“You can reheat?”
“I’ll show you.” She picked up his plate and carried it to the machine. “You push this button here to open the warmer then this one to reheat.” Ten seconds later, his steaming slice slid out. The food did exude a stronger smell when hot. The scent was…if not appetizing then interesting…
“And this is how you order it.” He keyed in a code so she could watch. After the machine produced a fresh slice, he took the plate and held it out to her. Her fyre exploded in a burst of heat shooting burning contrails throughout her body. Yearning collided into duty, innocence into lust, ignorance into import.
Do not touch that dish, the dragoness roared. Have you lost your mind? He knows not what he does, and neither apparently do you!
You said his fyre was inconsequential. That he was human, she taunted.
He is human!
Then we have no quibble. Defiantly, she took the dish.
The dragoness howled.
In accordance with tradition, when a Draconian male chose a mate, he offered her food. She signaled her willingness to merge fyres by accepting the token. The giving and acceptance of food was considered a binding betrothal.
Except the ritual did not apply to the priestess, who could not take a mate. She was bonded to the Eternal Fyre and would be until it consumed her. And to a human, food was just food.
“Shall we sit?” she invited.
They moved to the table he’d abandoned. “Would you care for a view?” she asked. If he took in the sights, she would be free to watch him. To commit his face, his manner, his bearing to memory. A personal treasure to covet later.
Her dragoness snarled.
“A view of what?”
“The stars.” She signaled the ship with a wave, and five good-sized portholes appeared in the hull.
His jaw dropped almost comically. “How did you do that?”
“The ship is constructed of intelligent material and responds to commands based on our DNA. What it will or won’t do depends on the programming.” She offered up what she hoped was an apologetic smile. “The ship will do very little for you. I have ultimate clearance and approval. If every other dragon on this ship expired, including the captain, the ship would get me to safety.”
“Because you’re the priestess.”
“Yes.”
“And protecting you protects the Eternal Fyre.”
“Yes.” She took a bite of the pizza. He did the same, and they chewed in silence. He wasn’t watching the view but staring at her.
“Well? What do you think?” he asked after she’d swallowed.
“It’s…interesting.”
It is disgusting! the dragoness said.
It was unappetizing, but the dragoness’s displeasure encouraged her to take a bigger bite.
“It’s different from the pizza back home, and I wasn’t sure I liked it, but it’s gotten better—or maybe it’s the company I’m with.”
At the implied compliment, her neglected fyre swelled.
“In the interest of avoiding a faux pas—what am I supposed to call you? Priestess or O’ne?” he asked.
Her name on his lips touched her like a caress. “O’ne will be acceptable.” When she’d met him and introduced herself, it had been the first time she’d spoken her former name in thousands of years.
He smiled. Her fyre danced. The dragoness growled. You are the priestess!
She blocked the rants from her consciousness. For today—for the rest of the voyage, she would be O’ne. Once the ship arrived on Elementa, she would consecrate the new temple and rebirth the Eternal Fyre. Until then, she would indulge herself. But it would not be fair to mislead him. He tried to hide his longing, but he exuded a fragrant hope.
“I must be honest,” she said. “When we land, I must consecrate the new temple. My duties will be, are…all consuming.”
“So this voyage is all the time we have?”
She nodded.
“Then we’d better make the most of it.”
A dragon would dismiss the warmth spreading through her as a pale imitation of their normally red-hot emotions, but oh, it was pleasurable, powerful. She’d expected to be rebuffed. Why wouldn’t he when she had nothing to offer, except a few seconds stolen from eternity?
He shifted his gaze to survey the vacant dining hall. “Why did everyone leave?”
“They fear me.” They worshiped at the temple, praying they did not encounter her. It would not be far from the truth to say she held their lives in the palm of her hand—not that they knew what she could do.
“Should I fear you?” His eyes twinkled, as if the idea were preposterous.
Yes, but she was loath to disabuse his ignorance, for ignorance was bliss. Hers. His lack of awareness was a gift. Others had fled; he had stayed. “Not if you don’t intend me harm.”
“Never.”
He meant it. She smelled the truth. Her powers outmatched the king’s, yet the sight of H’ry’s attractive face and warm gaze rendered her as awkward as a dragonling falling out of the nest. Her heart fluttered, adding to her light-headedness. Say something! “So, H’ry, tell me of your life on Earth.”
“H’ry?”
His mimic didn’t come close to the pronunciation. Amusement tugged at her lips. “Your name in Dragonish,” she explained. “Not all Earth names have cognates in our language, but yours does.”
“Ah.”
“Is it acceptable if I call you that?” she asked.
“Of course, O’ne.” His cheeks dimpled.
He teased. Her hands fluttered in the voluminous folds of her skirt. No one had ever teased her. “Your life…”
“On Earth. Right. I grew up in what would be considered an upper-middle-class traditional home. My dad retired from the military, ran for state assembly, and won. My mother was a dentist. I have an older sister who went into practice with my mom. I served in the military for eight years then the CIA recruited me.”
“What is that?”
“Central Intelligence Agency, a surveillance organization. My government sent me
