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Shit. Was that really my leopard? Or had I just gonecompletely mad? Was I now having mental conversations with myself?Miki?
Miki-Leopard. Not Mikaela-Leopard.
Okay, Miki-Leopard. Can we get down now, please?
Bad-Dragon. Smells different.Miki-Leopard leaned forward and sniffed first one wing, then the other.
This is Elliot. He’s a student at the Academy. He’s not our enemy. Lydrel Zowen is the Bad-Dragon who attacked us.Was this normal?
Mad-Dragon.
Yes.
I couldn’t believe I was having a conversation with my leopard. I knew that Kasi and Shadow, her shadow-kitten companion, talked all the time, but my dad had never mentioned doing the same with his leopard. He’d only evermentioned images.
Elliot shifted restlessly under us, reminding me that we were intruders upon his back.
Bad-Dragon,Miki-Leopard repeated.
He’s not here.
She let out a low growl.Bad-Dragon.
Miki-Leopard, he’s not here. This is Elliot. Not Bad-Dragon.
That’s when things went to hell.
Elliot must have decided he was tired of hosting a leopard on his back, so he shifted and I don’t mean positions.
I mean he went from huge dragon to human, which would have meant a really bad fall for us, except Miki did something.
I’m not sure what it was, but it felt like we just sort of scattered into atoms before reassembling a fewmoments later on the ground.
Bad-Dragon,Miki-Leopard growled as she barreled into the naked chest of the man I assumed was Elliot.
We fell in a heap, Elliot flat on his back, the wings that had stayed with him even in human form spread across the grass in an incredible display of powerful, masculine beauty.
We landed on top of him, front paws on his shoulders, crouched over him, face-to-face.
I couldn’t help but notice how epically hot this man was, wings, horns and all—way sexier than even Professor HDB.
Miki-Leopard growled low in her throat, a menacing sound that didn’t seem to faze Elliot at all.
Well, why would it? He was a freakingdragon, after all.
Still, he didn’t respond aggressively, which was a surprise, to say the least.
Instead, he raised a hand and carefully, slowly so that she could see it coming, set his fingers against her snout and gently stroked upward. He repeated that motion several times.
It took me a moment to realize exactly what was happening.
For goddess sake, he waspettingher.
Worse, she was actually enjoying it, leaning into the strokes. The growling sounds she’d been making transitioned into a low, throaty rumble that I swear sounded like purring.
Did leopards purr?
As if that one thought broke through to Miki-Leopard, she nudged his hand one final time, then leapt free.
