Page 32 of Jace

She nodded, and began rummaging in the cupboards again.

Jace walked back down the hall to Zeke’s room as slowly and calmly as he could.

The longer he escaped Susannah’s delicious scent, the more he would have his wits about him to plan how to talk with her.

But it was hard to concentrate on the youngling when his heart seemed to be in his throat.

He took a deep breath and focused on the baby’s dark eyes, speaking calmly to him about the day they had shared and what was coming tomorrow.

Though a dragonet of this age might have understood a few of the words, the Imberian whelp was still all but helpless.

But Jace was determined to treat him respectfully, so that when he could understand, he would feel at home in adult conversation.

Besides, it was calming his own restless spirit to review the day and think toward tomorrow. Whatever happened in his conversation with Susannah, all he told the whelp would be true. They would survey, gather, and hunt tomorrow. All would be well.

Once Zeke was fully settled in his crib, his eyelashes resting on his chubby cheeks, Jace slowly backed out of the room and closed the door behind him.

He could hear Susannah humming to herself at the counter, and the clinking of utensils on a plate. It made him remember his mother in the farmhouse kitchen of his childhood and he smiled to himself.

“I noticed something about the house,” she said as he joined her in the kitchen.

“What is it?” he asked.

“You don’t have a bed,” she said, her eyes seeming to look anywhere but at him.

“It’s not a problem,” he told her.

“But where will you sleep?” she asked.

“I am a soldier,” he reminded her. “I can sleep anywhere. While the whelp is small, I will place my bedroll on his floor, so that if there is danger in the night, I can attend to him. When he is older, I’ll move to a tent outside.”

“A tent?” she echoed, a horrified look on her face.

“I am a soldier,” he repeated.

“I don’t want you to sleep on the floor,” she said. “Or in a tent.”

He blinked at her, realizing this was his opening, but almost afraid to take it.

“Susannah,” he told her. “There is something we must speak of.”

“What is it?” she asked.

“Sit,” he told her. “Eat your dinner while we talk.”

She nodded slowly and sat at the counter, pulling her plate closer.

He could see that she had warmed half a dozen biscuits and spread protein slime on them. It was a good way to make the mixture more appealing in a pinch.

“How much do you know about the Invicta?” he asked, leaning on the counter beside her stool.

She swallowed a bite of her concoction without gagging and took a sip of water.

“I know that you’re dragon shifters,” she said. “And that you dedicate your lives to protecting your homeland. And of course, I know about Imber and the work you are doing with the babies.”

“Yes. All of that is right,” he said approvingly, noticing the way she smiled at his praise. “Do you know any specifics about our shifting?”

“What do you mean?” she asked.