Page 8 of Rescued By The Dragon

Chapter Four

Dorran

My fingertips tapped angrily against the arm of my chair, and my other fingers pressed against my temple. The agony of hearing this woman talk.

“I’m so disappointed in you,” my mother said, tipping another spoonful of sugar into her coffee. “The Dragon Prince prefers blondes. I knew I should have checked the invitations one final time before having them printed.”

The corner of my mouth tugged into a grin. “Well, sue me for knowing what I want, Mother.”

She put her teacup down dramatically. “Now how are the brunettes and redheads going to feel, Dorran? Hmm? You’re going to have half of the kingdom bleaching their hair blonde.”

Chuckling, I snagged a piece of bacon that Glendora put down for us. “Thanks, Dora,” I said.

“You know I was a blonde in my day,” she said, winking at me.

Glendora was our cook and had been since I was a small child. “I remember those days. Where do you think I gained my preference?”

“Knock it off,” Mother said. “Neither of you are taking this seriously.”

I sighed and hurried to eat my food so I could leave the table. I had plans to do some digging on my little blonde friend from the bridge.

“I already agreed to this stupid ball, you can’t expect me not to put my preferences out there for the kingdom to see. It’ll eliminate a lot of time with just the blondes—,”

Mother stood up, placed her teacup in the sink, and left the room. Thankfully.

Dora pinched my cheek. She was the only human allowed regularly in the castle. For most, it was for safety purposes, because being around a hot-tempered dragon could land you with no hair, or third-degree burns.

“I liked your little note, but I do think she’s right, there will be many girls with blonde hair showing up on Friday.”

I was only worried about one girl ...

Speaking of.

Finishing my plate, I walked toward the stairs and the bridge. I knew I could get to her house easier that way, and I could avoid the slew of dragons and women in the courtyard.

The guards stood to attention when I stepped out onto the bridge. “Don’t worry, my mother isn’t coming.”

A few of them snickered, and the newbies kept a straight face. “Listen,” I said, stopping to glance over my shoulder. “If my mother comes asking for me—like I’m a fifteen-year-old—just tell her I’m spreading my wings?”

“Yes, Sir.”

I followed the bridge down toward her house, leaping to her rooftop; I crouched down beside her window and glanced inside.

It was empty.

She probably had a life unlike A Dragon Prince, whose life consisted of waiting to marry and take over the kingdom. I could follow her scent, but going down into the courtyard would be risky.

It depended on the amount of females out for the day.

I could get stuck in the middle of a group of dragons, or groped by the confident ones. Not being in the mood for a possible sexual harassment charge, I bent down, with a little force, popped open her window, and stepped inside.

Her scent nearly knocked me down.

It was mild but called to my dragon.

He stirred within me, something he rarely did. He was more unimpressed than I was daily. Asshole came to mind when I thought of my dragon.

This scent called to him. A scent he wanted to remember. A scent of a mate.

---