Page 29 of Bred By the Dragon

Damn. That’s a long way off, and I can’t think of an excuse to see her before then, so instead I say, “Shall we meet then?”

“Yes, of course! Where is it? Should I drive?”

I snort into the phone, which causes the screen to fog up from the steam. “No, no. I’ll carry you there. No car can reach my mountain.”

She giggles. “Sounds cool. Okay. Then I’ll see you in three weeks.”

I nod vigorously. “See you in three weeks.”

eleven

ZAKARION

When I fly back to my mountain, I face a whirlwind of cleaning. It’s been more than a hundred years since I gave this place a decent once-over, and there are many tunnels, some clogged with truly embarrassing things—a few deer bones, shed scales, and dirt I’ve dragged in with me. I sweep every last crevice, even ones I doubt Sammy will see, and dust off everything in the Museum.

I’m definitely going to show her the Museum.

I want to impress Sammy with my mountain home, though I couldn’t say why. It’s not as if she would live here with me while she’s carrying my hatchling. That does sound lovely, and I think she would like how remote it is.

Though perhaps she wouldn’t like not having her car.

Still, none of these are things I can entertain. As much as I would love to hunt for her, to cook her fresh meat covered in herbs and roasted by my fire, that’s not what this is. It would be foolish of me to get attached to a human, only to watch her age and die.

Trying not to think of such sad things, I address my hoard. It’s also a mess, and I clean almost everything, sure to remove any bones and remnants of my laziness. I move my nicest jewels to the top of the hoard, and pat it when I’m done.

At last, it’s time to bring Sammy here.

I fly quickly back to the city, excited to see her again after so much time apart. But if this works, as she suspects it will, this may be the last time I see her for some time—and the last time I get to enjoy her wonderful body.

I hope she will be amenable to my suggestion that we continue to meet regularly so I can check on the hatchling’s growth and her well-being. I want to provide what I can for her, whether it’s simply emotional support. I owe her far, far more than that, but I don’t know what else I can offer her.

When I land on Sammy’s front lawn, the weather is chillier than the last time I was here. Fall is in full swing, and the trees are starting to change color. It’s beautiful at her home with the yellow autumn leaves all about, and I breathe in the smell before walking to her front door to knock.

Before I can tap it once with my knuckle, the door flies open, and Sammy is standing there with her plump cheeks and bright eyes.

Most unexpectedly, she throws her arms around me, hands winding up my neck. I catch her, and squeeze her back, pleased to have her body so close to mine again. This time I did not make the mistake of leaving my needs unattended. Every time I thought of her, my cocks extruded and I took care of business, and still generated plenty of seed. I should have no trouble planting a hatchling in her tonight if her guess about the location of my mountain is correct.

“Sorry,” Sammy says, extricating herself from me. She quickly backs away, putting space between us. “I’m just happy to see you.”

I offer her a big smile. “No need to apologize. I’m pleased to see you again, as well.”

Rather than smiling in return, she frowns, and I wonder if I’ve said something wrong.

“Shall we?” she asks in a more neutral tone. Right. Emotional distance. She wants to be wary of crossing lines, and we likely already crossed one just now.

I nod. “Can I carry you? On my back? That will be easiest, I think.”

This time she does grin widely. “I was so hoping you’d suggest that.”

I stoop down low so she can climb on, and I scoop her up by her behind so I can heft her onto my shoulders more comfortably. She clings onto my neck, and though I can’t see her face, I can imagine her surprise as my wings flap and I lift off into the air.

It’s much harder to fly with the extra weight, but I’m able to do it. She shrieks as we rise high above her house, and I worry she’s frightened of heights.

“Amazing!” she cries. “It’s beautiful up here!”

I’m elated that she likes it.

“Wait until you see my home,” I tell her, and I start off in the direction of my mountain.

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