Page 14 of Hot for the Dragon

The gathered dragons looked between Carmen and Daphne, their massive forms betraying their uncertainty through subtle shifts and twitches.

But Archer knew it wouldn't matter. Not while Carmen stood there, her power radiating off her in waves that made the air thick with tension. These dragons might doubt, might even agree with Daphne, but they wouldn't dare show it.

Carmen's laughter suddenly echoed across the clearing, sharp and mocking. "A witch lecturing dragons about morality? That's rich." She stalked toward Daphne, teeth bared in a predatory smile. "Tell me, little flower girl, how many wings have you conquered? How many battles have you won?"

Something hot and dangerous coiled in Archer's chest as Carmen circled Daphne like a shark scenting blood.

"Your pretty words mean nothing," Carmen sneered. "These dragons follow strength, not speeches. And you? You're nothing but a weak-"

"Back off." Archer's voice cut through the air. He stepped between them, his shoulders tight with barely contained rage. The urge to shift, to tear into Carmen with fang and claw, burned through his veins. "You want to talk about strength? I seem to remember kicking your ass in three different wing competitions."

Carmen's eyes narrowed to slits. "Ancient history. Care to test that theory now?"

"Name the time and place." His lips pulled back in a feral grin. "I'll be happy to remind you why they used to call me the Crimson Terror."

"Right here. Right now." Carmen's fingers flexed, scales rippling beneath her skin. "Unless you're too rusty to back up that mouth of yours?"

Archer tensed, ready to accept the challenge, when a small hand touched his arm. He glanced down to find Daphne's green eyes pleading with him. The contact sent an unexpected jolt through his system, clearing some of the battle-rage from his mind.

Damn it. She was right. He was out of practice, and Carmen had been fighting constantly. If he lost, there'd be no one left to protect Saltwater Grove.

"Another time," he growled, backing away while keeping himself between Carmen and Daphne.

He shifted forms, lowering his head for Daphne to climb on. As they took to the sky, Carmen's taunts faded into the wind.

During the flight back, Archer couldn't shake the memory of Carmen threatening Daphne. The protective fury it had sparked surprised him. He'd gone a long time without caring about anyone but himself - why start now? And over a witch who grew flowers, of all people?

7

DAPHNE

Daphne's knees wobbled as she slid off Archer's dragon back, her heart still racing from their confrontation with Carmen. The salty breeze from the nearby ocean did little to calm her nerves as she watched Archer shift back to his human form in a flash of red scales. His jaw was set in a hard line, and his muscles were tense beneath his fitted black t-shirt.

Relief flooded through her as she settled into the leather passenger seat of his Corvette. They were finally away from those intimidating dragons and Carmen's cruel smile. The memory of all those massive creatures surrounding them sent a shiver down her spine.

"Well, that was fun," she said, trying to break the heavy silence. "Nothing like being surrounded by angry dragons to get the blood pumping."

Archer didn't respond. He just gripped the steering wheel tighter, his knuckles turning white as he navigated the winding coastal road. The engine purred as they accelerated, and Daphne found herself studying his profile. His auburn hair caught the late afternoon sun, and those coal-black eyes remained fixed on the road ahead.

"You know, I think I handled that pretty well for someone who usually just talks to plants." She twisted a strand of her dark hair around her finger. "Though I probably shouldn't have pushed Carmen quite so hard about her followers. Did you see how her nostrils flared? I thought she was going to breathe fire right then and there."

Still nothing from him. The silence stretched on as they wound their way through the towering pines toward his mansion. The tension rolling off him was almost tangible, filling the small space between them.

"Okay, the silent treatment is getting a bit old," she said, crossing her arms. "I know you're probably mad that I spoke up, but someone had to say something."

His only response was to press harder on the accelerator, sending them faster around the curves. Daphne rolled her eyes and settled back in her seat. If he wanted to sulk, fine. At least they'd made it out of there in one piece.

Gravel crunched under the tires as Archer's Corvette soon rolled to a stop in front of his mansion. The engine's purr died, leaving them in sudden silence. Daphne admired the sprawling stone facade, with its climbing ivy and gothic architecture. A perfect brooding dragon lair, she thought, fighting back a smile.

Her amusement vanished when Archer whirled to face her, his black eyes blazing. "What were you thinking back there? Speaking up to Carmen like that? Do you have any idea how close you came to being barbecued?"

"I was watching their faces while you two were talking," Daphne said, lifting her chin. "Not all of them agreed with her. I saw doubt in their eyes, hesitation. Someone had to say something."

"That doesn't matter." His hands grabbed the steering wheel, though the car wasn't running. "How many times do I have to explain this? Dragons respect strength. Physical strength. Carmen proved herself by defeating their wing leaders. They'll follow her orders even if they hate every second of it."

"But that's ridiculous!" Daphne threw up her hands. "They're not mindless drones. They're people with thoughts and feelings and-"

"And they'll get themselves killed if they try to stand against her." His voice dropped to a dangerous growl. "Is that what you want? To inspire them to rebel and watch Carmen tear them apart?"

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