“Good dragon. Good, scaly fire-breather. You behave, I’ll give you a villager for tea.”
“Is that why they’re all scared of you then?”
Kett was so startled she stumbled as she turned, tripping and yanking hard on the chain to keep her balance. That sounded like Bael’s voice! Great, now she was hallucinating as well as horny.
Then she looked up, and there he was, coming over the rise with his eyes sparkling and his cheeks pink from the cold. Kett lost her balance and fell flat on her ass into the snow, and the chain went taut.
Fira, not happy at having her collar yanked sideways around her neck, gave a bellow-and when a dragon bellowed, fire usually followed.
It followed.
“Get down!” Kett screamed, scrambling to her feet and launching herself at Bael just as Fira sent a huge jet of fire over their heads. His body was hard beneath the layers of winter clothing he wore, and as he thudded to the ground she was pushed heavily against him by the force of the fall.
The heat of the dragon flame burned through her protective clothing. The stuff would stop her from turning into a crispy-fried Kett, but it didn’t stop her from feeling as if she’d been roasted alive. She curled into Bael’s body, tense and breathless until the dragon reared back with a cry.
Then she raised her head, and Bael was grinning at her.
“You fucking idiot!” she yelped. “You could have gotten us both killed!”
“It’s nice to see you too,” he said, cupping the back of her neck.
“What the fuck did you think you were doing?”
“You look really great in armor.” His fingers wiggled into the gap between her helmet and jerkin, and just for a second she shuddered at the feel of being touched by someone else.
Then she remembered who was doing the touching, and what a twat he’d just been. She catapulted to her feet, her skin so hot it felt sunburned, and clenched her fists to keep from kicking him.
Then she kicked him anyway.
“Ow! Look, we’re both okay, so what does it matter?”
Kett glanced back at the dragon, steaming with fury. He was right, her rational brain told her. He hadn’t done anything inherently dangerous-aside from walking into a freaking dragon paddock unprotected-and they were both okay. Although she’d kill for a roll in the snow right now.
It was just that she’d barely gotten over being mad at him for buggering off like that in the middle of the night, and then he turns up looking far cuter than any grown man in a bobble hat had a right to, and her hormones surged to the surface screaming more, more!
And that made her angry.
She focused on Fira, who was thrashing around, excited and heavy, arching her long, scaly neck and roaring fire at the sky.
Wait. Arching her neck? She wasn’t supposed to be able to move that much. The short chains on the collar should have-
Oh holy fuck.
“I already knew you were mildly insane,” Bael said, standing beside her and regarding the extremely large and only half-tethered dragon. “But I have to say, major respect for the dragon-working.” He frowned. “You know, if you wanted to keep it on the ground, you should have put, like, a collar on it or something.”
“I did,” Kett said, staring in mounting horror at the piece of broken metal and leather on the ground.
Bael followed her gaze. “Oh,” he said.
Slowly, methodically, Kett picked up the rope she’d had coiled over her shoulder. “You see that mountain?” she asked, jerking her head to the frozen peaks in the distance.
“Which one?”
“Pick one.”
“Uh, okay.”
“I am going to tranquilize this dragon. And then I’m going to go to the high paddock and saddle up another one. And then I’m going to put you on its back, fly it to the top of that mountain you just picked out and kick you off.”
Bael swallowed. “I’ll, er, I’ll just, uh-”
“Fuck off?”
“Yeah,” he said, and backed away.
Chapter Five
Bael retreated down the hill, not because he was scared of the dragon-well, okay, he was a bit-but because he was terrified of that glint in Kett’s eye. This was not precisely how he’d planned breaking the news to her. He’d figured he’d go in and compliment her on her hair, or her dragon-roping skills or something, and buy her a drink or two-there’d been a ramshackle pub in the tiny village he’d passed through, or maybe they could retire to wherever she lived-and sit with her by the fire and coax her to bed. Then after he’d had head-banging sex with her, he’d carefully introduce the subject.
He hadn’t really planned on nearly getting them both killed. Still, he lived on the edge.
He watched as she grabbed her leather bag and strode determinedly to the dragon, still tethered from four points on its harness. The creature watched her warily from one red eye. Kett unwound the rope from her shoulder and weighed it in her hands, never taking her eyes off the dragon. Bael peered closer, frowning. A lasso? She was going to lasso the dragon? With rope? She must be crazy. It’d be incinerated in seconds!
He started to move forward then stopped. Kett knew what she was doing. Surely she did. It was bravery, not insanity.
Maybe a little of both.
Kett and the dragon eyeballed each other awhile. The dragon snorted. Kett pulled her visor down over her face.
She stepped to the side, still watching the dragon. Damn, she had a sexy walk. He’d never noticed before because she’d either been running-and jiggling in much more interesting places-or limping. Her leg seemed to be better now, and she was moving with grace, like a predator. Careful and slow, each movement precise.
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad being mated to her.
He leaned against a rock, arms folded, and watched her work.
Moving smoothly the whole time, she distracted the dragon with the swinging lasso then flung a hunk of meat high in the air. When the dragon snapped its fearsome jaws on it, Kett whipped the rope around its muzzle, hauled its head down to the ground and leapt onto the back of its neck.
Bael closed his eyes, heart pounding. If it came to the worst, he could probably catch her when the dragon flung her off. Because it would fling her off.
He opened his eyes again, ready to move, and watched with his heart in his mouth as Kett rode the furious dragon as if it was a fairground ride.
A minute or two later-it felt like hours to Bael, whose heart was hammering-the dragon’s head sank to the ground. Its eyes were closing. She’d drugged the meat. Kett tapped its nose, got no reaction then rummaged in her bag again for a syringe, which she stuck inside the dragon’s nostril.
Then she hopped down, wincing just a little as her weight fell on her right leg, grabbed the broken collar and strode back to him.
Bael started breathing when she started walking. Hell, those long strides, strong shoulders, even her scowl turned him on. She ripped off her leather helmet as she approached, shaking out curls that were damp with sweat and flattened by the headgear, and shoved it at him.
“You,” she said. “Follow. Now.”
He grabbed the helmet and stumbled after her, powerless to resist.
She led him down the hill to a large stone barn. Tacked on the side of it was a smaller building with smoke coming from the stone chimney. The roof, Bael noticed, was tiled. With all those dragons around, he guessed it made sense not to build from wood and thatch. The walls seemed to be several feet thick, the door plated with steel.
Kett slammed the heavy door open as if it was made from cardboard and yelled, “Jarven!”
“Yeah?” a male voice called back, and Bael’s hackles instantly rose.
“Fira snapped her collar. We got any spares?”
A man emerged from the steep ladder to Bael’s right. Tall, his dark hair tied back with a leather thong, hard years etched into his face, he gave Bael an inscrutable look before gesturing back toward the barn. “Should have. What happened?”