Page 46 of Heart Cradle
“Yes they’re real and not quite gifted one. The egg was bestowed, yes, but the hatchling only comes if the pairing is mutual. You don’t choose the dragon, they choose you.”
Maeve blinked. “That’s… intense. Terrifying, but beautiful.”
“In Melrathen, every royal child receives an egg around their fourth year, depending on clutches,” he explained. “The eggs are sacred, guarded, blessed, and never forced. They sleep until they sense their match. Some hatch and become unpaired dragons in the thunder and some never hatch, still waiting for their paired fae.”
“And yours hatched for you?”
“Immediately.” His voice dropped, reverent. “Xelaini cracked her shell the moment I touched it. Head like a stubborn goat and wings like oil. Bit me, too.”
Maeve gave him a look. “She bit you?”
“Yes, she left a scar.” He held up his hand. “Here, she said she didn’t like the way I looked at her.”
Maeve laughed. “Talking dragons, charming.”
“She’s the most dangerous, beautiful creature I’ve ever met,” he said softly. “Well, maybe until you.”
She flushed, scoffing, but didn’t argue at the cheesy line. Instead, she resumed walking. “So what, you raise them like pets?”
“We raise them like sacred equals. You train together, bond and protect each other, it’s a commitment for life and the beyond.”
Maeve was quiet a moment, eyes narrowed as her mind worked. “So what you’re saying is you imprint on an apex predator as a pre-schooler and just hope for the best?”
Eiran laughed again, his voice echoing down the corridor. “More or less, love.”
She shook her head. “I cannot believe they’re real and that you’ve been hiding this. A dragon. That’s the kind of thing you lead with Eiran. Like first date stuff.”
“Well, love, I was a little busy being hopelessly enchanted by an utterly radiant mortal woman in Lisbon.”
She didn’t smile, not quite, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction, but she was watching him like she wanted to. “Will I meet her?” she asked quietly.
His voice softened. “She already knows you’re here, she’s been waiting.”
“Is she going to bite me too?” Maeve internally wavered.
“Of course not, she’s learnt basic manners.” Eiran said taking the stairs two at a time.
The winged silhouettes at the Cottage.
Dragons, they have fucking dragons.
Maeve followed him up a sweeping stone staircase that curved along the outer wall of the tower. The air grew cooler the higher they climbed, the breeze tinged with something archaic and electric, magic, or maybe just him.
“You’re not joking?” she asked, breath catching.
Eiran turned his head, profile kissed by faelight. “Would I joke about my first girl?” he smirked.
That mate bond tensing her again, thudding in her chest and he narrowed her eyes. “Do not call your dragon your first girl.”
“I was five. She bit me, then followed me around for a year straight. She wouldn’t let anyone else near me, we were equally obsessed with one another.”
“So she was your first love.”
He grinned. “Jealous?”
“Of a flying lizard?”
“Careful,” he murmured, low and velvet-dark. “She’ll hear you.”
