Page 92 of The Death King

I knew Talon would tell him in the morning. I wanted Talon to sleep with me, but he got upset. Said he’s always respected my boundaries, and I’m doing a shitty job respecting his. I—I didn’t mean to make him feel that way.

Khazmuda didn’t speak for a while. Talon has his ways.

I just wish he would tell me why. He knows everything about me.

Not everything. Not how your paths have crossed. The question hung in the air, Khazmuda leaving it up to me to acknowledge it.

I decided not to. He knows everything about me…physically and romantically. I know we aren’t friends. We aren’t lovers. I’m not even sure what we are. But I thought we were close enough for him to share.

Talon can’t express his emotions the way you and I can.

Why?

Because he’s repressed them all. They’re locked up in a cage, and he’s thrown away the key. Even when he’s sitting still in a chair, his mind is chasing itself in an endless loop. He can’t outrun it, but he continues to try.

My heart suddenly gave a dull ache.

You feel for him.

I don’t know why I care for him, but I do. He only gives me threads of himself, and I’m desperate for the seam.

I told him to confide in you many times.

Why won’t he?

You relive any story that you tell—and it’s too hard to relive this one. It’s the reason he pushes on relentlessly, his entire purpose of being, but it’s also the very thing that makes him pray for death.

My heart gave another tug.

I told him he needs to share this with you. If he refuses, then I’ll take up this burden.

Why do you want me to know?

Khazmuda was quiet again. You’ll understand who he is—and care for him even more.

I woke up the next morning to a cold draft against my face.

Khazmuda removed his wing as my ceiling, and then sunlight and a chill swept into my warm den. I cringed as I woke up, never wanting the heat to disappear. Now, I would have to return to the land of cold and Talon’s even colder demeanor.

How’d you sleep, Pretty?

Great. I don’t want it to end.

Talon says we need to get moving.

Well, thanks for letting me stay with you. You kept me alive.

My pleasure, Pretty.

You can call me Calista.

I prefer Pretty. It suits you better.

A dragon made my cheeks blush. Well…thanks.

He bent his neck down and gave me a gentle rub of his cheek before he straightened and stepped away.

Who knew a bloodthirsty, fire-breathing dragon could be so affectionate. A lot more affectionate than the man he’d chosen to fuse with. I got up and rolled up my bed before I returned to the campsite.