Chapter 11

eleven

ZAKARION

When I fly back to my mountain, I face a whirlwind of cleaning. It’s been more than a hundred years since I gave this place a decent once-over, and there are many tunnels, some clogged with truly embarrassing things—a few deer bones, shed scales, and dirt I’ve dragged in with me. I sweep every last crevice, even ones I doubt Sammy will see, and dust off everything in the Museum.

I’m definitely going to show her the Museum.

I want to impress Sammy with my mountain home, though I couldn’t say why. It’s not as if she would live here with me while she’s carrying my hatchling. That does sound lovely, and I think she would like how remote it is.

Though perhaps she wouldn’t like not having her car.

Still, none of these are things I can entertain. As much as I would love to hunt for her, to cook her fresh meat covered in herbs and roasted by my fire, that’s not what this is. It would be foolish of me to get attached to a human, only to watch her age and die .

Trying not to think of such sad things, I address my hoard. It’s also a mess, and I clean almost everything, sure to remove any bones and remnants of my laziness. I move my nicest jewels to the top of the hoard, and pat it when I’m done.

At last, it’s time to bring Sammy here.

I fly quickly back to the city, excited to see her again after so much time apart. But if this works, as she suspects it will, this may be the last time I see her for some time—and the last time I get to enjoy her wonderful body.

I hope she will be amenable to my suggestion that we continue to meet regularly so I can check on the hatchling’s growth and her well-being. I want to provide what I can for her, whether it’s simply emotional support. I owe her far, far more than that, but I don’t know what else I can offer her.

When I land on Sammy’s front lawn, the weather is chillier than the last time I was here. Fall is in full swing, and the trees are starting to change color. It’s beautiful at her home with the yellow autumn leaves all about, and I breathe in the smell before walking to her front door to knock.

Before I can tap it once with my knuckle, the door flies open, and Sammy is standing there with her plump cheeks and bright eyes.

Most unexpectedly, she throws her arms around me, hands winding up my neck. I catch her, and squeeze her back, pleased to have her body so close to mine again. This time I did not make the mistake of leaving my needs unattended. Every time I thought of her, my cocks extruded and I took care of business, and still generated plenty of seed. I should have no trouble planting a hatchling in her tonight if her guess about the location of my mountain is correct.

“Sorry,” Sammy says, extricating herself from me. She quickly backs away, putting space between us. “I’m just happy to see you.”

I offer her a big smile. “No need to apologize. I’m pleased to see you again, as well.”

Rather than smiling in return, she frowns, and I wonder if I’ve said something wrong.

“Shall we?” she asks in a more neutral tone. Right. Emotional distance. She wants to be wary of crossing lines, and we likely already crossed one just now.

I nod. “Can I carry you? On my back? That will be easiest, I think.”

This time she does grin widely. “I was so hoping you’d suggest that.”

I stoop down low so she can climb on, and I scoop her up by her behind so I can heft her onto my shoulders more comfortably. She clings onto my neck, and though I can’t see her face, I can imagine her surprise as my wings flap and I lift off into the air.

It’s much harder to fly with the extra weight, but I’m able to do it. She shrieks as we rise high above her house, and I worry she’s frightened of heights.

“Amazing!” she cries. “It’s beautiful up here!”

I’m elated that she likes it.

“Wait until you see my home,” I tell her, and I start off in the direction of my mountain.

SAMMY

We fly and fly, heading north, and I wish I’d brought more than just a sweater. It’s frigid up here at this altitude, and I have to lean down close to Zakarion and wrap my arms around his neck just to stay close to his body. He’s so warm underneath me, his scales smooth and strangely soft, that I just want to hold onto him forever.

I watch the country become city, and then the city fades into the suburbs, until we’re passing over wide patches of farmland. Even that eventually gives way to vast wilderness, open meadows and dense trees.

We’re flying over a mountain range, and I’m getting sleepy when I hear Zak finally say, “We’re here.”

I sit up as he starts to descend, winding downward in circles like a bird of prey. Below us is a massive peak, higher than all the neighboring ones by a long shot. There’s snow decorating the exposed rock like icing on a cake. Zak flaps a few more times before there’s a loud thump , and I peek over his shoulder to find us standing on a high, high ledge.

I squeak and cling onto him tighter when I see how close we are to the cliffside, and how far down I could fall if I took one wrong step. Zakarion chuckles, and puts his hands underneath me to keep me on his shoulders. His wings retract, folding up along his back to either side of me, and then he steps into shadow.

A torch is lit on the closest wall, revealing a long, stone tunnel. Once we’re safely inside and no longer standing on the exposed rock face, I whisper in his ear, “I think I can walk now.”

Zak nods and helps me down off his back, setting me down neatly on the floor. It is, bizarrely, much warmer in here than outside, when it should be just as cold .

“Where’s that heat coming from?” I ask.

Zakarion tilts his head down and smirks. “There is hot water running throughout the mountain. We have diverted it to keep all of the halls and rooms warm.” He stoops down and puts an arm around my shoulders. “Come. I have much to show you.”

I’m disappointed when he steps away again and leads me down the hall. We pass more torches, and then as the hall curves, a great space opens up ahead of us.

It’s gold. The whole room is pure, shining gold. Torches reflect off of the surface of piles and piles of objects, most of them glimmering yellow but some silver, and the light bounces every which way to illuminate the walls.

I can’t even utter a “wow.” My voice is caught in my throat as I take in the sprawling space, filled with a pile of jewels and riches of all kinds. It’s a veritable sea of ancient beauty.

“This is amazing,” I finally say, taking another step inside. Zakarion is watching with a wide grin on his face, showing every last one of his huge fangs. “This is yours? What you’ve collected over the years?”

“Oh, not just mine,” he says, reaching down to pick up a ring lying in the middle of the floor. He blows on it, then rubs it against his chest before tossing it into the pile. “My parents contributed, and my mother’s parents before her, and... well, you get the idea.”

Many millennia of wealth, all gathered here. I can’t fathom how much it’s worth.

“Do all dragons have hoards like yours?” I ask.

“I don’t really know. I haven’t interacted with many others of my kind.”

I’m baffled by it. “But with all this, you couldn’t afford DreamTogether anymore?”

Zak’s shoulders curl up to his neck. “Well...” he begins, casting a worried look around the room, anywhere but me. “There was this imp. He was my connection. Then, somehow, he was discovered selling something of mine, and now...” He gazes mournfully down at his hoard. “I cannot sell anything else. I’ve even been told that all of this—” He gestures around the room. “—isn’t mine. That I should return it to where it came from.”

I frown. “Who told you this?”

“The government.” He scratches his nose. “Something about items of cultural significance?”

Oh. Then it dawns on me. What he has here truly are remnants of another time, beautiful and important artifacts that tell the history of many places and people.

I kneel down and pick up a small gold crown.

“Belonged to a prince,” Zakarion says, nodding at it. “I believe from the year 1230.”

Turning it over in my hands, I wonder who that prince was. “Do you know the history of everything here?” I ask, returning it gently to the pile when I see how protectively he’s hovering over me.

“Of course.” He arches an eyebrow. “Don’t you know the origin of everything in your home?”

“Yes, but I don’t own as much as you do.”

Zakarion looks out over his hoard. “But every piece is valuable, every piece has a memory. It’s up to me to retain those memories, to preserve the history of my father and mother and their parents before them.”

I follow his gaze. “And each of them has their own history, too. I wonder how much scholars could learn just from this one crown?”

Zakarion blinks like he never even thought about it.

“Hmm.” He scratches his chin. Then, with a brief shake of his head, he gestures with one hand for me to follow him. “ There’s much more to see, and we don’t have a lot of time until the sun is fully down.”

Right. We’re here for a reason.

Zak leads me out of his treasure room to another hallway, which descends downward at a steady pace. It grows narrower as we pass, and I want to reach out and hold onto his tail in case we get separated down here.

Then we emerge into another room, not as large as the last one, with lower ceilings. Wooden cases with glass faces rim the walls. Zakarion retrieves a torch and carries it to the first case, the flame shining across the display.

“What is this place?” I ask as Zak hands me another torch. I almost drop it because I’ve never held fire on a stick this close to my face before.

“The Museum.” Inside the case rests a curl of stone with a snake’s head at the tip. “This is Medusa’s hair,” he says.

I gasp. “Medusa’s actual hair?”

Zak just nods, and I have no reason not to believe him.

He shows me everything in the Museum, all sorts of treasures dating back thousands of years. There’s so much history, so many pieces of time preserved here.

“Did your parents acquire these?” I ask.

He nods toward a painting on the opposite wall. “My mother purchased that before she died,” he says. “She appreciated art, and met the painter personally.”

“I’m so sorry about your mother,” I say. “What happened to her? If I can ask?”

Zakarion’s eyes wander away from mine and travel aimlessly upward, as if he is remembering something long past.

“A disease,” he finally says. “It is what took many of the dragons of her age, when we were already few and far between. It stained her scales gray, until finally it took her life.”

Zakarion’s shoulders curl forward, and I reach out to stroke his back. “I’m so sorry.”

He shakes his head. “I have had time to grieve, and my pain is much smaller now than it used to be. But it’s still there. Losing her was miserable, but when my father grew heartsick...” He closes his eyes. “It wasn’t long after that when he passed away, too. As is the way with dragons.”

I stare at him. “That’s common?”

He nods, clearly lost in his memories. “Yes. Dragons bond deeply, in our souls. When one of the pair dies, the other typically follows soon after.”

The steady thrum of my heartbeat speeds up, growing louder in my ears. Now I know with complete certainty that what I feel for Zakarion is doomed. There can never be anything between us. If ever he reciprocated, if we tried to have a relationship beyond this hatchling, I would be sentencing him to an early death.

A shudder runs down my back. I couldn’t do that to him. Not ever.

I’m quieter as he shows me the rest of his collection, then Zakarion treks on to a series of smaller rooms. As we walk and explore, I try to push the ugly thought out of my mind. We have an agreement for just this reason. Avoiding a romantic entanglement is simpler, and much safer for Zak.

The rooms down below are cozy, and they must be his living quarters. The main room has a fire pit and a hole carved into the ceiling that brings in fresh light. An adjoining room is full of animal pelts and embroidered throw pillows. Here, Zak clears his throat, then pulls the curtain closed over the room again after showing it to me.

Oh. That must be his bedroom. It looks so warm and soft, I’m disappointed when we walk away. As we return the way we came, I can’t help but think about how comfortable and lovely that big nest would be to sleep in.

Soon, though, we emerge into the treasure room again. I can see outside the cave from here, and the evening light is quickly fading, leaving a periwinkle horizon in its wake.

Zakarion walks up beside me, and ever-so-slightly brushes his claws over my hip.

“Are you ready?” he asks, bringing his long neck down so his snout is very close to my ear. “After tonight, you’ll be growing my hatchling inside you.” His hand lands on my back and curls around my hip, until his palm is up against my belly. I’m wracked by a full-body shiver.

“Yes.” My breath is already coming faster as his hand splays out across my stomach, and he shifts himself to stand directly behind me. “It will grow right here.” I cover his huge hand with my tiny one. His other hand cups one of my breasts, and then he slides a claw over the tip of a nipple, through my shirt. I gasp as he ducks lower, tracing his hand down toward my ass, his hot breath brushing the shell of my ear.

“And which cock will be so lucky,” he says in a low, rumbling voice, “as to plant it?”

I imagine both of those thick, swollen things inside me, and a gasp escapes my lips. My hips roll back of their own accord, so my ass is pressed up against his belly.

He huffs into my ear again. “Take off your pants.” I’m so surprised by the command in his voice that it takes a moment for my fingers to obey, plucking open the buttons of my jeans. He hooks a claw in the band and helps me pull them down, along with my shoes and underwear. Soon I’m standing naked in front of him, and both of his cocks are now unsheathed, visibly swollen and spilling over .

Zakarion reaches underneath me and scoops me up by the butt. I squeak and grip tight around his neck, which makes him let out that deep, rumbling sound of pleasure.

“I think I will take you with one at a time,” he says, the tips of his claws digging into my ass. “And let both of them have a taste of you.”