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Chapter 3: Pathetic males
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Chapter 5: His crisis
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... urse it does.
Roan strides into the clearing like he owns the ground he walks on—broad shoulders, thick arms, dark curls tied back at the nape of his neck. His eyes, warm brown and usually half-lidded with sleepy calm, are wide open now, sharp and focused.
On me.
"Zoryn?" he asks, like he needs confirmation his nose isn’t lying to him.
I huff. "Who else would it be? You know any other dragons with my charming personality?"
He stops in front of me, and for ...
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