Chapter 7 #3
Something like a growl emanated from his throat.
He swallowed it back. “Nice of him to portray us that way.” Moncrief not only hated Cyn, understandably, but he disdained Dragons in general.
Neither surprised Cyn, but the man should have kept his prejudices out of the stories. After all, Ruby was Dragon, too.
“Get this clear: We’re not lizards.” He gave a quick, disgusted flick of his head. “Or snakes with legs. Yes, we have scales, but we’re hot-blooded. Our eyes are more cat-like, and so are our bodies.”
“But that’s how Chinese Dragons are portrayed. Or is it Japanese?”
“That’s just a reflection of a particular culture. Every ancient culture seems to have seen an actual Dragon. Pictures, carvings, and descriptions go back millennia. I’m guessing that the Dragon gods showed themselves to early peoples in different ways.”
Ruby raked her long hair back, holding it away from her face. Her thick bangs swept across her forehead, shielding the burn. “I’m not a Dragon. I’d know a thing like that. I mean, that’s not something you just find out, like that according to your DNA, your great grandfather was Italian.”
“You do know, Ruby. You’ve felt the power, the violence. You just didn’t know why.”
She shivered, her eyes wide as she stared at nothing in particular. “Those times I wanted to tear someone’s head off…”
He felt an odd urge to pull her into his arms and smooth her hair back, imagining the strands sliding against his skin, remembering the heat of her body against his. Bad idea to let those kinds of thoughts curl through him like a stream of smoke.
He gentled his voice instead of giving into his urge, much safer. “Ruby, you change into a Dragon. A powerful, gorgeous—”
“Stop.” She slapped her hand on his chest. “Stop telling me that, and stop saying my name like…”
“Like what?”
“It sounds so… intimate.”
Her hand felt warm on his chest, even through his shirt.
“I don’t mean to say it like that.” Relief crossed her face but disappeared at his next words. “But we are going to be intimate in the next couple of days.” He clarified. “I have to give you a crash course on being Dragon.”
He saw the toll this was taking on her, the twine of grief, fear, and confusion in her eyes.
For a moment, he got caught up in all the different hues of greens and browns in them.
Her eyelashes were long, and because she wore no makeup, he doubted she used one of those torturous-looking devices to curl them.
She appeared surprised at the sight of her hand on his chest, as though just realizing it was there. He pressed his hand over hers before she could pull it back. “I’m sorry about Moncrief, sorry that you’re being thrown into all this.” And most of all, sorry that he’d taken so much from her.
No apologies, remember?
He’d never thought about the families of those he’d been ordered to take out. His superiors at the Guard only had bad or dangerous people killed. Or so he’d thought until he’d seen that girl in the dinghy.
This girl.
Her chin trembled as she stared at his hand over hers. “Don’t say that,” she whispered.
“Don’t say ‘I’m sorry’?”
Her body leaned toward him, and he had the urge to pull her the rest of the way. She needed comfort, probably needed to feel safe, even for a moment. He wasn’t good at comforting, but he could improvise just this once. She leaned closer yet, as though he were a magnet pulling her toward him.
He brushed a stray hair from her cheek. “It’s okay to break down, scream, cry, whatever. You’ve been through a lot.” He couldn’t imagine having to assimilate this all at once completely out of the blue. Most Crescents were raised in the culture and rules. “You’re an innocent.”
The protective side of his Dragon pushed against his hard exterior again.
She was innocent, but she wasn’t a child.
That interesting mouth of hers, the swell of her breasts, reminded him of that.
Much better to think of her as the untrained Dragon that she was.
His responsibility, nothing more. He took a step back.
So did she. “That demon in the library, was it there to kill me?”
“Yes. Deuces can summon them to do their bidding.”
“Could Brom summon one? Just before Mon died, he told me it was dangerous to see him.”
“Brom is a powerful Deuce, and yes, he probably could, but he wouldn’t harm you. Moncrief’s warning means Brom is somehow involved in this.”
Her eyes widened. “He killed Mon.”
“I don’t think so. They’re best friends, have been for centuries. I’ll find him.”
“But Mon said—”
“I can deal with dangerous. What we don’t know is whether you’re a target because you were a witness to Moncrief’s death or if there’s another reason.
” He saw the fear on her face. Good. She needed to be afraid.
But she also needed to be strong and ready to fight.
He changed tack. “I can stash you away in a safe house and find out who’s behind this. ”
He saw his words prickle at her. The little girl vanished, and the woman who’d held the gun to his chest stepped into her place. Perfect.
“I’m not hiding. I want to find out who killed my uncle.” She curled her hand into a fist. “I want them to die.”
He tried to stifle his smile and the pride it would reveal. “Then you’ll need to be Awakened.”
“Into a Dragon.” Her bravado wilted. “I’ll become what you did at the library?”
“Yes. The next time you face a demon, you’ll be prepared. You’ll at least know what you’re dealing with.”
“And see it. The only thing scarier than seeing you as a Dragon was not seeing that thing as it attacked me.”
She was getting it. “But know that Awakening will be intense and painful. Training will be the hardest thing you’ve ever done.” Before he thought better of it, he reached out and brushed his finger against her cheek. “I’ll be with you every step of the way.”
She stiffened at his touch. “Why does that not comfort me?”
He pulled back, irritated that he’d let himself go soft. “Then here’s something else for you to focus on: when we Catalyze to Dragon… we do it naked.”
The Book of the Hidden
Garnet faced the Dragon Prince on the immense lawn behind the castle, the sun glistening on the dewy grass. Her gaze darted all around, looking for a way to escape despite the guards positioned all around them.
“Don’t be afraid,” he said.
He drew his hands up, and in unison with his movements, the force of the beast rose within her.
“No!”
The rush of wind in her ears drowned out the word.
No, not wind, but a change in her body, her very essence.
She fought, her soul scratching and clawing against it.
But when the mist cleared and the deafening sound quieted, she stood on four legs, not two.
She took herself in, seeing the long snout growing out from her face, the talons on her hands, the red scales shimmering in the sun just as the dew had.
No, no, no! Her soul cried out at the ugly armor, and she closed her eyes and looked upward, pleading for the gods to kill her.
Something cool rubbed against her neck, startling her. A Dragon with scales black and blue like the heart of midnight, eyes holding the flicker of a flame within. The Dragon Prince.
He rubbed his head against her cheek. “You will get used to it.”
“And what of the smell?”
He shrugged, or she thought he did. “You’ll get used to that, too. And the drooling. Yes, we are ugly, horrid beasts, but we are the strongest of all.” He nipped her, though she barely felt it through the scales. “Show me that spirit, love. Fight me with all you have so I know where to start.”
He dared called her ‘love’! She spun around and knocked him to the ground with her tail.