A real nod.
A dragon nodding.
“Thank you,” I whispered. “For that. For everything. I… I appreciate it.”
The dragon tilted his head again, like he was studying every flutter of my breath. Then he lowered his huge head and huffed toward the apple in my hand.
I didn’t need him to speak to understand.
Eat.
I ran my fingers over the smooth skin of the apple and smiled—small, tired, grateful. It was the least I could do.
I took a bite.
It was sweet and cold and perfect.
Juice ran down my tongue, and only then did I realise how starved I was—how hollow my ribs felt, how weak my limbs were.
I eased myself down to the cave floor, cross-legged, leaning back against the stone wall. I grabbed my water with shaking fingers.
“It’s good,” I said softly.
The dragon huffed again, a low, satisfied rumble that warmed the air between us.
Almost… proud.
Like he’d chosen it for me himself.
I sank down onto what looked like a sheepskin rug. It was warm beneath my skin, softer than I expected. I pulled my sleeves tighter around my hands—but even wrapped in fabric, I could still see it.
Blood.
Dark under my nails.
Staining the cuffs.
Not mine.
My stomach rolled. A tremor ran through me before I could stop it—just a tiny shiver, but enough.
Because the dragon moved.
His tail—long, black, ridged with faint silver patterns—slid silently across the stone floor. I didn’t even hear it until it curled around me.
A slow, careful coil.
Not trapping.
Not claiming.
Protecting.
Warmth radiated from his scales, seeping into my frozen bones, melting the cold clinging to my skin.
I sucked in a breath.
Not fear.
