Page 202 of Upon Buried Embers
“Absolutely not.”
“But—”
“No.” I pout, and his eyes dip to it. “You can’t do that.”
“What?”
“That with your lips.”
“Pouting?”
“Yes, that. Don’t do it.”
I frown. “Why?”
“Because how am I supposed to resist that?”
He actually sounds mad about it.
I raise up on my tiptoes and pull him down to kiss his lips. “Does this make it better if you give in?”
“Maybe.”
He smiles into another kiss, until Drogonah’s impatient roar breaks us apart.
“I think he’s ready to leave,” I say, eyeing how he has Sparks on his stomach, flat, his foot on his back to keep him there while Sparks wiggles and whines.
I can’t wait for the others to meet him.
“Turn around.” I do, and Rohan gathers my braided hair, pulling it back up high for the journey.
I will never not want his hands in my hair, it’s so soothing, comforting.
“There.”
I turn and feel the back of my head, my eyes widening as I look at his forearm.
“You used your ribbon to tie my hair?”
“Just another thing of mine you claimed.”
I smile, stroking along his forearm. I haven’t asked him why he doesn’t have scales like the other Dragonbonds, but with the way he’s tensing at my touch, before slowly relaxing, I don’t want to bring it up and disrupt the mood.
“Thank you.”
He looks down at me, probably wondering if I’ll ask, but instead, he takes my hand and pulls me along. “Let’s go home.”
Home?
Something warm swirls in my stomach.
“No one is left?” I ask Rohan as I grab Sparks, him baring his little baby teeth at a nonchalant Drogonah before he helps me climb on Drogonah’s back.
It’s early morning, so I wrap Sparks up in my cloak as Rohan settles behind me, watching the other Dragonbonds part ways mid-air.
My braids blow in the wind. They’re a mixture of small and larger ones, looking shorter with how high Rohan has put them, and I pick one up as my eyes catch on the hair at the end of the reins as Rohan holds them, and what it means runs through my mind.
I swallow my nerves. “Rohan? Do you have a blade I could use for a moment, please?”
