Page 26 of Foundling

Her lips twitched at his words, though not towards a smile. It was a long moment before she admitted, “Leita.”

Somehow, Attalus sensed that just as his name should have come with more, so too did Leita’s. There was much, much more to discover about this fae.

“Thank you for caring for me, Leita.”

She shrugged, gaze quickly turning to the fire. “I couldn’t let my…you die. Even if you are inconvenient.”

“Inconvenient,” he echoed with a laugh. “I’ve been called worse.” And he could work his way up from there, surely.

Attalus may not have chosen this—certainly didn’t understand how or why any of this had come to be—but he was, at least, adaptable. He wasn’t one to let opportunity slip him by.

He was here now, with his true mate, against all the odds, gods, and will of a king. Best to play the hand he was given; it was far too soon to fold.

No, he’d much to discover about this strange fae woman.

But, for now, as he watched her bite the head off a fish and rip away the meat from the spine in one swift move, he decided that his favorite female for now was the marten. Slinky at least took her chunk of meat politely, licking her paws clean after she did.

7

It was a good thing Ravenna was far away in Balmirra, surrounded by hulking orc guards, because Leita had serious designs on smothering her.

Your future holds so much. An azai. A child, she’d said.

Your future is set in flames, she’d said too.

Leita had yet to see Attalus breathe flame, but once healed, he was likely as capable as any other fit dragon.

Glancing up at him from under her lashes, she sighed to see the stupid grin still there. The man grinned entirely too much. Were she a badger or unicorn, she might’ve thought him showing all those teeth so often was a threat.

That no good, tricksy seer bitch, Leita grumbled to herself. Ravenna would be hearing about this.

In the meantime, Leita thought it prudent to continue helping the dragon heal. Not because she’d accepted he was her azai, nor that she cared at all what happened to him—no, she needed answers still, and the better he felt, the more determined he was to wag his tongue. Eventually, she hoped, he’d say something useful.

He talked a lot, it was true, although interestingly one thing he hadn’t admitted to was his status. Perhaps that was tactical on his part; perhaps he didn’t realize that more than just the dragons knew what it meant for them to have four horns.

Most dragons grew two, a set. Only dragons of the royal line grew four. It was a sign of their lineage and dominance. It was said that whoever became their leader, the anax, would grow a third set, no matter their age.

So Attalus here was really Attalus Princeps. Not just a dragon but a royal one.

And his crashing here wasn’t just a disaster, it was a diplomatic nightmare. She could already envision Tamerlan and Charis’s horror.

“Is it sore anywhere?” she asked, gently running the tip of a finger around the new flesh of his healing wound. She’d little experience in treating wounds; treating anything, in fact. Not since…

“The touch of my mate could only ever be a pleasure,” he purred.

Leita bit back her scoff. This lizard seemed to only know how to speak in superfluous flattery.

She considered giving him a vicious pinch, but Leita had a feeling he expected it. Gathering her patience, she sat back on her heels to consider him.

Those sharp golden eyes followed her. While his easy words and affable smiles would have her believe he was all pleasantries and niceness, those eyes were far too observant. Clear from the haze of fever, he noticed everything she did. To what purpose, exactly, she hadn’t determined yet. He couldn’t seriously think to woo her.

Yes, he threw the word mate around liberally, but surely he had to find this match as ridiculous as she did. A divine farce.

A divine test, more like.

“Where do you come from, Attalus?” she asked. Content with his progress, her magic began to reel back into her—although, it didn’t come as quickly as she’d like. Almost as though it wished to tarry with him.

“Where all dragons come from.” His grin grew to see her arch a brow. “When a mama dragon and a papa dragon—”