Page 14 of Grumpy Dragon Christmas

“I don’t have friends. And the sooner you let me get off this nevving planetoid, the better. For you,” Drekkan says, menace dripping from his mouth filled with fangs.

A muscle ticks in his jaw, and his hands are balled into fists, blood dripping from one where his claws have cut into him.

“You should have a healer take a look at that,” the mayor says evenly. “In your current condition.”

Drekkan fires out a short burst of flame, which cuts off suddenly before he turns on his heel and stomps away.

“My apologies, my dear,” the mayor says to me in much more hushed tones. “I did not mean to disturb you.”

“You weren’t disturbing anything,” I reply, getting to my feet as well.

Only he sort of was disturbing us. Drekkan might be a complete and utter arsehole, but then he’s no different from any of the other arrogant Sarkarnii I’ve met, or even many of the other male species. Except the look in his eyes, both of anger and of sadness, makes me think there’s far more to Drekkan than meets the eye.

And given I need a distraction from my worries, I’m going to make it my mission to find out.

JADE

Qrow is nowhere to be seen, but I’ve always been quite good at getting my bearings. As it’s daylight and I paid some attention to my surroundings this time, I know where my egg apartment is. However, I take my time walking back through the market, looking at the myriad of species here on Kitchik, how they interact, the sort of items for sale.

Everywhere there is sparkling bunting and there’s a buzz about everything. It seems those aliens with obvious mouths are smiling, everyone is talking to each other, arms (sometimes more than one in the case of the aliens the same species as Qrow) are around shoulders.

This place ishappy. I guess I’ve been so wrapped up in my problems and with spending time on a prison planet, I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be somewhere where people want to be.

It reminds me a little of the village in the Dales where I grew up. All heavy limestone and pretty cottage gardens. And everyone knowing everyone else’s business. It was there I swore I’d never be a single mum, given the hard time my own mother got from certain quarters.

I place my hand over my stomach, still relatively hidden under the baggy clothes I wear, but my bump is most definitely obvious to touch. Looks like I don’t have a choice in the matter.

Yet again, I find myself choking back the tears. I can’t even begin to think how I got in this situation. If I do, I’ll surely go mad. I make my way out of the market and back onto the winding cobbled streets. It means I can breathe just a little easier.

Although, as everywhere is built on a hill, I am puffing as I go, eventually making it back to my egg apartment, I make my way up onto the roof where I fan myself and take in the views. It’s like something out of Tolkien. All jagged mountains, green valleys, and this settlement, not huge, not small, spread out like a medieval village. If it wasn’t for the bulbous spaceport and the occasional flying craft zipping across the sky, I’d have thought I’d walked through some sort of magic portal.

There is also a strong smell of woodsmoke woven through with nutmeg and cinnamon. It’s strangely comforting.

“Hello, little morsel,” a deep as sin voice, dripping with chocolate, murmurs in my ear.

I squeak in alarm, spinning to face the heavily muscled chest of Drekkan.

“What are you doing here?” I breathe.

He is very close. Far too close for a predator his size.

“I wanted to…” He closes his eyes and inhales deeply. I’m close enough to feel his hips twitch.

My treacherous core pulses.

“I wanted to continue what we were talking about when we were so rudely interrupted,” Drekkan rumbles.

“What, about how you hate celebrating so much?” I reply, fighting the desire to put my hand on his chest, to feel exactly what Sarkarnii scales are like, because I’ve never expected to be toe to toe with one.

“About why you want to celebrate with these…creatures…even though you’ve just met them.”

“Unlike you, I enjoy a party. I don’t just brood in the corner like a rubbish ghost.”

“A rubbish ghost?” Drekkan rasps. “You’re comparing me to a rubbish ghost?”

“Well, you think you’re scary, but you’re not,” I say, getting into my stride.

“Do you want to test out your theory?” Drekkan bends his neck so he’s staring straight in my eyes.

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