Series: Charmaine Pauls
Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Aruan goes still. It’s more than the mere quiet that defines an absence of sound. His whole being freezes in the way that follows in the wake of disbelief and miracles.
The creature closes her eyes as if in ecstasy and rubs her fine-haired head against my neck. The tuft of feathers on her crown tickles my nose.
A giggle bubbles over my lips.
Aruan clenches my shoulders in his big hands, his grip like an iron vise. But Betty continues to rub herself against me, dragging her chin over my hair. She nudges me softly and gently runs her barbed, prehensile tongue over my hand before returning to caressing my face.
“Dragons,” Aruan says, his voice not sounding like his own.
Carefully, he pulls me away from the pterosaur, walking us backward toward the path, the black flowers forgotten where he dropped them on the ground.
Betty is undeterred. She follows us, her long neck swaying as she trudges after me like a tame goose with her huge claws sinking into the wet soil. It’s not until we reach the border of the farming fields that she pauses.
This must be her cut-off point, the closest to the Alit she’s prepared to go on foot.
As Aruan and I climb to the top of the hill, her cry pierces the sky—a lonely, hauntingly sad sound.
The villagers look up with fright, then drop their forks and spades, getting ready to run for their lives.
With a last stretch of her neck in our direction, Betty unfolds her wings and bounces off her powerful legs to leap eight feet into the air. Screams from people running for the nearest shelter echo through the valley as she dives low, swirling over Aruan and me, before flapping her wings with strong strokes and heading back toward the lake with the speed of a car on a highway.
“Wow.” I stare at her fast-disappearing shape in wonder. “Wasn’t that amazing?”
When I turn back to Aruan, he’s staring at me with astonishment and confusion.
Chapter 15
Aruan
Leading Elsie by the hand, I pull her into Kian’s quarters.
My brother frowns. His private rooms are his sanctuary, and he doesn’t appreciate visitors or interruptions.
He sets aside the small chisel he’s been using to cut a priceless moon-colored opal and brushes away the residue powder with an annoyed flick of his hand.
“Aruan.” His smile is flat. “What a pleasant disruption.”
“Cut the sarcasm, Kian.” I bring Elsie to stand next to me. “As much as it pains me, I need your opinion.”
He doesn’t have to ask about what. He shifts his expressionless gaze to Elsie. “What did she do? I got the impression that the idea of me sifting through your mate’s thoughts didn’t appeal to you.”
“It doesn’t.” The idea alone sets my teeth on edge. “Do it anyway.”
“Hey,” Elsie says, more than a little irked. “It’s my mind.” She pulls her hand from mine. “Don’t I get a say?”
My brother arranges his arms on the armrests of his chair with an eloquent motion. “What am I to be looking for, Aruan?”
“Apparently not,” Elsie mumbles, rolling her eyes.
Turning her to me, I cup her delicate face between my palms. My words are soft, soothing. “Don’t you want to understand what just happened?”
“Is it important?” she asks, not seeming fazed in the least.
I stare at my mate in disbelief. There’s only one reason why that dragon would be at the lake. It must have a nest there with eggs. Flying dragons, especially ones that lay leathery, soft-shelled white eggs, are notoriously aggressive, and even more so when they have eggs to protect. Yet the beast licked Elsie’s hand as if to caress her, and then it followed her like a trained spiked dragon pet.
“Yes,” I say with finality. “It concerns your safety.”
“Enough of the nest scraping.” Kian examines us as if we were interesting rocks in his precious stone collection. “Get to the point, and tell me what’s going on.”
Elsie’s brows snap together. “Nest scraping?”
“It’s a metaphor for courting, meaning that mates are behaving in a loving and affectionate way.” I shoot Kian a cutting look. “When a male dragon excavates a pseudo nest for a potential mate to prove his ability to provide for her, it’s called nest scraping.”
Kian’s lips pull into a rare grin. “Which means that my brother here is going to be scraping for real very soon, and I’m going to enjoy every minute of watching him grovel.”
I return his gesture with an unfriendly smile of my own. “Your turn will come.”
The pleasure he was taking from the prospect of seeing me grovel is wiped off his face. At some point, all males grovel for our mates, especially when our mates’ bellies grow big with our babies. There are no lengths an Alit male won’t go to to please his female. And to Kian, there’s no bigger punishment than being shackled to a lifelong companion. Whereas most Alit are proud to claim their mates, Kian would rather grow old alone, free of any emotional burdens.