Page 19 of Forged Flight

I shrug. “No. I guess people know better than to rob the half-giant surrounded by swords.”

A quiet laugh slips from him. “That’s probably true.”

“Have you spoken to the police about it?” I ask.

Micah lets out a dry scoff. “King Castor’s loyal servicemen? No. That wouldn’t end well for me. The king and I don’t exactly…” He pauses. “See eye to eye.”

“No?”

“No.” He gives a humorless laugh. “I’ve spent years protecting animals—both wild and domesticated alike. Every time he’s tried to push the village farther into the sacred dragon peaks, I’ve been the first to stand against him.” His jaw tightens. “The ancient treaties exist for a reason, but all he sees is land to conquer. He’s never forgiven me for getting in his way.”

I’d heard about the king’s repeated attempts to seize the dragon-occupied mountains. He claimed it was necessary—that the economic prosperity of Thistle Grove depended upon it. Somehow, he believed building a ski resort atop the mountain would bring wealth and prosperity to the kingdom.

But no amount of riches was worth killing sacred creatures.

Our ancestors had forged a treaty with the dragons long before any of us were born. The mountains belonged to them, and that promise had been etched into ancient scrolls for generations.

Yet every time the king tried to push farther into dragon territory, Micah stood in his way, reminding him of the promises written into the treaty. I respected the hell out of him for that.

I give a slow nod. “I see.”

Silence settles between us, comfortable despite everything we’d just discussed.

I clear my throat. “I’m almost done with the prototype.”

“Really?” A delighted smile spreads across his lips. “That’s great!”

“I just need to pick up a little more leather to finish the last piece.”

“I can’t wait to see it.”

“So,” I ask, unable to hide my curiosity. “How’s Maple doing?”

“She’s wonderful! Growing like a weed, and she’s started teething.” He laughs softly. “She won’t stop chewing on the kennel bars.”

A grin tugs at the corner of my mouth.

“Actually, I’m moving her into my fenced back yard this week. She’s getting far too big to stay in the clinic.”

“Already?”

He nods. “Dragons grow fast.” His smile softens. “When you’ve finished the prosthetic prototype, come by my house. We can fit it there.”

I blink. “I don’t know where you live.”

He laughs, color rising to his cheeks. “Oh! Yes, of course.” He points farther down the road. “I live in a little cottage at the foot of the mountain, just outside the village. You’ll see a huge aspen tree by the path. Take the left fork there.”

The invitation catches me off guard. His home. That feels far more personal than meeting at the clinic.

And if I’m being honest… I don’t dislike the idea.

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Good.” He lifts the bottle of herbs. “I should get these back to the clinic. My patients are waiting.”

“Right.”

He offers a small smile. “I’ll see you later, Lucan. Just let me know when the wing prototype is ready.”