Page 13 of Fallen for the Two-Headed Dragon

Dana’s cheeks warmed. A shy smile caused her to dip her chin, but she made herself meet his gaze. “It was. Nice, I mean.”

“What would you do, if you did not think you needed coin?”

The answer came to her immediately. “Write. I write fantasy romance books. I mean, I used to. My readers have probably all forgotten about me.”

He hummed contemplatively and then held up a claw-tipped finger. He disappeared into some hidden nook of the seemingly endless cave. When he returned, he placed a typewriter in front of her, along with some frayed parchment, a quill, and a small container of black ink.

“The ink is enchanted to never spill nor go dry, and the contraption is charmed with an endless scroll of parchment.” He grinned smugly, his broad shoulders high, his arms crossed over his chest. “There. Now you want for nothing.”

A swell of gratitude threatened to burst from Dana’s chest. She’d never received such a thoughtful gift, and this man—dragon—had only known her for days, and yet here he was, lavishing her with gifts and calling her his treasure. She felt seen. Like for once, she didn’t have to prove herself worthy of someone’s attention.

“What is it now?” he asked, his caring expression souring. “You still wish to leave?”

“No!” she responded too quickly. Belatedly, she realized what she’d said. In the millisecond after, she also realized how true it was. Where would she go, anyway? Back to shrinking herself for the benefit of others? “No. I don’t want to leave. This is perfect. I’ve never—I don’t know what to say, Rathym.”

She kneeled on the chair and leaned over the table to place a hand on his arm. “Thank you.”

His smug grin returned. A forked tongue slipped from his mouth. “Anything for you, my treasure.”

The pet name sent a hot thrill through her core. She watched his eyes trail down to her lips. They continued down her body until the slightest flare of his nostrils gave away that he was searching for the scent of her desire. She suppressed a sly smile and leaned back in her chair. The people-pleaser inside her cowered, knowing that what she was about to say would ruin the moment.

“I’ll still need to contact my family at some point, though,” she reminded him gently.

The bubble popped instantly. He gave a stiff nod and returned to the food, leaving Dana to mourn the loss of his sweet side. She drank in the sight of his broad back, which was covered in an array of red-hued scales from dusty pink to bright crimson. She wondered about the loincloth. He’d specifically stated that he wouldn’t play by the rules of human decency. What made him change his mind? Was it due to her reaction to him, or some unexpected desire to be modest? She highly doubted it was the latter and couldn’t help feeling guilty for causing him to think he had to cover himself in his own home. Plus, she rather missed seeing all of him at once. At least the slip of fabric did keep her thoughts tame.

She turned her focus to the enchanted writing supplies and wondered what to write about. The idea came rather quickly. She jotted down a few sentences of a summary—the most outlining anyone would ever catch her doing—and set off.

Time passed by unnaturally in the cave. It was surreal, bizarre, like the fog that grows inside the mind while on an extended vacation, and didn’t she deserve a break?

With the strange passing of time, she could have spent days or hours at the typewriter, her writing slump shattered. Between the sharp pain of her leg and the dreamlike haze, she rarely rose from the chair unless she had to use the primitive toilet. Dana typed ceaselessly while Rathym cooked, brooded, and watched her.

The only telltale signs that days were passing were the five-star meals. In the mornings, he served her breakfast, then retreated to the bed and shed his reptilian form. An hour or so later, he would return, just to sit in comfortable silence save for the sound of the keys.

After lunch, like clockwork, the cave was filled with the loud snores of two enormous dragon heads. At times, it was frustrating to write with so much noise, but she couldn’t help laughing to herself. Even as a huge, formidable dragon, her companion was strangely human. Not human-human, but more like, he was understandable. His presence was easy, warm, even when he was curt or quiet. She got the sense that he was hiding from something. Like there was a deeper reason he’d secluded himself in this cave.

When he woke from his nap, he went hunting. He always returned with meat to cook into dishes like stew, roast, steak. All of his recipes made her taste buds dance. Whatever spice blends he used, they were nothing she’d seen in the grocery store before. They ate dinner together every night. Dana would swoon over the tasty food, and Rathym would grin smugly, pride and arrogance swimming in his double irises.

Every night, they snuggled in the blankets. By morning, she always awoke under his full-sized claw.

It was like she was living a daydream, her real life far away, the good girl she'd always been long forgotten.

On this day, her fingers click-clacked on the long-unused keys. It was a satisfying sound that brought forth childhood memories. When her grandmother was alive, Dana and her mom would fly to Indonesia to visit. Dana would spend hours in the cozy study-slash-writing nook that smelled like old books, where her gran always had fresh paper waiting for her.

Dana loved those visits. Her eyes prickled at the memory. She gulped down a sudden lump in her throat and shook her head. She smiled at the thought of her gran seeing her now, shacked up with a dragon and an enchanted typewriter. She could almost hear her say the equivalent of, Good riddance to what anyone else thinks. You know what’s in your heart.

Sometime midday, her wrists began to cramp and her eyesight became unreliably foggy. Who knew typewriters were so far from ergonomic? She stood and pushed her fists into her lower back, then stretched her arms high. Rathym walked in with a bundle of clothing and some towels.

“You really have a bath?” She sniffed her armpit and crinkled her nose. “You should’ve said something sooner!”

“I’m not a monster. I bathe. Come.”

With a giddy grin, she followed him a little too quickly, sending a sharp pain through her mostly healed ankle. She winced and walked more carefully. The healing salve was doing wonders that defied modern medicine. Her scraped leg was basically healed and her twisted ankle only hurt when she walked too hastily. She grew confused when he directed her to the uphill tunnel that led outside. Before she could react, he swooped her into his arms and exited the cave.

They emerged from the hidden passageway and immediately took to the air. Rathym’s wings redirected the air with powerful gusts, shimmering in the high sun. When Dana was able to tear her attention from his beauty, she was rewarded with the awe-inspiring sight below. The vast, lush nature playground was way better from this angle than any summit she’d ever accomplished. His scarlet chromatic wings beat around her like a second heart, their twinkling trails casting the air around him into a rosy hue.

Not long ago, she’d known for a fact that dragons didn’t exist. She’d thought her polite life with Jackson was as good as it would get. That she was lucky even, just for having someone willing to pay the bills while she followed her dream.

Now here she was, soaring above the trees in the arms of a centuries-old mythical beast, who she was finding herself more and more enamored with. Somewhere between that fateful fall to her death and this moment, Rathym had begun to carve out a dragon-sized space in her heart.

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