The Last Moon Dragon – 3/9

The weeks passed more quickly than Lyra realized. Before she knew it, it had been a long time since she'd thought about running away or dreamed of finding another path. In some strange way, being by Kaelthys's side had become the best adventure of her life, even without gold, castles, or wild parties.

The dragon, always grumbling, was now almost part of the scenery. Almost.

The world was still broken, the nights cold, and the days full of ridiculous dangers. But with Kaelthys there, even foraging for mushrooms felt important. Lyra had learned to like the routine: waking up to a dragon tail thumping the tent, sharing stale bread for breakfast, listening to the big guy's terrible jokes, chatting about anything and everything, and, when she got brave enough, climbing onto his back to fly and see the world from above.

On one of those flights, Lyra felt a new sensation, a mix of chills and anxiety. The cold wind hit her face, but the warmth of Kaelthys's scales heated her thighs. For a moment, she forgot about monsters, forgot about her past, she just thought about how it would be if the dragon knew what she felt right there, clinging to him, feeling every muscle on his back move under her hands. And if he noticed, would he find it funny, or be offended?

Kaelthys, as always, seemed only worried about finding food. He landed slowly, touching down in a valley surrounded by flowers and colorful fungi.

"Alright, your flying princess. Want me to toss flower petals too, or is a strong coffee enough?"

Lyra jumped down, dusting off her pants. "Stop complaining, you winged lizard. You're lucky I'm such good company."

He laughed, blowing a small cloud of smoke. "Noisy company, you mean. But I'll admit, it's less boring with someone around. Just don't get cocky, human."

They'd developed their own style of communication, full of nicknames, teasing, and affectionate jabs. Lyra caught herself watching Kaelthys when he wasn't looking. She wondered how someone so huge could be so careful when landing, or so gentle about not crushing a bird's nest. She noticed the way his scales reflected the light, the scars from old battles across his body, and the deep rumble of his breathing when he napped.

Sometimes, she caught herself imagining what it would be like to touch every inch of him, sliding her fingers over his scales until she felt the temperature rise. The thought made her bite her lip, half embarrassed, half amused by her own boldness.

One night, after an improvised dinner—fish roasted by Kaelthys, dry bread by Lyra—they lay looking at the stars. The silence was comfortable, full of promises and unspoken little tensions.

"Kaelthys, have you ever wanted to… I don't know… try turning human?" Lyra asked, faking disinterest.

The dragon chuckled softly, swishing his tail. "What for? To wear tight clothes and pay taxes? No thanks. I like my wings and my fire-breathing tongue."

She laughed too, but kept wondering what it would be like if he were human. Would he be as strong as a dragon? Would he still smell so good?

She caught herself imagining if Kaelthys, as a man, would have a mischievous smile, a gaze that would make her legs weak, or hands big enough to leave her breathless. She almost spaced out, only coming back when the dragon huffed, sending smoke into the air.

"You thinking dirty thoughts, Lyra? You've got that face again, like you saw a naked fairy."

She blushed, but pretended to be offended. "I'm just thinking how lucky I am not to be alone. And you should thank me every day, you grumpy dragon."

In the days that followed, every detail seemed to take on meaning. When Kaelthys carried her, Lyra let her fingers wander longer than she should over his warm scales. She found excuses to lean against him, to set up her tent near his head, to sleep listening to his heart beating strong.

One morning, washing her face in the river, Lyra stared at her reflection in the water. Messy hair, a crooked smile, her body marked by scratches and bruises from so many tumbles and fights. But her eyes… they were different. There was a glint, a hunger, an anxiety, a need that had nothing to do with bread or cheese.

She imagined her mouth pressed against his scales, her fingers finding secret places between silver plates, her tongue playing over some old scar.

Her cheeks flushed with heat, and she felt like laughing alone. She was in love, desiring a dragon, and didn't even know when it had started.

Kaelthys appeared suddenly, shaking his wet head and spraying her with water on purpose.

"You gonna stare at yourself all day, or remember the world's falling apart out here?"

Lyra reacted quickly, tossing a handful of water at him, trying to play it cool.

"Some of us like being clean, you know? Or do dragons never bathe?"

He looked at her, feigning indignation. "Dragons smell like adventure, don't need perfume. But you… keep smelling like flowers, and you'll attract perverted goblins."

They laughed together, Lyra's heart racing again. The dragon's touch was casual, but in her mind, it all became fantasy.

She thought of hot nights, of imagined kisses, of a strong body wrapped around hers—even if she had no idea how it would actually be.

That afternoon, they went to explore a cave. Inside, Lyra let her imagination run wild: she pictured Kaelthys pinning her against the wall, his hot breath on her neck, his eyes glowing in the shadows. She almost tripped on a rock, lost in her daydream.

"Careful, disaster princess," Kaelthys grumbled. "If you fall, I'm not carrying you."

She winked, smiling with all kinds of hidden meaning, but kept her secret to herself.

At night, Lyra lay listening to the strong rhythm of the dragon's heart, thinking about everything she wanted to do, but didn't have the courage to confess. Not yet.

As the moon rose in the sky, she let herself dream, and if anyone saw the smile on her face, they'd know there was much more than friendship there. There was longing, pure desire, and the hope that, maybe, one day, the dragon would notice.