Page 83 of Kenna's Dragon

“I trusted you when you said you wouldn’t hurt me, Ewan. Don’t make me regret that.”

Kenna lays her hand on my dragon’s snout, and although she’s still shaking slightly, she doesn’t move away. Her fingers brush gently over his scales, followed by her palm flattening against him. All her breath leaves her in a long, trembling exhale as she closes her eyes and steadies herself.

When she opens them again, there’s no fear, no hesitation. There’s just a soft understanding, a knowing, and when she speaks, there’s nothing but kindness in her voice.

“Ewan,” she murmurs. “I need you to shift for me. I need to talk to you.”

Doesn’t she understand? I can’t shift. Not now. Not when she might still be in danger. A brief pulse of frustration moves through the dragon. I do my damnedest to put myself back in control, but he’s still got the reins right now.

“Ewan.” Kenna’s voice is stronger now. Unflinching. And when the dragon flicks his golden gaze back up to meet hers, the commanding glint in her eyes makes a rush of instinct rip through him—from the knife-sharp tips of his claws to the spiked end of his tail.

Listen. Yield. Obey.

33

Kenna

What the fuck am I doing?

I don’t know where Ewan is right now. I don’t know how much of his reaction this last hour has been him, and how much has been the dragon. I don’t know if my impossible, infuriating, wonderful lover is anywhere in there, or if I’m making the biggest mistake of my goddamn life.

Still, as I lay my hand against the dragon’s nose, I’m also more than a little bit in awe.

His scales are smooth and warm, shifting against my fingers as he breathes in and out. Those golden eyes are fixed solely on me, and the power radiating off of him feels magnetic and threatening all at once.

I don’t believe he’ll hurt me. Well. Mostly. And I’ve got to do something to try to help pull him back from wherever his mind’s gone.

“Ewan.” His name comes out clear and steady, and the dragon’s eyes flicker in a way I almost recognize as being the man I know.

But just a couple seconds later, he gets agitated again. He tosses his big golden head and takes a few steps away from me, huffing fast, frustrated breaths through his nostrils. When I see a bit of smoke come out on one of his exhales, I glance nervously at some of the dry brush at the edge of the forest.

The Pacific Northwest does not need another damn forest fire.

“Ewan. Can you shift for me? I’d like to talk to you.”

The dragon doesn’t respond. He just gives his head another shake and turns away.

“Hey.” I step closer, keeping my voice low. “Look at me.”

Before I can take another breath, I’m face to face with Ewan’s dragon again. He’s turned to face me fully, golden scales catching the late afternoon sun. This close to him, I’m struck once again by just how big he is.

And how beautiful.

His breathing has calmed, and he’s standing still now, watching with fire-bright eyes as I take another step.

He didn’t seem to mind the last time I touched him, so I extend my hand again. This time, he leans into my touch. As soon as my fingertips brush against his scales, a deep rumble breaks from the back of his throat, and I snap my hand away.

Shit. Did he just growl at me?

Those golden eyes look almost confused as he nudges my hand. I don’t pull away and when the rumble sounds again, I listen a little closer.

Not a growl. It’s more like a purr. Not exactly similar to the one you’d hear from a cat, but still a noise of unmistakable pleasure.

I don’t know how long we stand like that, but as his rumble continues, I get a little bolder. I stroke along his snout, between his eyes, up over the crown of his head. He tilts down a little so I can run my hands over a couple of his curved horns, and the rumble grows even louder.

It’s … kind of cute. Not exactly a word I ever thought I’d use to describe this giant, fearsome, scaled creature in front of me. I’m still way too hopped up on adrenaline to fully process what’s happening, but as the minutes pass and the pleased rumbling continues, I feel my heartbeat slow down to match it.

When I’m pretty sure he’s about ten seconds away from rolling over and showing me his scaled belly, I try coaxing him out of his shift one more time.

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