared at the damaged scroll.

“Did you find any information that could be useful to us?” Hera asked eventually.

“I was just getting to the part where I expected to find it.”

Silence fell.

“Can you imagine Homer Sokratis destroying a book?” Dago asked eventually.

“No.”

The thought that Master could destroy a valuable scroll from a public library was absurd. He was always so kind… with one exception. When he saw someone not treating books with the respect they deserved—when they crumpled the pages or, dream forfend, drew something on the margin—he turned into a feelingless librarian who cut off access to his knowledge until the culprit copied the entire book and swore on everything sacred that he would never commit a similar crime again.

Even Ofelia Cerberus didn’t behave like him, and she was a real librarian.

“If this scroll has anything to do with your curse,” Dago said, “and the fact that it’s destroyed isn’t just a coincidence, then it means that it wasn’t Sokratis who cursed you.”

The conclusion was obvious, but Hera had no idea what to do with it.

“So what now?”

She didn’t want to ask this question, but the silence was getting longer, and something had to be said. After all, they were talking about her curse.

Dago looked up. “I don’t see the need to change our plan. Until we find a new lead, let’s stick to what we know. Every book claims that the basic ingredient of a transmutation spell must be ichor… and I agree with that. There won’t be a problem with that. We both have morpheus blood in us and if that’s not enough, we’ll negotiate a few drops from Dorian.”

His gaze roamed over his notes. “What worries me the most is the repeated mentions of asphodel and other dreamy plants. Obtaining them will require a journey to Elysium, which will not be as easy as a trip to the seaside…”

Elysium was the official name of the Dreamland. The thought of going there made Hera feel as if she had taken a sip of the Nostalgic Potion. She missed something a little and badly wanted to know what.

“…but until we are sure, there’s no point worrying about it.”

Dago gestured at the damaged scroll. “I recognize this title. I think I saw it on Eolia.” He looked her in the eye. “I think we should go there.”

Eolia. The island where his family estate was located.

Her doubts must have been smoking because the man asked, “Why do you hesitate? This is a good opportunity for you to get to know your future in-laws better.”

Hera almost dropped the reed quill she was holding. Throughout the day, Midais had acted as if he barely noticed her, and when he did speak to her, it was with businesslike politeness. He treated her as he had on the first day of her stay—as if nothing had happened between them.

As if yesterday was just a dream.

As if he’d never knelt between her legs…

Hera wanted to push the last thought away, but the harder she tried, the clearer the memory became.

Tension and then bliss.

Languor.

Strong hands lifting her hips gently to put on her panties.

“Have a rest, sundae.”

Words that she didn’t have time to answer because the man who said them jumped into the water fully clothed.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she said when he returned to the shore after cooling his desires. “I could’ve returned the favor.”

He froze, as if his legs had suddenly turned into stones and became a part of the island. “Am I correct in thinking that none of your lovers caressed you with their tongues, but you did that for them?”

Now she was the one taken aback. She didn’t think her past would matter to him.

She shrugged. “They didn’t offer, and I didn’t ask.”

His pupils slitted, but before she could wonder about it, he turned around and jumped into the sea again.

“Then you don’t want…?” she asked when he emerged five minutes later, when he announced he was going to get something to eat.

He gazed at her. His pupils were round again, but there was still something dragon-like at the bottom of his eyes.

“There’s no hurry, sweetpearl.”

Hera tried to reconcile the mischievous smile of yesterday’s Dago with the cold calculation with of his gaze now…

…and it dawned on her.

Cold, hot. One step forward and one backward. A carrot and a stick…

Dago raised his eyebrow. “Does your silence mean you want to back out, sweetpearl?”

And then Hera decided.

“I don’t want to back out,” she said, letting excitement at her audacity spread across her body. “I think your plan is good.”

She felt her face reddening, but she didn’t care. That was a part of her plan.

If he wanted teasing, he would get it.

You will choke on your own moans and wriggle in spasms , she thought, meeting Dago Midais’s diamond-steady gaze, until you collapse from exhaustion.

THE END OF ACT I