Dragix lands on our mountain. His mountain. And we do the whole cook, eat, try not to puke when the dragon crunches down on the rest of the poor animal routine.
Then he pushes aside the boulder, and I expect to see Maez waiting. Instead, he shifts back into a man and steps toward the stairs, gesturing for me to follow him.
Is this a trick?
Obviously not because Dragix is casting an impatient look over his shoulder. I jump into action and follow him into his lair.
The staircase is steep, but there are torches placed along the walls, the dancing flames providing enough light to ensure I don’t tumble down the stairs.
And down we go. I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t a spiral staircase leading to a small landing with a few doors, followed by another staircase and then another.
It’s dark. But strangely, the tall ceilings and the fresh air I can feel wafting in from somewhere ensure that it’s not claustrophobic. I guess if you’re a winged creature choosing to live inside, you’re going to make sure you don’t feel trapped.
The walls are mostly smooth rock, and this whole place seems…ancient.
How the hell did so much of this mountain get cut away without risking the structural integrity?
I can hear running water somewhere, and I’m instantly ready to explore this place and discover its secrets. But Dragix pauses before we go down yet another set of stairs and again gestures for me to follow him—this time into a room. I blink, realizing that the dirt and stone has been removed to reveal a window overlooking a shady forest.
A collection of wooden chests is sitting near the window, and I avert my eyes from Dragix’s ridiculously toned butt as he leans down and opens one of them. He’s not at all self-conscious about his nudity—and why would he be with that body?—but I’m still attempting to ignore the way my traitorous hormones react to all that golden skin.
Since I’m keeping my eyes on the stone wall, and carefully not fantasizing about what it would feel like to have that huge body wrapped around me, it takes me a moment to realize Dragix is saying my name.
I glance back at him in time to see his nostrils flare as his eyes scan my body, lingering on my hardened nipples.
Please tell me he can’t smell my arousal.
From the way his eyes have darkened, I’d say he sure can.
I clear my throat and reach for the bundle of clothes he’s holding out.
“These were my sister’s,” he says, and his eyes are no longer dark with what might have been his own lust. No, they’re dark with pain, his expression bleak for an instant before his face hardens again.
I’m guessing his sister isn’t here anymore.
“Thank you,” I murmur. “I appreciate it.”
He nods, and instead of leaving me to get changed, once again gestures for me to follow him.
We travel down several more flights of stairs, and then this time, the landing drops off. I step closer to the edge, peering over the stone.
Whoa.
The walkway I’m standing on is wrapped around the inside of the mountain, and it spirals down, with open doorways on every level. What I thought was his entire lair is really just one wing of it.
“This place is massive.”
Dragix nods. “It was once home to my people. All of them.”
His eyes are shuttered as he turns away, and as much as I want to ask what the hell happened to those people, I don’t.
Silence stretches between us as Dragix leads me down one more flight of stairs. Then I’m blinking in shock as he steps aside. Several pools are cut into the side of the mountain, steam rising into the air.
“No way,” I murmur. The hint of a smile is playing around his mouth when I glance at him.
“You will likely enjoy this more than the river.”
I angle my head. “You didn’t think to tell me that there were hot pools down here?”
“You didn’t ask.”
Funny guy.
“Why did you keep me upstairs on the top of the mountain?”
“I am too big to navigate this place in my full form.”
I stare at him, and his jaw tightens.
“I had forgotten that I could shift,” he admits, turning away.
Wow. When he said he was practicing, I thought he was rusty—not that he’d just straight up forgotten that he used to walk around as a man. No wonder he examined his hand like he’d never seen before. It also explains why he seemed so unsteady on his feet when he first shifted.
“I will send Maez with the things you need.”
“Thank you,” I say, and this time, it’s easier to say the words without choking. He didn’t have to do this. He saw me freezing my butt off in the river and realized I needed a proper bath.
He simply nods and walks away.
Dragix
I am…different in this form. When I have two legs instead of four, the memories come like a wave. Being down here, in the place that was once home, makes it worse.
There, by the window, is where my sister used to sit and gaze out at the world. She could daydream for hours, days, but she always had a smile for anyone who interrupted her quiet time.
And in this place, there were always interruptions.
Our home was thriving, packed with our families, living together, mating, laughing. Near the end, there was no laughter, simply silence, tears, mourning as we buried what was left of our people.
It’s the younglings that I think of in this form. The way they would scamper through this place, shifting from two-leg to winged form and eventually falling down in a heap, exhausted as they forgot to eat. They’d be picked up and cuddled by whoever walked by and taken back to their parents for food and rest.
We were happy here.
In this
