Page 10 of Heimlock

“I’ve watched you struggle for five minutes. Would the damsel like a solution to her distress?”

I frown. “I’m not a damsel in distress; I’m a vertically challenged Sprite.”

His eyes flick to my wings. “Can’t you just flutter into the air?”

“First off, I don’t flutter,” I snipe. “Second, that’s rude, and a misuse of my abilities.” I pointedly look him up and down. “As a Dragon, I’m sure you’re unfamiliar with the concept of discretion.”

His smile is so wide, white fangs flash. “What’s discretion?”

“Exactly.”

He huffs out a laugh. “Let me at least buy you a drink so you aren’t forced to suffer and use discretion all night.”

I open my mouth to refuse, but then remember why I’m here. To find magic.

“Fine. You can get me one drink.” I quickly add, “But it doesn’t mean anything.”

The last thing I need is some man thinking I owe him my evening for one measly drink.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says smoothly. Stepping into my personal space, he leans an elbow on the bar. It’s astounding how easy it is for him; all it takes is a single raised finger and the bartender saunters over. If it weren’t so impressive, I’d be pissed off.

“What would you like?” Lowering his voice, he adds, “Make it expensive, or I’ll be insulted.”

Challenge accepted. “I’d like a Heimlock, please.”

He narrows his eyes. It’s the cheapest beer option on the menu. Costs about three corals. Some drinks on the menu were seventy corals. My mouth twitches, trying to hide my smirk.

He raises an eyebrow, his own mouth quirking at the corner. To the bartender, he says, “Two Heimlocks, please.”

The bartender slides away, leaving us to simmer in this moment crackling with tension. It gives me an opportunity to take Trinte in. His scales are various shades of blue, their iridescence glistening in the light. He’s muscular, in an almost-intimidating way. I fight hand-to-hand with men all the time, but that doesn’t mean I’m blind to being outmatched. At least, appearing to be outmatched.

Men’s weakness will always reside between their legs, for better or worse.

But it’s also the quiet confidence inside his observations. How his gaze scans the crowd, as if looking for potential problems.

Finally, his focus is back on me. Something deep inside my belly warms at the intense expression that strips me bare.

His low voice tingles along my spine as he asks, “Are you here for the speed dating event?”

I smile. “Isn’t everybody?”

He cocks his head, brows drawn together. “Why?”

“Why, what?”

He motions at me with a hand. “Why would someone like you need to go to a speed dating event?”

I look down at my dress, where my cleavage is on full display. “Trying something different, I guess.” I make a show of examining him. “And what about you? I’ve heard Dragons have no difficulty in the dating department.”

A dark cloud of something passes over his face, then melts into a smile. “I’m thirty-five and growing tired of the club hook-ups. In theory, I’d like something a little more real one day.”

“Just a little?”

His focus on me is painfully acute. “Alright, maybe a bit more than a little.”

My chest flutters with nervousness. Maybe this event won’t be lame after all. “I’m Kyrielle, in case you were wondering.”

“Kyrielle.” He savors saying my name, like it’s a delicious dessert. Suddenly, all I want is to hear my name on his lips again.