Page 32 of Devoted to the Dragon

I rest on his chest again, tracing the shape of my dragon. “Did you know sage is used for calming and healing?”

Gunnar’s fingers comb through my hair. “I’ve seen people burn it to ward off evil.”

I hum. “That too. When I was a girl, I used to write wishes on sage leaves and sleep with them under my pillow before releasing them to the wind. Your scent reminds me of that time before the world was hard when wishes were possible.”

“What did you wish for? I try to picture you as a girl, but it breaks my brain.” He gives me a lopsided smile.

“I wished for lots of things. Handsome mates. A good scent. My dragon scales to be green.”

“You got the handsome mates part right,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows devilishly.

“True,” I laugh. I rub my thumb back and forth across my dragon’s tail and over his nipple. Even if I’m opening up, I’m still me, and I can’t help but rile him up a little. “The other wishes are still out on the wind.”

Gunnar makes a questioning sound.

“My true scent won’t come in until I awaken, and neither will my scale color. All dragons are neutral-scented and a pearly white until they awaken.”

Gunnar thinks that over, his hand tracing up and down my spine. “The first time I saw you, I thought you were surrounded by blue light. But that might have been the rut-hash.”

I swallow another smile, teasing the trail of golden hair below his belly button.

“You’re beautiful without the color, but now I can’t stop trying to guess,” he muses.

“And what do you think?” I ask.

“Naw. This requires serious thought. I can’t just throw it out there.”

I laugh at his explanation. He jostles us about, turning us so we’re snuggled with my back to his chest, his arms tight around me. We’re quiet for a moment. The shower water runs from the bathroom, and Gunnar’s breath is warm on my neck. I savor it, hoping it will last.

I take a deep breath and tell him another truth—the harder one that makes my throat tight. “My mother’s scales were the color of shallow water, green and sparkling. I wanted green scales and to be a great warrior like her. Looking back, I should have wished for peace, great wisdom, or anything else. To be a great warrior means there must be war.”

Gunnar’s hold on me tightens. “Then make a new wish.”

I mull that over and turn over my shoulder to look at him. “What did you wish for as a kid?”

“Same thing I wish for now.”

I lift my brow.

Gunnar takes a breath, and the calming sage of his eyes turns to mist. “I’m a wolf from the Outskirts. I wish for what all the lost wolves wish for.”

“And what is that?”

His jaw tics and he looks away. “A home.”

That hits close, resonating with an ache I feel down to my soul. I’ve been searching for a home to replace the one I lost for longer than most living things can fathom.

I turn back and wrap my arms around where he’s holding me. “Tell me?”

He takes his time before he begins. “My omega mother died giving birth to my sister, and my fathers died shortly after. One of the village elders took us in. When I was ten and my sister, Izzy, was only seven, the village we lived in was raided by a pack of feral wolves, and many turned.

“We fled to the forest as the village burned, but they found us. My sister didn’t make it through the night. They sent those of us who survived to the Outskirts after that. It’s been a different kind of war, but I get wanting to wish for peace.”

I snuggle back against him, running my fingers along his forearm as I try to find the words. The pain of Gunnar’s storyfeels familiar, though it happened a world apart from my own. I wish he didn’t share this kind of pain. I wish it on no one.

There are no words for this, but I give him some anyway. “I’m sorry for your loss, for your family and village.” I take a deep breath and force out the words. “The way I lost my family was similar. We were raided by crusaders aided by another shifter species. None of my people survived. Except me. It was long ago now, but that doesn’t seem to matter. The pain is still fresh.”

“It sucks big time.” He squeezes me tighter, his warm breath on my neck. “I’m sorry that happened to you. Losing my family was hard. I can’t imagine how difficult it is to lose all your kind like that. The world is a fucked place.” He chuckles against my neck, his beard tickling the soft skin. “You know what’s messed up?”

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