Page 9 of Beautiful Beast

Children were never something I felt strongly about, one way or another. But given the monster I was about to marry, I would not give this world a union of his blood and mine. I would not create a new generation of monsters to hunt creatures who merely wanted the freedom to exist.

“You can’t mean that.”

“I do. I will not bear him children. Being owned by him is enough. We do what we can, and I refuse to create a life he will poison and turn into an abomination.”

Slowly, Helena nodded. “Will they know?”

“Some women are barren. I’ve never been bedded. There is no reason for them to suspect anything other than a misfortune of my own body. They will never know.”

She hesitated and stopped. It was clear she wanted to speak, but was afraid. “Say what you want to say.”

Still, Helena hesitated a moment more. “Do you think your grandmother would approve?”

Sour grief filled my chest. The dragon peered over my shoulder, sniffing at the brew before making a sound of disgust and backing away, sitting with his tail curled around the coin he loved so much.

“I think my grandmother would have rather given my mother, and therefore me, to the stars at birth than ever give us life. It has nothing to do with love, and everything to do with knowing how this world works.”

We do what we can, Lena. What we can however we can. It is the only thing that makes a difference. You must not stop. You cannot let the truth die.

“Yes. I think she would approve.”

I left the potion to bubble and returned to her. There was no more to say.

Helena helped me undress down to my shift, and I sat, still as death, as she painted the traditional designs on my neck, shoulders, and arms. These weren’t blue, but gold. I might be wearing blue in honor of Craisos, but gold was the color of weddings in Gleira.

“You will look beautiful,” Helena said. “No matter what happens.”

“Thank you.”

On my workshop table, the dragon curled around his coin and watched us. Despite my knowledge of dragons, I’d never been this close to one. Only to the draygs, which I knew were not the same. Draygs had none of the intelligence of dragons, their breeding ensuring they were the malleable creatures people wanted them to be.

This creature wasn’t that.

“Do you have a name?” I asked.

Helena glanced up. “Can he speak?”

“I don’t think so, but he clearly understands us to some extent.”

The small dragon tilted his head and then looked around the room. As I watched, he shifted from the shining silver blue to a pleasant, soft green. Mossy and subtle. With the gold coin in his mouth he hopped off the table and trotted across the floor, stopped, and looked at me.

“I don’t understand.”

One tap of his claws on the floor. But there was nothing there. I shook my head again.

He huffed, a small puff of steam coming out of his nostrils. Helena and I shared a smile as he took off running, this time closer to me. Again on the floor, just behind where I sat. He tapped the ground.

Stepped one foot to the side, waited, then stepped back to that spot and tapped the ground. The only difference was… “Shadow?”

In the place where he’d paused, the light of the workshop fire lit him up. Where he sat now was hidden in my shadow. The place where he’d first gone was the shadow of a chair.

He tilted his head, like it was close, but not quite there.

“Varí,” Helena spoke softly.

The dragon’s eyes went wide, and he spun in a little circle before rushing over to brush himself against her leg through her dress.

“You speak the ancient language?”

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