Page 76 of Devoted to the Dragon

Her mouth drops in surprise. “That’s a big question.”

“I’m sorry. That’s personal. You don’t have to answer.” I sit up, but my posture is sloppy, so my head just falls into the crook of my arm.

She gives me a look. “Jeez, boss. Give me a minute to think.”

“By all means.” I giggle.

Her hand snatches the bottle of gin off the bar. “That’s enough for you.”

A steamy cup of coffee is in front of me before she answers. She leans on the bar, worrying a towel. “You know, I never went camping in my lifebefore. My confidence wasn’t good then. And I worried about…” She wipes down the already clean bar. “Well, anyway… I woke up one morning, and I just had this desire to go to the woods. I spent the last of my savings and got basic equipment. At first, it was small camping trips with groups of people. I liked it. How it felt out there. I got stronger and felt this pull to go deeper into the woods and hike farther. And then I came here.” She shrugs, giving me a blinding smile so bright it makes my chest ache. “You know the rest.” She stops her anxious wiping, her face falling. “I didn’t answer your question, did I?”

“You did,” I reassure her. “It was a good story.”

Her laugh is disbelieving but happy. “I ramble. The simple answer? It felt like missing something, but you don’t know what.Like that feeling you get when you think you left the coffee pot on, only instinctively you know it's a person or a place… maybe a feeling.”

Writing the spell with Vandera felt like sending a sage leaf into the wind. It was a wish.

“I’m glad you found your way here,” I tell her.

“That’s the beauty of this place. It calls you home.” She gathers supplies for inventory, then stops right in front of me. “Hang in there, boss.” Her soft hand squeezes mine before she flits off to begin her morning.

I think about what she said, about what Knox said too, while she counts. The longer I sit, the more the world sharpens. Delia doesn’t pay me attention as she works and hums to a playlist on her phone.

The paper around the stone is twisted, and I turn it between my fingers, trying to psych myself up. It takes a few more rotations before I gather the courage to unwrap and pick up the stone, the now-familiar smoke clouding my vision.

It’s a memory from last night. Our bodies are locked together in a way I remember, but I feel Knox's version this time. It’s the moment when my scent mellows, the sharp slap of mint cooling with the addition of the sweet fruit. It feels like an accomplishment but tastes like regret. I feel how much Knox craves me, how much he’s trying to give me what I need, and how scared he is that he’ll fuck it all up.

The smoke fades, and I blink at the river rock sitting atop a ripped piece of paper. Beneath the stone is a poem.

I searched

and came up empty.

Nothing was your oranges and mint,

sipped,

floating on a cool mountain lake.

Those words and the fact that he wrote them for me flay me wide open. Consider my buzz officially gone.

I want to find a way forward, but I feel stuck. Those memories of Knox’s in the forest, of him always searching? I feel that so hard, down to the fiber of my being.

And I want him. His bond in my chest aches with the need to return to him. The way he held me last night, took care of me even at my worst—that was everything.

But how do I blindly trust that he’s for real? I don’t know how to reconcile last night with years of mistrust… or with the man who was working for the king.

I let my forehead fall to the counter.How did facing Knox make it worse?Ugh. I’m annoyed with myself right now. My chest smarts, and my stomach cramps just add to the party.

“Baby girl, time’s up,” Fennik’s deep, stern voice sounds from behind me.

Shit.

But also, finally. I’m pretty sure I need some serious cuddles.

“How long have you been there?” I ask, twirling the stool around to face him.

“If you think we didn’t tail your ass all night, you don’t know your mates very well,” he grumbles.

---