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He shifts and a sharp hiss of pain escapes his lips. I turn to face him. As much as I enjoy his warmth, I don’t want him in pain. “This is uncomfortable for your bad wing. I’ll move over and—”
“You need to stay warm,” he says, not loosening his arm wrapped around me. “I will be fine.”
I open my mouth to argue, but he presses a finger to my lips, silencing me. A sly smirk twists his lips. “Do not argue with me, Freyja. We should not go to bed upset. Remember?”
He removes his finger, and I narrow my eyes. “Clever Dragon,” I murmur, trying but failing to hold back a grin of amusement as he uses my own words against me.
“Do not forget ‘strong and handsome,’ ” he quips, and I laugh softly.
I roll back onto my side, with my back to his front, nestling into his warmth.
A soft puff of air parts the hair on the back of my head as he scents me, and suddenly, I feel self-conscious about my smell. He pointed out that my clothes stink. Then there is the fact that he doesn’t particularly like humans to begin with. With his sensitive Dragon nose, he probably thinks I reek.
“Your scent,” he murmurs. “It is—”
“I know. I know,” I blow out an irritated breath. “You do not have to say anything. I know I probably smell bad.”
“You smell like spring.” His voice is a deep rumble that vibrates against my back.
“I—what?”
“You smell of lilac with a hint of jasmine…” His voice trails off as he skims the tip of his nose along my neck, sending a small shiver of pleasure down my spine, and I have the strangest urge to lean back into him. Fortunately, I catch myself before I do.
What in the seven hells is wrong with me?
“Stop sniffing me and go to sleep,” I grumble, making a show of fluffing the flattest pillow I’ve ever seen before lying back down again.
“I cannot rest,” he murmurs.
“Why not?”
“The Dwarves are snoring,” he grinds out.
I lift my head off the pillow, straining to hear, but I can’t make out any noise on the other side of the door. I frown. “I cannot hear anything.”
“My kind have exceptionally heightened senses compared to yours.”
I glance over my shoulder, pursing my lips.
“And they smell terrible.” He gives me a grim look. “I doubt I will get any rest this night.”
“Well, just close your eyes and try your best.”
I bite my bottom lip to stifle a laugh, but stop as he dips his nose to the curve of my neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply. “This close… your scent is almost able to completely mask theirs.”
“Wait a minute.” I frown. “So, that’s why you were sniffing my hair a moment ago? To try to cancel out the smell of the Dwarves?”
He nods, and heat floods my cheeks. I feel like such a fool. I thought for a moment that he was interested in me.
Awkward silence settles in the space between us before I clear my throat. “Well… there’s nothing we can do about the snoring or the… smell. Just try to ignore it. All right?”
Aurdyn sighs heavily. “Easier said than done.”
Despite my attempt to keep a straight face, a smile tugs at my lips, and he narrows his eyes. “You find my suffering amusing?”
“I hardly call it suffering, Aurdyn.”
“It is,” he insists.
