My Dragon Master by Alisa Woods

Author:Alisa Woods [Woods, Alisa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Alisa Woods

I awake to the soft, thudding sound of something dragging across the floor. The kitchen floor, my mind blearily identifies as it races up to consciousness. What? I throw off the covers and race down the hall, through the sitting room, and careen into the kitchen only to come to a stumbling stop.

Daisy is eating breakfast.

She startles. “Oh! Good morning.” Then she stares. I’m standing, barefoot and disheveled, in just my sleep pants, on the kitchen threshold.

“I thought…” I stall out, not wanting to speak my fears aloud. That the Vardigah had come for her. I swallow and try to nonchalantly stride to the second chair of the table. “I’m surprised you’re up.” I take a seat, feeling slightly ridiculous—I’m half-dressed and still getting my bearings.

“I was hungry.” She takes in my bed-head and bare chest, then suddenly looks back to her food. It’s only the tiniest hint of attraction—virtually the only I’ve seen from her—but it raises a ridiculous amount of hope. Not to mention stirs my body in response.

“Is it good?” I reach for a wooden kabob of souvlaki and pull off a bite from one end. She’s watching me, so I enjoy the morsel with more obvious relish. “Mmm. Grace found the real thing for us.”

She nods and seems flushed. I return the skewer, and she digs into her food again, obviously trying not to meet my gaze or look at my half-naked body. My need for her wells up from deep within, everything tightening. I hadn’t expected to have to battle lust first thing in the morning, but here we are. Yet, I know it’s far too early to even play at this kind of game.

“I have something for you.” I get up and retrieve the flask of potion from the countertop. The kitchen is small but exquisite—marble and steel, hanging copper pots and herbs, modern appliances, but an Old World feel. I return to the table and set the clear glass bottle before her.

“What’s this?” Her eyes are bright. She seems healthier already, just from the rest.

“It’s a potion from the witch who paired us.” I wish I could pull back the last part of that, but it’s too late. “It’s for healing,” I add quickly.

She picks up the flask and examines it. “What’s in it?” The deep red color of the wine isn’t enough to disguise the odd bits and flakes of magic-knows-what floating inside.

“My blood, for one.”

“You want me to drink your blood?” Her nose wrinkles, but she uncorks the flask. Then it wrinkles even more.

“That’s where the magic comes from.” I plead with my eyes. “I know it’s awful. Alice said, It’ll be murder to get down.” I do my best impression of her Irish accent.

It makes Daisy smile, which unexpectedly squeezes my heart. I fiercely beat down all my hopeful expectations. For the love of magic, Akkan—a simple smile isn’t her falling in love with you.

“I’m already feeling better,” she offers, giving the flask a freshly dubious look.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah. And no dreams either.

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