Page 13 of King of Fire and Scales

She took one last glance at her father, then opened the window wider, straddling the pane.

Drake crouched and shifted his body so it was easier for her to mount him. She was still wearing the tunic but had removed the tights and calf-hugging boots. When she straddled his neck and grabbed hold of his scales, her cool, bare skin was folded around him.

Hold on as tight as you can. You won’t hurt me.

The truth was that she could hurt him if she wanted to, especially if she dug her nails beneath the sheath of the scales, and tried to pluck at their armored surface. He’d fought an enemy once. She used a blade on him, and the pain was immeasurable, imprinted like a branding on in his memory.

But Thalia did nothing of the sort. She leaned forward on his head, flattening her stomach and breasts against him. The king felt a hot current flow through his dragon body and leaped into the night sky to escape it.

Her thighs tightened against his neck for a moment, but then soon enough, she began to ease. He soared over the darkened landscape smoothly, floating along the cool gusts of damp air. The moon shined down on them as did a scattering of winking stars, casting the houses below in a gleaming white silhouette.

They were not in the sky very long, but Drake felt a warmth spread through to his heart. She whispered into his ear that she wanted to get back to her father, the subdued beat of her heart a melody to the king.

He did as she asked, leaving her at the window where he’d found her. Once on solid ground, she turned and looked deep into his dragon’s eyes.

Carefully, she reached out and laid a hand on his long snout. She stroked it softly. Drake in his dragon form gently nuzzled into the touch. He closed his eyes slightly, reveling in the feeling of her palm against his scales.

It was the most intimate moment he’d ever shared with a woman.

“Thank you,” she said, biting her lip. “That was incredible.”

You are very welcome, Sorceress. Get some rest.

The gold in her eyes flashed like a shooting star. She closed the window and then snuffed out the lamplight, leaving the king gnawing for more.

SEVEN

THALIA

There was nothing else in the world Thalia wanted more than to possess the ability to heal her father. The potential had never been suggested nor considered, even during her sporadic moments of experimentation.

She had secretly helped her neighbors grow crops without their knowledge, rendering the soil rich and fertile. That was the extent of the healing her hands could conjure.

At least, that was what she believed. Until she met King Drake.

The carriage hopped along the rough terrain during the second day of travel. Thankfully, the misty rainfall had dissipated, but in place came a stifling, humid influx of temperature. She’d removed the cape of her tunic, as well as the cloak from her father, as another grueling twelve hours of movement came to a close.

Her father lulled against her shoulder as twilight spilled a coppery splash over their muddy boots.

“We are stopping at another inn,” the king reassured them, taking a longer look at her father’s drowsy state.

The blue in the king’s eyes was the color of a lagoon with various shades dependent upon the angle of light and mood. It was a fluidity she’d noticed the night before when he’d approached her window in his spectacular dragon shape.

For the majority of the journey, Drake had sat opposite them with his arms folded, dozing off, or at least pretending to. The conversations they’d had were light and brief. Thalia felt herself opening up to him, but only a little.

The village witch knew she had to remain cognizant of the king’s potentially hidden intentions. After all, he was still a stranger despite his title, and despite the riveting ride she’d taken on his back the night before.

She wanted to believe he hadn’t been lying about the opportunity to educate herself on the healing properties of witchcraft. She was desperate enough to push the thought of his manipulation aside. But not too far out of grasp.

They stopped earlier than they had the night before, with the sun resting like a sore, swollen eye on the bleeding horizon. As Thalia climbed out of the carriage, she realized the state of the town was far less rugged than the previous one.

Everything had a certain shine to it, a gleam of modern vivacity. They were getting closer to the kingdom.

Her stomach clenched, taking hold of her father to soothe the apprehension.

“Let’s go, Father. Another night of rest awaits.”

Drake then had his hand on her elbow. She craned her neck up to meet his stare, drinking in his neat and handsome features. He didn’t have his hood up as he had at the previous inn. He had an air of familiarity about him that gave him a curious softness.

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