Just start somewhere, and take it from there.
“Well, Warrior, I was thinking about this,” she said, and rose up on her tiptoes to kiss him. Their lips touched, clung, light as a feather caress. He did not pull away, or respond, but stood perfectly still, neither drawing back nor moving into an embrace.
But beneath her hands on his chest his heart beat fast. She deepened the kiss and felt the tension break as his arms came round her and lifted her off her feet, crushing her against him. His lips claimed hers, soul deep, then wandered to her hair, her eyelids, the curve of her chin.
“This isn’t really an answer to anything,” he murmured between kisses.
“But it’s an excellent question.”
The giant broke the moment. “If the two of you are quite done, you might wish to see this.”
Warm and sheltered in Zee’s arms and feeling like nothing could ever threaten her again, Vivian turned her head.
A solitary dragon had landed. He was small, not much bigger than a draft horse. His left wing drooped a little, as if something in it were broken, and black blood oozed from a tear in his side. He leaned his head against the stone of the closed Gates and gave a mournful cry that twisted Vivian’s heart.
All the softness left Zee’s body. She felt the change in his heartbeat, could feel the adrenaline burst harden his muscles. As his hand went to the hilt of his sword, she covered it with her own and looked up into his face, recoiling from the hate that shone in his eyes.
“He’s just a baby.”
“He’ll grow.”
The little dragon cried again, with a wail of absolute despair at being left behind. In response, Vivian felt a small spark of answering dragon in her belly and knew that her own dragon wasn’t quite dead after all.
“He’s hurt, Zee. And all alone.”
She saw the hatred in his eyes shift to loss and grief as he acknowledged once again all that she was. And then, as she was about to turn from him with a heart so heavy she feared it would break, he smiled. It was a flash of pure joy, utterly unexpected and all the more beautiful for that.
“You,” he said, and the love in his voice outweighed the pain in her heart. “If you found a wounded slime toad, you’d want to help it. I kill, you heal. Perhaps there is a balance after all.”
Once more she kissed him, then turned to what must be done.
The dragon hissed when she approached, but he was too young yet to flame. Reaching for the spark of dragon that had flickered briefly in response to his cry, she sent into his mind, You are not alone, little brother. I am here. She looked over her shoulder at the others and added, We are all here. And all will yet be well.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Kerry Schafer lives in the town of Colville, Washington, with her family, which includes two cats, a rescue fish, and a preternaturally large black dog. A self-styled perpetual student, she earned an RN from Royal Alexandra Hospital in Edmonton, Alberta; an Honours BA in English from York University in Toronto, Ontario; and an M.Ed. in counseling psychology from Washington State University. Visit her online at kerryschafer.com and facebook.com/KerrySchaferBooks.