Chapter 127

  I lay down and felt her cover me with furs and blankets. “Sleep well, princess. Sleep well Aurien,” she stroked my dragon’s side, fondly.

  I wanted to tell her not to touch him, but I bit the words back. I curled against Aurien’s side and stroked his scales, as if to remove her touch from his memory, to claim him back to me. He dropped his wing over me, and I wept in my nest of fur and dragon-scale.

  “F-k you Valsaurienkachelial.”

  I was woken by the venomous hiss, as was Aurien. My dragon uncurled from around my bed, his scales hissing against the stone paving as he repositioned himself, sitting catlike, his tail crossing his forepaws.

  “Daerton,” he murmured. “Out for another moonlight harvest and stumbled over some ale on your way?”

  “She told me about the prophecy from the Seers of Seigradh.”

  “Mmm,” the tone was heavy with dragon disinterest.