I am Dragon (Dragon Fires Rising Book 2) by Marc Secchia (famous ebook reader TXT) 📕

The dry joke brought forth an even dryer chuckle. Master, why were you jealous when Chalice spoke highly of me?

Now, his gaze lidded. Was I? Why are you suggesting this?

Because I’m young and idealistic and a fool when it comes to females? he offered glumly.

Youngling! Spit that rubbish out this instant!

Dragon blinked as Juggernaut’s roar swooshed hot water into his face. Eh?

I don’t stand for lies. What I also do not stand for, is brash young Dragons trying to tell me how to feel and run my life! Have you finished mangling this subject? Or are you going to plead that I give this Dragoness a chance?

No, Master.

A low growl across the pond turned into bubbles as the warrior Dragon immersed himself. He came up snorting and shaking out his wings in pleasure. Marvellous substance, water. Truly extraordinary how it could be so many things – cleansing, refreshing, warming, terrifying, life-giving.

An eye full of yellow fury glared across the waters.

Courage, Dragon.

Quietly, he said, Perhaps due to my being half a Sea Dragon, o Juggernaut, I have a particular magical capability which allows me to scent sense something of the feelings of both Dragons and Humans. I am not skilled in the art by any means, but I will be open and tell you that you may not realise exactly how you feel about Chalice, and – I AM SPEAKING!

The eye blinked. Aye, he dared. Dragon feared a world of pain was about to erupt. His hearts bounded around inside his chest like a quintet of startled deer. No. He would finish. Bury the disaster he had been. Juggernaut could do what he liked afterward; that was his responsibility.

Holding up a paw, he managed to say steadily, You’re right. It is absolutely not my place to speak to you of such things, Master. I lack the faintest inklings regarding your past, your inner thoughts and state, or anything else – but if you asked this idealistic fool over here what he would want to say to you, then it is simply this: Give yourself a chance. You do have fiery regard for Chalice. Maybe you are denying it for reasons you cannot divulge? You took me in and mentored me when I saw nothing of my true self, only pain. I know little, but one thing is clear to me: you are worth loving, and deserve to be loved.

How naïve he sounded. Blergh. Wash the tongue with a caustic!

When Juggernaut did not speak, appearing to have gone to sleep, he surreptitiously pulled himself out of the water and began to pad away.

Dragon.

He glanced back over his shoulder. Master?

You do know that you not only have the biggest butt in these mountains, you’re also the biggest pain in the butt?

What the – he blinked, ten times. The grin that showed just above the water did not change in the slightest. Rude, yet true in the most infuriating way possible. Did that mean …

I will speak with Chalice. Now, get out of here before I loosen a few of your fangs as I really ought to.

Result!

* * * *

That afternoon, they packed and prepared for the northerly run to Amboraine. While it was not far as the Dragon flew, the vertical height of the final pass posed the main challenge to even the draconic traveller – a whopping twenty-three thousand feet. The alternative was a four-day flight around the mountains to the East, which carried the distinct possibility that they might encounter a few Terror Clan friends once more.

The type of friends who only wanted to get close enough to slip a talon between one’s ribs.

He was not a happy Dragon.

“Did you know your new patterning makes it look as if fires are playing along your flanks when you fly?” Azania chirped.

“How nice.”

“I can trim the excess hide a bit more around your head, where it’s looking tatty.”

“Tatty? You are too kind, Highness.”

“How is my hair?”

“You tamed the frizz? Astonishing.”

“Frizz? Bad, bad Dragon!” she growled, making to stomp off in a huff. “You’re in a foul mood – let me go!”

Clasping her in his right forepaw, he wagged the fore-talon of the left beneath her definite little chin. “Behave. Just because I’m outvoted on the route doesn’t mean I have to like it. Apologies for the undeserved growling session. So, I observe that you have used a slightly heavier, silkier hair oil with a wonderful fragrance – Hulbine lilies and attar of crimson desert rose, am I correct?”

“Er … aye?”

Her tone implied how weird it was that a male Dragon should know such feminine matters so well.

“Very good,” he purred, almost tripping over his own ego in the process of adding, “the quality of curl and the lustre of the individual filaments, to my disbelief, has improved from merely arresting to outright jaw-dropping. Congratulations, Highness.”

“Dragon, stop mocking me.”

Instantly, he regretted his tone. She was sensitive about her hair, just as Dragons were sensitive about their scales. “The admiration is sincere. Listen to what I say, not to how I say it.”

“Do as I say, not as I do?”

“Quite,” he grinned, then ironed his lips straight. “Are you also nervous about flying North? Not the immediate North, I mean …”

“Aye. How are you with people kissing your paws, Dragon?”

“Blergh.”

“I thought so. Therefore, settle for my grateful thanks. I had not realised what was making me so ratty.”

“Ratty?”

“The Human equivalent of a nasty scale rash.”

“Ooh, how you conjure up my very worst nightmares.”

Laughing, they walked up together to Juggernaut’s lair, where the Princess fetched her talon dagger and informed him that she was his beautician. Purr! In a manner of speaking. She tidied up the loose scales and hide with a steady hand, sitting right atop