Page 10 of Curvy Girl and the Single Dad Dragon
"She's okay," Luna adds quickly, interrupting my spiraling thoughts. "We did the breathing exercises you showed her, and she calmed down pretty quickly. No one was hurt."
I force myself to look at her, searching for signs of the terror I'd seen in Jenny's eyes that first time. But Luna's hazel eyes are steady, her heartbeat elevated but not racing with fear, her scent altered but not soured with disgust or panic.
"You're still here," I say finally, the realization dawning slowly.
A small smile touches her lips. "I'm still here."
"Why?" The question comes out harsher than intended, but I need to understand. Humans don't witness children breathing fire and simply carry on with their day.
Luna glances toward the stairs, then back to me. "Can we sit down? This feels like a sitting down kind of conversation."
I nod stiffly, following her to the living room where she takes a seat on the couch. I remain standing, too agitated to sit, the dragon in me wanting to pace, to guard, to secure my territory and my offspring.
"Ember was terrified that I would leave," Luna begins, her hands folded calmly in her lap. "The first thing she said afterit happened was 'Please don't run away like Mommy did.' Not 'don't be scared' or 'I can explain.' She was afraid of being abandoned again."
Something twists painfully in my chest. "And that's why you stayed? Pity?"
"No." Her answer is firm, immediate. "I stayed because a scared little girl needed me to stay. I stayed because she trusted me enough to show me who she really is, even if it was by accident. And I stayed because..." She hesitates, then continues more softly, "Because I promised her I would."
I study her face, searching for deception, for hidden motives, finding none. "You saw a child breathe fire, and your response was to help her with breathing exercises and then continue with your day as if nothing happened."
Luna shrugs slightly. "Well, I did have a minor existential crisis while she was napping, but I kept it quiet."
A startled laugh escapes me before I can stop it. This woman is either insane or extraordinary. Possibly both.
"Daddy?" Ember's small voice comes from the top of the stairs. She peers down at us, her golden eyes wide with apprehension.
"It's okay, princess. You can come down."
She descends slowly, watching my face for signs of anger. When she reaches the bottom step, she looks between Luna and me.
"Are you mad?" she asks in a small voice.
I kneel to her level, opening my arms. She rushes into them, burying her face against my chest. "No, I'm not mad. Accidents happen, especially when big emotions are involved."
"Luna didn't leave," Ember whispers against my shirt. "She saw my fire and she stayed."
"I see that." I look up at Luna over my daughter's head, still struggling to comprehend her reaction. Most humans would be halfway to the next state by now, convinced they'd hallucinated or determined to report the dangerous freaks to authorities.
"I did the breathing just like you taught me," Ember continues, pulling back to look at me proudly. "In through the nose, out through the mouth. Luna helped me."
"That's my girl." I smooth her dark curls away from her face. "Why don't you go wash up for dinner while Luna and I finish talking?"
"Are you going to tell her everything?" Ember asks, her eyes lighting up with excitement. "About how we can fly and how old you really are and about the treasure and—"
"Ember," I cut her off gently but firmly. "Go wash up."
She sighs dramatically but obeys, pausing to give Luna a quick hug before darting back upstairs. We both watch her go, and when I turn back to Luna, she's looking at me with new interest.
"You can fly?" she asks, one eyebrow raised. "And you have treasure? How old are you really?"
"This is not how I would have chosen for this conversation to happen."
"I imagine not." Luna's voice is gentle, but I can hear the underlying steel. She's not letting me off the hook. "But it is happening, so perhaps you should explain what exactly I've gotten myself into by accepting this job."
She's right, of course. She deserves the truth, especially since she's reacted with such unexpected grace to what she's already seen. I finally sit down in the armchair across from her, trying to decide where to begin.
"What do you think you saw today?" I ask, wanting to gauge her understanding before I reveal too much.
