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The ungrateful Dwarves both blink up at me, mouths gaping, and I wonder for a moment if they are both slower than I thought Dwarves to be.
I turn back to Freyja, arching a questioning brow. “There. Is that better?”
She rolls her eyes, and then pushes past me to the Dwarves. “Garvin, thank you so much for the rooms and for your hospitality. And Trian, we will take you to Vangarn.” She turns back to me, tipping her chin up as if in challenge.
“Fine.” A dark curl of smoke leaves my nostrils as I turn to the Healer. “Pack your things. We leave in five minutes. If you are not ready by then, we will take off without you.”
She rushes back to her room, and I’m surprised when I turn to Freyja and her lips curve up in a stunning smile. “Thank you, Arudyn.” She shakes her head softly. Now, was that so hard to be nice?”
“Dragons are not supposed to be nice,” I grumble. “Our mere presence is supposed to strike fear in our enemy’s heart.”
Freyja purses her lips. “Have you had your tea this morning?”
“What does that have to do with—”
“That’s what I thought,” she says. “Come on, my grumpy Dragon. Let’s ask Garvin to brew some for you before we leave.”
My first instinct is to protest that I am not… grumpy, but I stop because she called me hers, and I like the sound of that too much to argue my point. It seems that I am growing on her.
This is good. Perhaps after a few more days of my natural charm, she may become so attached she decides to stay with me, forgoing speaking with a priest about our bond.
CHAPTER27
FREYJA
Sure enough, tea is the answer. Aurdyn’s grouchy demeanor dissolves into his normally gruff manner, which between the two is the much more preferable side of him.
We walk outside and almost all of the Dwarves follow us out into the snow, probably fascinated to watch Aurdyn shift form.
He takes a few steps away from me and Trian and in a whirl of snow and wind, he transforms into a massive Dragon. I’ve seen him like this before, but I did not study him closely as I do now.
Flexing his large wings, the sails shimmer beneath the sun, but not as brilliantly as his gorgeous, silver-white scales. Great horns sweep back from his head and his fangs are as long as my forearm. He lowers his head, studying me a moment before he leans in. Warm air puffs across my head as he breathes deep. Gently, he rubs the left side of his jaw and then the right along my arms and shoulders, tickling me slightly. I laugh, playfully pushing at him. “What are you doing?”
“The Dwarves stink. I am masking their stench with your delicious scent.”His voice is a low rumble in my mind, and I inhale sharply.
“I heard you in my mind.”
“All Dragons can communicate in this way with their Fated Ones, in this form.”
Closing my eyes, I concentrate and think the words to him.“Can you hear me?”
“Yes,”he practically purrs in my mind.“I can.”
He rubs his chin along my shoulder, careful not to place too much pressure on me.“So… my scent is delicious now, is it?”
“It has always been this way,”he replies in my mind before speaking aloud. “You smell better than any human I have ever scented.”
I decide to tease him for the odd compliment. “Smelled many humans, have you?”
“Only the ones I have eaten.” His lips pull back, revealing two large rows of razor-sharp fangs in a feral grin as he jokes with me in return.
The Dwarves all jump back, eyes wide in terror, but they relax a bit when I start to laugh. “All right,” I gently chide. “Let us leave before you give everyone another fright.”
Aurdyn makes a low rumbling laugh and then gently picks me up in his front paw and Trian in the other.
He flaps his massive wings, the disturbed air nearly knocking over the Dwarves that have gathered around as he takes to the sky. The ground falls away beneath us with dizzying speed as he continues his ascent. Cold wind howls around his form, but he holds me tight to his chest, his warmth completely enveloping me.
It doesn’t take long to reach Vangarn. The Dwarf village sits on a series of plateaus on the mountain, all of them connected by carved stairways and stone bridges. The houses and buildings appear as though sculpted from the rockface. Gray smoke rises from the chimneys across the rooftops.
