Danyen was out in the garden, a shirtless show as he assembled the new raised beds.
At the kitchen door, Velvet yowled to be let out of the screen door.
Trudy went to open the door for her with a sigh, but Rikard, who had been assembling a marinade that already smelled amazing, beat her there.
The screen door opened without a squeak and as Velvet slipped outside, Rikard put an arm around Trudy, holding her close.
“Honey,” Trudy said with a laugh. “I think there’s a dragon in my garden.”
“Just as there should be,” Rikard said, sounding as deeply content as she felt.
Elva Birch is a writer of the impossible and irresistible. She is a fire dragon Gemini who bellydances barefoot, loves to listen to the rain on a metal roof, and enjoys Hot Tamales and dark chocolate caramels a little more than she should. For updates from Elva, please click here to join her mailing list.
The Dragon’s Choice
Zoe Chant
The day the dragon shifters came was a fateful moment for dragons and humans alike. For the humans, the magic and wisdom of the dragons promised to save them from endless cycles of famine and war. For the dragons, the humans provided a solution to a problem the dragons had believed was their doom: they could only mate with a pair of humans, and the humans on their own planet had died with it when its sun had gone nova.
And so the dragon shifters announced that any humans who wished to become their mates could present themselves to the dragons. The candidates must be young enough to bear or sire children, they must be brave and worthy, and they must be willing to give up their previous lives to live with their dragon. And just as it had been on the dragons’ original planet, the human mates would be forever loved and cherished by the dragon shifter who chose them.
But there were many humans, and few dragons. And so when the word was spread among the cities and towns and villages, it was said that only the very best of humans had a chance at becoming a dragon’s mate…
I was an idiot to come, Mirel thought gloomily. I don’t have a chance.
A crowd waited at the field that was the place of selection nearest to Mirel’s village. A crowd of beautiful, strong, healthy, and no doubt highly intelligent people in the prime of life. Every one of them was probably absolutely perfect from head to toe, though Mirel supposed she wouldn’t know for sure unless the dragons made them strip naked. She really hoped they wouldn’t, but no one knew exactly how the dragons would select their mates. But based on what she could see, which was plenty because most of the candidates had dressed to show off their oh-so-perfect bodies, there wasn’t a single scar, roll of fat, or even so much as a chipped tooth in the entire group.
Mirel stuck out like a sore thumb. Oh, she was smart enough. No one in her village had ever really doubted her intelligence, though they’d been quick to find fault with pretty much everything else. But other than that…
Though she’d sworn not to, she couldn’t help itemizing her flaws. Not to mention aspects of herself that she’d never thought of as flaws before, but now did in comparison with the perfection of the other candidates. Her hair, for instance. She’d always thought it was one of her better features. But it was brown, an ordinary brown, just like her skin and eyes.
Few others here had anything so common as brown hair. No, they had hair black as midnight or golden as sunshine. Their eyes were green as apples or blue as the sky, their skin black as ebony or white as cream. The cities and towns and villages had obviously selected the most striking among them in the hope of catching a dragon’s eye.
But being ordinary, even plain, wasn’t the worst of it. Mirel leaned on a pair of sturdy crutches because her legs were partly paralyzed, unable to take her full weight. She’d been born that way, and though she’d always done her share of work, it had mostly been the kind you could do sitting down. She was plump, too, which also made her stand out among the candidates, who tended toward the slim and athletic.
Her arms had begun to hurt from spending all that time standing upright and unmoving, which was not something she usually had much cause to do. If she plunked herself down on the ground, everyone would definitely mark her as lazy. Worse, if the dragons appeared before she stood up, they’d think she was lazy. Mirel gritted her teeth and stayed on her feet.
“Are you all right?” inquired a very deep voice.
She was so startled that she almost fell over. Then she couldn’t help staring at the speaker. Was he a candidate?
Oh, he wasn’t ugly. Exactly. Well, probably some people in her village would say he was, but they were the same ones who called her fat and lazy. Still, he certainly didn’t look anything like the other candidates.
He was very tall and very thin, with a fascinatingly bony face and a shock of black hair. As he reached out toward her, then hesitated before he could touch her, she saw that his hands too were long and thin. His fingers fluttered, graceful as a butterfly.
“You look like you’re in pain,” he went on. “Do you need to sit down?”
Everyone within earshot was eyeing them with either pity or ‘why are you even here?’ confusion. Mirel was used to that, and from the way the man was studiously ignoring them, she guessed that he was too.
“I don’t need to,” she began, then decided not to rebuff his kindness. It wasn’t as if she’d experienced much of that in her life. “But I’d like to. If you’ll join me.”
“Of course. My feet hurt too.” He sat down in a smooth, graceful motion, cross-legged on the carpet of grass and wildflowers.
Mirel eased herself to the ground, far less gracefully, set aside her crutches, and used her hands to lift her legs into a comfortable position. She was used to people staring when she did that, but he didn’t.
“My name is Rami,” he said, offering his hand.
She shook it. His hand was pleasantly warm as it engulfed hers, and a little tingle of attraction went through her at his touch. “I’m Mirel. I suppose you’re wondering what I’m doing here.”