Potatoes were the best food ever. In any form. Fry them, mash them, roast them—every which way was delicious.
“See? We rarely put on a spread like this anymore, and it’s so worth it,” he said, focused solely on his plate.
“Healer Rowan! Hope you’re doing well,” a dragon shouted as he walked by, handing me a slice of cake with a wide smile on his face. “Have a slice of this before it all gets eaten. There are cinnamon rolls, as well.”
“Thank you. I—” I trailed off, not knowing the dragon’s name as he handed me another plate, this one with a cinnamon rollon it as well.
“I’m Monty. We haven’t had the pleasure of meeting yet, but you helped my little sister with her broken wrist.”
“Oh! Lily. How is she doing?” I asked.
There had only been one dragon who’d come to the clinic regarding a broken wrist that was struggling to heal—a teenage girl with a big smile and enough enthusiasm to fuel several hordes.
“Well, you’ve met her. You know nothing can drag her down,” he said with a smile. “She says she’s feeling a hell of a lot better, though. For that, I thank you.”
He shoved the plate into my hands, and I took it gratefully. One of his friends shouted his name, which distracted him from our conversation.
As he walked away, Griffin whistled low. “You’re getting all the love if they’re giving you the baked goods. Those things usually don’t last ten seconds when Ma dishes them up.”
Instead of answering, I simply grinned at him before taking a bite of the cake with glee.
“Aren’t you supposed to eat dinner before dessert?” a deep voice said from behind me.
A moment later, Greylen was sitting next to me. His dark hair was pushed back out of his face, and a comfortable, relaxed smile spread across his face. Like everyone else, he was in casual clothing: sweatpants and a hoodie.
“As a healer, I know what’s best,” I said with a grin. “And sometimes dessert before dinner is the way to go.” I smirked, taking a bite of my cake.
He grinned back at me. “Well, if the healer says it, I guess it must be true.” He reached out for one of the sweet rolls in front of my seat. “May I?”
I nodded. “There’s no way I’m going to eat all these.”
So close I could smell the subtle salty scent that clung to him. All fresh and bright. I wanted to stick my face in his neck and inhale. My eyes drifted to his hand as they reached out to grab one of the cinnamon rolls I had been given.
I had never thought that hands could be attractive… but Greylen’s were. Large, masculine. I couldn’t help but think about what those hands could do…
“The horde loves you. This is how they show their love,” he explained, taking a bite and groaning in happiness. “I swear, Ma is a gift from the gods.”
Groaning. Why did he have to groan? Apparently my mind was in the gutter, and not coming out anytime soon.
The fact that the horde was starting to love me made my chest warm.
I wasn't used to adoration wherever I went. Healers were often treated with the utmost respect, but there was something about the affection of these dragons that felt different.
“Are you flying tonight?” I asked, cocking my head to the side. It was a silly question, given his comfortable clothing, but I found myself wanting to talk with him.
He nodded, taking another bite of the cinnamon roll. “It’s been a while. I could do with stretching my wings.”
“Just what the healer ordered,” I said with asmirk. For a second, we ate, and even though I was distracted by the food, I couldn’t help but shiver at the chilly temperature.
“Are you cold?” Greylen asked.
“A little. Griff dragged me down here without giving me time to change. While I’m not mad at him, because this food is worth it, I don't run hot like dragons do.”
“Well, that’s not okay,” Grey commented, leaning in closer and smiling for a moment before pulling back, his hands going to the hem of his hoodie.
My train of thought was swiftly derailed when Greylen’s naked torso came into view. Even though he was the numbers cruncher of the clan, he was still annoyingly ripped.
“Uhh…”
