Page 74 of Ale Storm

“I should have foreseen it. I fear I’ve put you in danger.” Jildarin sighed. “Please see to the unloading of the kegs. I will change forms and go speak with her.”

“Just don’t mate with her,” Rylana said before thinking better of it. The warning she’d received from both Zilek and Jildarin’s sister came to mind, that it would be better for her longevity if she encouraged Jildarin to mate with the female dragons who wanted him to sire their hatchlings. They might even leave her alone to be Jildarin’s companion if he were to satisfy them first.

As Jildarin walked away, he looked back over his shoulder at her, his eyes again intense. “You are the one with whom I wish to mate.”

Rylana told herself to be wise, to retract her statement and say she wouldn’t mind if he joined with Loxvonla—with all the female dragons craving his essence, as Zilek had once called it. But as a breeze rifled through his hair and the streetlamps outlined his strong and handsome profile, she couldn’t utter the words.

“Good,” was what came out instead.

Jildarin smiled knowingly before disappearing into the night.

20

The next morning, no scintillating aromas wafted from the kitchen. Rylana looked all around the storeroom and the diner, but she knew in her gut even before checking that Jildarin hadn’t returned. He must have flown out of the city to find and speak with Loxvonla and…

And what? Had she lured him into a trap with her sister and attacked him? Or had they said something that had convinced him to mate with them?

Rylana found both scenarios distressing, but it was mostly thoughts of Jildarin, maimed and left to die on a rocky mountain ledge, that filled her mind. Since he was such a strong warrior, she told herself that was unlikely. She’d seen him successfully fight those sisters off—no, defeat them—before. He wouldn’t have lost in a battle against them.

At least not in a fair battle. What if the sisters and the other females he’d rejected had been so indignant and furious at seeing him with a lowly human that they’d banded together? As strong as he was, even Jildarin couldn’t fight off multiple dragons at once.

Distracted by her thoughts and without the knowledge to cook a worthy breakfast, Rylana put out a sign that the diner wouldn’t open until the lunch hour. Several customers who’d been lined up outside the door murmured in disappointment before wandering to the coffee shop. Rylana wondered if Sylin might be over there, but what could her elven friend do to help if Jildarin was way out in the forest somewhere, wounded or embroiled in a trap?

“Nothing,” Rylana murmured. And there wasn’t anything she could do either.

That didn’t keep her from looking longingly at her bow and quiver of arrows as she paced around the diner, agitated and worried. When she passed through the kitchen, she spotted a dwarven cookbook that Jildarin had left open, a rockball recipe selected. In an attempt to keep herself busy, she wrote down the ingredients and headed to the market. If nothing else, she could gather what he would need to prepare the dish. Not knowing if it was the one he intended to serve the king, she picked up other staples that he used frequently.

When Rylana returned to the diner, the front door was open. She’d locked it before leaving to make sure patrons who didn’t notice the sign wouldn’t wander in.

Several steps away, grocery bags draped over her arms, she paused with unease knotting her gut.

“It’s probably Zalani,” she told herself.

Their half-elf server was usually the first to arrive to work the breakfast service, and she had a key. Rylana nodded to herself and continued inside, but the knot of unease refused to loosen. Someone strode down the hallway toward her, and she halted. Killaynia.

“Good morning,” Rylana said, feigning cheer. “If you’re here for breakfast, I’m afraid my chef is missing.”

Jildarin’s sister gazed coolly at her. “Where is my brother?”

“You don’t know? He left last night to speak with a female dragon. Loxvonla, I believe.”

“I have been away from the area, hunting and contemplating a conversation I had with Zilek.”

“Did he suggest you would feel better about life and yourself if you mated frequently and vigorously? Either as a dragon or as a human?” Rylana pointed at Killaynia’s shape-shifted form, the grocery bag weighing down her arm. “I’m going to put these away, if you don’t mind. Jildarin will need the ingredients when he returns.”

She wouldn’t have explained the groceries at all, but Killaynia was blocking the way to the kitchen, and Rylana didn’t know her well enough to presume to brush past her. She did take a few steps in that direction and lift the bags to show her intent.

Killaynia’s eyes narrowed, but she stepped aside. “Zilek brought up recreational mating, yes. It occupies his mind a great deal. Jildarin and I believe he may have a biochemical imbalance that prompts such thoughts more frequently than in the minds of normal dragons.”

“Those female sisters seem to have mating thoughts pretty often.”

“Not recreational mating thoughts.” Killaynia followed Rylana into the kitchen. “They seek to bear young and have selected a suitable sire.”

“I think Zilek’s obsession with mating may have to do with the fact that so few female dragons want him to sire their young.” Rylana stepped into the pantry to put ingredients on the shelves. Being followed around by a dragon she barely knew and discussing mating felt surreal. At least Killaynia wasn’t threatening her.

In fact, she chuckled. The sound was so surprising that Rylana dropped a jar of stewed tomatoes on the floor. Fortunately, it didn’t break.

“That thought has occurred to me,” Killaynia said. “He is physically similar to Jildarin, but he didn’t seek out leadership roles during the war and didn’t fly into as many battles. Jildarin’s feats did not go unnoticed.”