Page 12 of Fallen for the Two-Headed Dragon

“Good morning.” She hesitated before reaching out to cup his cheek. The scales on his face were smoother than those on his arms and back. She stroked her thumb over them as he leaned more weight into her palm. “Sorry I woke you.”

“How are you feeling? You slept a long time. Do you feel rested?”

“A teensy bit sore, but much better than I should be feeling. Whatever’s in that mixture is definitely helping my ankle.” The gleam in his eye coupled with a slight smirk made her pause. “What? What’s in that cream?”

Rathym extracted himself from the bed and produced the healing lotion. He slathered a healthy amount on her ankle with more formality than the intimate encounter the night prior, but his skillful hands felt amazing all the same.

Content with his inspection, he began about his morning. The routine seemed lived-in and natural, and Dana found herself wondering what it would be like to share a normal, daily routine with him. The thought warmed her insides. She considered him further and realized he was still in his condensed form and had been sporting a long, front-and-back draped loincloth ever since he’d rescued her.

“The salve is a compound of magical elements, including medicinal herbs, scales, and seed.”

She startled at his voice, having long forgotten she’d asked about the healing salve as she’d become lost in her daydreams.

“Like, poppy seed?”

“No.” He peered at her darkly over his shoulder, a predatory grin tugging at one side of his crimson mouth. “My own.”

“Oh. Oh!”

The warmth in her cheeks spread until her ears were burning, and yet something tickled between her legs. It wasn’t exactly sexy, but thinking of it in that context very quickly led her to consider another context where she would be covered in his seed. She squeezed her thighs together, hoping his sensitive ears didn’t pick up on the flood of liquid.

Rathym’s nostrils flared and she knew it was no use. Even if he hadn’t heard the sudden trickle, he certainly smelled it. Why bother? She held her head a little higher. Let him know she wanted him. What did it matter? She couldn’t hide it anyway.

With a sigh, she hauled herself off the bedding, favoring her weak ankle heavily. Slowly but surely, she reached her bag and dug for her phone.

“Shit.”

No service. What did she expect? I guess that collections job wasn’t meant to be. Unsurprising and a bit of a relief, actually. Would the temp agency accept her back for another assignment if she no-showed the first job they gave her?

“What troubles you?” Rathym’s extremely deep voice reverberated against the stone walls. He must’ve changed into his full form.

She tucked the phone back in her bag and followed the sound of his voice to the dining room, their plates out of place on the obscenely long table. One of his tree-trunk-sized necks curved to look at her, the other still focused on the bloody task in front of him. The sight of so much blood made her queasy, so she focused solely his red-hued irises as they watched her behind filmy horizontal-sliding eyelids.

“I was supposed to start work this morning. They probably won’t want me now.”

“Why would you need to work?” His words slithered off his long, forked tongue. This version of him sounded significantly different, yet still entrancing.

“I need a job. How else would I make money?”

The bumped ridge of muscle over his eye drew down. “Whatever would you need money for?”

“You know. Stuff.” Dana rolled her eyes and gestured helplessly. “Everything costs money! Rent. Food. Wi-Fi.”

His other head glanced back at her, all four of his brows deeply furrowed. “But we have all we need.”

Her jaw dropped open to retort, but no sensible argument came out. Technically, he was right. He’d prepared tasty dishes using only herbs and animals from the forest for each meal. He’d adorned her in clothes too beautiful for her lower-middle-class status.

“Well, Wi-Fi then,” she ceded with a shrug, although even that wasn’t totally necessary. She’d rather enjoyed not being glued to her social media the past day and a half. “I do have to talk to my family somehow.”

This he seemed to understand. His head retreated and his body morphed into the smaller reptilian version, which she assumed was more practical for things like cooking and really anything that required opposable thumbs, but he managed to do a lot of things in both forms. He retrieved the blue-and-gold embroidered loincloth, which had obviously been made from the same fancy elven material as her dress and looked like it had belonged to a warrior. He turned away as he draped it over himself.

“Why don’t you stay in this form?”

“It isn’t sustainable to remain in downshift for long stretches. I spent the night with you like this. This morning it’s causing minor discomfort.” He breathed fire into the pit.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause you pain.”

“No. I wanted to. It was…it was nice.”

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