The fireplace mantel was bare; every trinket and book was now scattered across the floor. The curtains I’d used to block out the sunlight were ripped down, tangled around a thrashing black-silver scaled body. The little dragon flailed, its long tail completely ensnared in the red fabric, knocking over a chair in its struggle.
I exhaled sharply, placing my hands on my hips. “What in the ever-loving hell are you trying to do, dragon?”
He froze at my voice, silver eyes snapping to mine. A low, frustrated huff escaped his nostrils, sending a small puff of smoke my way. I sighed, stepping forward to start untangling him, ignoring how his tail twitched like he wasn’t sure whether to trust or to smack me.
“You’re lucky you’re cute, or I'd be seriously reconsidering this whole ‘saving you’ thing.”
“I have a name.”His voice was smooth yet edged with impatience. I huffed, crossing my arms.
“Yeah? Well, until you tell me what it is, you’re just a dragon, or a pain in the ass. It’s your choice.” I shot him a look as I yanked the last of the tangled fabric free, rolling it into a ball before tossing it into the bin.
“It’s been a week,” I muttered, glancing back at him. “You’d think after saving your life, I’d at least get a damn name by now.”
“I’m hungry,”He flapped his wings, now fully healed, thanks to the salve I’d made from the herbs I gathered in the forest.
I sighed, rubbing my temple. “What exactly does a dragon eat?” I was met with silence.
I turned to find him watching me with those sharp silver eyes like mine, unblinking. Great, that’s a lot of help.
Shaking my head, I yanked open the cupboards, only to be greeted by empty shelves. Again.
“Damn it,” I muttered under my breath.
That meant another trip to the town tonight, a risk I wasn’t looking forward to. I glanced back at the dragon, who was still staring at me.
“Unless you eat dust and disappointment, we’re both out of luck.”
“I like mice.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Well, I don’t eat mice, dragon.”
He gave a low huff, shaking his head like I was the strange one here. Then, with an exaggerated flick of his tail, he sent another one of my books to the floor.
“Seriously?” I shot him a glare.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Because I don’t have an answer,” I grumbled, bending down to scoop up the book.
“Do I look like someone who keeps a stash of fresh rodents lying around?”
He tilted his head. “You could.”I groaned, dragging a hand down my face.
“Great, now I have to add ‘mice hunting’ to my list of problems.” I dropped into one of the only chairs that wasn’t broken, the wood groaning under my weight. The dragon padded closer, his obsidian scales shimmering in the light through the torn curtains, shifting like a liquid shadow,
“I will tell you my name if you get me mice.”
I arched a brow, brushing a hand through my tangled hair, a mess of white strands, the ends tipped with red. It fell over my shoulders in wild waves, a constant reminder of who I was.
“Are you seriously bargaining with me right now?” His eyes gleamed with something dangerously close to amusement, and if dragons could smirk, he was doing it.
I let out a slow breath, my fingers tapping against the wooden armrest. A week ago, dragons were extinct, nothing but a legend. Yet here he was, standing in my living room, casuallyblackmailing me over rodents. If any of the witches, especially the high coven, found out about him, he would be executed without hesitation. Knowing them, I wouldn’t be far behind; at least we had that in common.
I leaned back, folding my arms. “You’re a real pain, you know that?”
“And yet, you haven’t kicked me out.”He had me there.
“Fine, tell me your name and I will catch your damn mice,” He chuffed and cocked his head to the side, then gently laid it on my knee.
