Page 49 of Feathers and Scales

She nodded. “I would like to see the Archives.”

Keiran waved her to the right. “This way.”

She readjusted her duffel again before following Keiran. Daxton fought the need to grab it from her. He took up the rear, cursing himself as the twig of a woman walked, shoulders back, even when the weight pulled her to one side. Her sweet, citrusy scent laced the clean air. He would do anything to soak in it all day, just like he had done with the Florida sunshine she reminded him of.

By the time they reached the white cement pathway leading to the greenhouse, lines of regret marred her back. The extra weight of the duffel left its mark. Pride welled inside him as she continued without complaining.

She was quite the little package. Stubborn. Strong. Bitable. The last thought came from his dragon side, but he agreed.

At the greenhouse, she held the door open for him. Daxton placed his hand over hers. A shock of sensation sizzled into his mind like a pet down his dragon’s spine. She glanced back at him with wide eyes. Her throat bobbed. At least he wasn’t the only one affected. She removed her fingers from under his and walked into the building.

Small stepping-stones formed a path, while an array of grasses, shrubs, vines, and herbs from around the world covered everything else. Izzy inspected her surroundings, intelligent gaze absorbing everything. After taking the shortest path, they headed into the attached building. This time, Izzy didn’t keep her hand on the glass door. How disappointing.

Stepping out of the humid greenhouse and into the library left goose bumps on his skin. He inhaled the bitter scent of coffee. The foyer hadn’t changed in the past few years. The hutch with a full coffee bar invited caffeine addicts. A tall, oval desk stood in front of them.

Izzy’s mouth held a slight curve as her gaze wandered adoringly over the surrounding books. No doubt, she was calculating the number of pages and the time she’d spend in the museum-sized library. Through the link, the two-story building became more than a place for Daxton to beat his head against the wall—something he’d done many times when studying. To her, it existed to absorb, breathe, and eat up the knowledge of the world.

Heather, Pentros’s dragon librarian, peeked up from behind the main desk with “save me” eyes directed toward Daxton. He didn’t blame her. Mrs. Renly, the Warden, sat next to her, probably lecturingher.Keiran sure brought the cavalry.Though wherever the Archives traveled, Mrs. Renly would follow.

“Good morning, Keiran,” Mrs. Renly said. Her gaze skirted over Izzy with confusion before landing on Daxton. Fire scorched in those green depths as Mrs. Renly shot to her feet. And that was saying something for the seventy-year-old human—one of three living in the dragon capital.

“Daxton.” From Mrs. Renly’s lips, his name sounded like a curse. She moved her tiny, yet curvy body to the front of the desk. “What are you doing in the library?”

He gave her the smile he used to calm angry women. Her stance changed from curious to protective, similar to a dragon.

He chuckled. “Mrs. Renly, I see you haven’t forgotten me.”

She had a full head of gray hair instead of the peppering she had fifteen years earlier. A few more wrinkles hadn’t diminished her beautiful round cheeks and wide eyes.

“How could I forget you?” Her words pierced like sharp daggers. “You sent a corner of my library up in flames.”

Daxton hadn’t felt guilty about burning the library until bitter disappointment flittered through the link.

Izzy pinned him with a look as she stood across from him in the library foyer and asked, “And how did that happen?”

“This young man found it more appealing to burn pages of his business books than to study.” Mrs. Renly pointed her finger at Daxton. “He left the embers in a trash bin, which caught on fire and reached the curtain. Half a wall needed to be torn down.”

He rubbed his neck, recalling how he’d learned a woman’s wrath could make a man whimper. “I’ve grown up since then.”

She folded her arms. “I won’t believe that even when you have gray hair.”

Most dragons didn’t turn gray until well into their first millennium, so she condemned him for a long time.

“I think I saw a few this morning.” He winked at her.

Mrs. Renly’s face reddened, and her lips pursed.

Keiran rubbed his palm against his temple. “I’m remembering why I sent you off to your own territory. And I had hoped it would keep you out of trouble. Anyway, this is Izzy. Izzy, this is Olivia Renly. TheRenly family is the Wardens of the Archives. They and I each keep separate journals of the current events to keep our history accurate.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” Izzy offered her hand.

Mrs. Renly handled it as if it were porcelain.

“Izzy has complete access to the Archives,” Keiran said.

Mrs. Renly nodded and scrutinized Izzy as if their visitor might be her next downfall. “Where would you like to start?”

“Your oldest records and the ones pertaining to spirit linking among dragons.”