Page 2 of The Dragon’s Good Girl

I expect the next one to come with illustrations and threats.

The heavy door to the sensory room is next. Its indicator light is dark, so I pass without stopping and nearly make it to the temperature room before a wave of humid heat rolls into the corridor.

Kiran has the thermostat set to ninety.

Naturally.

He's arranged himself across the heated platform, coils gleaming green and gold beneath the lights while he reads from a tablet propped against his tail. His tongue flicks once when I pause in the doorway.

"You know there are tropical resorts with lower ambient temperatures."

His gaze stays on the screen. "And yet you keep your bedroom at eighty."

"Seventy-eight."

"How restrained of you."

"Some of us appreciate being able to feel our fingers."

"You're a dragon."

"Exactly."

His tongue flicks again, which I've learned is Kiran's version of an eye roll.

I leave him to his sauna and keep walking.

Voices carry from the primal room before I reach it.

The door stands open, revealing considerably more wilderness than could possibly fit inside the mansion. Fae magic has its uses. Step across the threshold and the room unfolds into acres of dense forest, uneven ground, streams, rocky slopes, and enough places to run, hide, and be hunted to your heart's content. Gael can alter the terrain depending on the session.

Today, apparently, the problem is a log.

"It's a barrier," Grath says.

Everything Grath says reaches at least three rooms farther than necessary.

"It's a vault." Ronan crouches beside the fallen trunk, studying the distance to the other side. "She comes through here, hits the straightaway, gets enough speed and clears it. Easy."

"Or she catches a foot, breaks an ankle, and Gael spends the rest of the week explaining to us why magical liability waivers don't cover stupidity."

Ronan glances up at him. "You're assuming she trips."

"I'm assuming you're an idiot."

"I've cleared higher."

"That is not the reassurance you think it is."

Ronan gets to his feet and takes a few steps back, gaze fixed on the log.

Grath watches him. "Don't."

"I'm not doing anything."

"You're about to jump it."

"I'm looking at it."