Page 13 of The Longing

I put my hands on my hips. She must be admiring my pizzle, given she doesn’t have one.

“I believe if I wish to gain your trust as you must gain mine, we should remain in the same state,” I say, to gauge her reaction.

“You really,reallydon’t need to do that,” Alice says urgently. “Please, put something on.”

Maybe she is trusting me because she is with young? From the few books I have read which touch on mating, once a mated pair have shared a bed, the young is forthcoming soon after.

I probably don’t want to stress her further if she is in this delicate state of being with young (as my books have told me). As she has also said she will not run, perhaps I should allow herto wear clothing too. My weapons are safely locked away in the armoury, and she has no magic to disable the locks.

I have much to think about.

“As you wish, my lady.” I give her a stiff bow, like the ones in the illustrations.

Alice drops her hand and stares at me in alarm before she clamps it back. I retrieve my trousers, heave them on, and open the wardrobe.

It flings something at me with an annoyance I don’t believe I deserve. The garment is vast, consisting of multiple layers and folds. It will cover her completely, which somehow irritates me. The only thing which pleases me is the colour, one which matches my scales.

It seems the wardrobe has made a decision for me. I growl at it, but I already know it has no fear of me, given I have no fire.

I carry it over to Alice, holding it in one hand before dropping it at her feet. “Wear this.”

She uncovers one eye by opening her fingers slightly. It is a brilliant blue I hadn’t spotted yesterday. Her gaze ranges over me carefully, and she removes her hand from her face before she spots the dress.

“You don’t want me naked?”

“I believe what you came for has been done and”—I lean closer—“I’ve checked for weapons. There are none you can use,” I growl. “So, you can cover yourself, unless I say otherwise.”

ALICE

Waking up with Fenrother wrapped around me in his dragon form, but alsobeing wrapped around him in turn, was unnerving, and I’m still processing the whole thing.

Fenrother took up the whole bed, and seeing his massive, dinosaur-like head up close and personal was not a fun way to wake.

I risked extracting myself from his coils, although he showed no sign of consciousness, and sat in the window instead, watching as light filtered into the courtyard. Again, I thought I saw movement in the shadows, but given this place is magic, given the whole of the Yeavering is magic, I guess I should expect it.

The Fenrother who woke up was, initially, the Wyrm I was expecting, but then he goes and gives me this dress. It’s like something out of a costume drama, and it’s not like he’s providing any underwear or replacement for my bra, but it’s better than the alternative he was offering last night…nothing.

As for his cryptic announcement that he believedwhat I came for has been done, I’m not going to even attempt to unpackit. If he’s giving me any grudging level of trust, while I’m not going to do the same, I’m not going to question it.

Not until I work out how the hell I can manage this situation which ranges from bad to worse to bad again like a dose of whiplash.

Fenrother gazes at me, and I know he’s not intending moving an inch until I put the dress on, so I stand, and having made my way through a number of fluffy sewn in petticoats, I shove my head through into the bodice and writhe my way into the garment.

It’s tight on my upper half, shoving my boobs front and centre. It feels as if it’s bespoke, and I shove away the question which fills my mind of why this Wyrm would have clothing made for me in his wardrobe. A wardrobe, I recall, I found locked when I checked.

I will not look a gift…Wyrm in the mouth. I’m dressed, albeit ridiculously, and that is a win.

I turn to face Fenrother, who has been watching my struggle with the dress with an extreme interest. He spots my elevated bosoms, and his eyes spin with their holographic inners, glittering in the morning light.

He reaches out a hand to touch my chest. In a flash, I slap it away, and he grunts in surprise.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s rude to touch without asking?”

Fenrother growls, looking at his hand where I touched him. “Like who?”

“Anyone! Your mother for instance?” It appears that clothed Alice is bold Alice.

Fenrother lifts his head. “Did you see anyone else in this castle?” he snarls.

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