The Lightning-Struck Heart (Tales From Verania 1) - Page 229

“You’re an odd one, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. Probably. Enough people tell me as much.”

“That’s not a bad thing.”

“Most times.”

“I’m sorry I tried to burn you and broke your ice spell and then knocked you through the side of a building.”

“It was a shed.”

“Still. I feel real bad about that.”

“Do you?”

“Sort of. You have to admit I looked pretty badass doing it, though.”

I groaned. “Yes. You crested the hill and your wings were billowing. I can’t billow anything.”

“You can billow me anytime you want,” Kevin said.

“Um,” I said. “Ew. And also, that didn’t make sense. But ew. Because of that thing you do with your tongue.”

“What thing?” he asked, flicking it at me again.

“Argh,” I said. “My life.”

He laughed and it faded into the night and we just sat there, the dragon and I, lost in our own thoughts. I tried not to think about Ryan, but it was an impossible task and one I wasn’t quite ready yet to accept. I wondered how long it would hurt for. I wondered how long it would take my heart to heal.

I thought about wishing on the stars for the pain to go away, but I couldn’t.

Not yet.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” Kevin said fiercely, breaking the silence.

I closed my eyes. “Yeah.”

“Gary told me. What a cornerstone was. He doesn’t deserve the title and he doesn’t deserve you.” He sounded resolute. More so than I could ever be.

“One day I’ll believe you,” I said.

I felt him curl his tail around me. I waited for the moment it would become inappropriate, but it never came. He curled it around me and pulled me closer. His skin and scales were hot to the touch. It almost felt safe. “And one day,” he said quietly, “maybe I could be there to tell you I told you so.”

They were hesitant, his words. As if he feared rejection. So I said, “Yeah. I think you could be.”

I could hear his smile. “Tell me about your city, then,” he said. “Are there people there who will make a cult for me?”

And so I spoke into the night, telling him of the City of Lockes. Of the streets and alleyways. Of the markets and the slums. Of a Good King. Of my kind parents. Of my brother-uncle-father Morgan. I fell asleep in the middle of describing the way the sun hit the castle walls and I dreamed of home.

“I CAN’T leave everything,” Kevin growled at me the next day. “This is all my stuff.”

“We can’t carry hundreds of pounds of gold and jewels,” I reminded him. “Or thousands of books. Or your completely random collection of forty-seven push brooms that I don’t even want to ask about. Kevin, I’ll be honest with you. I think you’ve got a problem.”

His eyes narrowed. “What problem?”

“You’re a hoarder.”

“Uh, no shit. I’m a dragon.”

Tags: T.J. Klune Tales From Verania Fantasy
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