Page 14 of Curvy Girl and the Single Dad Dragon
"But he didn't tell you it would be fire," she points out, her golden eyes wise beyond her years. "You figured it out and stayed anyway."
"Well, I couldn't very well leave my favorite dragon without a nanny, could I?" I say lightly, reaching out to tap Ember's nose. "Who else would help you with fractions?"
She wrinkles her nose. "I hate fractions."
"All dragons do," Damon says with mock seriousness. "It's our species' one weakness."
"Besides silver," Ember adds, then claps her hand over her mouth, looking guiltily at her father. "Oops."
I nearly choke on my pizza. "Silver? Like werewolves?"
Damon sighs, shooting his daughter an exasperated look. "Not exactly like werewolves, who, by the way, are also real."
"At this point, nothing surprises me anymore," I counter, raising an eyebrow.
That gets a reluctant smile from him. "Fair point. But no, silver doesn't burn us or anything dramatic like that. It interferes with certain aspects of our nature. Makes it harder to control our temperature, dampens our heightened senses. Mostly it's just uncomfortable, like wearing shoes that are too tight."
"Is that why there's no silver in the house?" I ask, realizing I haven't seen any silver picture frames, candlesticks, or cutlery.
"Observant," Damon notes, looking impressed. "Yes, we avoid it when possible. Gold is actually much more comfortable for us. Dragons have an affinity for gold and certain gemstones."
"The treasure!" I exclaim, remembering Ember's earlier comment. "So that part of the legends is true?"
"We don't sleep on piles of gold coins, if that's what you're asking," he says dryly. "But yes, we do collect precious metals and gems. They... resonate with us, for lack of a better explanation."
"Do you have a treasure hoard?" I ask, genuinely curious.
Damon hesitates, and I immediately backtrack.
"Sorry, that's probably too personal. Like asking about your bank account."
"It's more like asking about a sacred space," he explains. "A dragon's hoard is private, meant only for family and the most trusted individuals."
"I have a baby hoard," Ember announces proudly. "Daddy helps me find special stones and shiny things for it."
"That's wonderful," I tell her, touched by this glimpse into their private dragon customs. "Maybe someday you can show me your favorite piece."
Her eyes light up. "Can I, Daddy? Luna's trustworthy, right?"
Damon's expression softens as he looks at his daughter. "Luna has proven herself trustworthy today, yes. But a hoard is still a very private thing. Let's give it some time."
Ember seems satisfied with this answer, returning to her pizza with enthusiasm. I take another slice myself, marveling at how surreal all this is: eating dinner with two dragons who look completely human except for their unusual golden eyes.
"So," I say after a few moments of comfortable silence, "what else should I know about caring for a young dragon? Any special requirements I should be aware of?"
Damon sets down his pizza, considering. "Like I told you before, Ember's temperature runs hotter than humans, around 101 degrees is normal for her."
"I noticed she feels warm when she hugs me," I nod. "Anything else?"
"She needs more sleep than human children her age, usually 10-12 hours. The fire takes energy to produce and control."
"That explains the nap," I muse, remembering how Ember had fallen asleep reading after lunch.
"And she'll need outdoor time every day, weather permitting," Damon continues. "Dragon children need space to run, to release energy safely."
"What about the fire?" I ask, glancing at Ember who is now on her fourth slice. "Is there anything I should do differently than what we did today?"
"You handled it perfectly," he assures me. "The breathing technique is the first line of defense against accidental flames. If that doesn't work, get her to a safe place—ideally somewhere without flammable materials—and call me immediately."
