Page 79 of Dragon’s Ending

They scattered instantly, relief radiating off them so strongly I could practically taste it.

“We should get back,” I said to Ben as we dressed. If I was going to sort this out tomorrow, I’d need to figure out what the fuck I was going to say.

“So much for a nice, quiet flight,” he said, pulling his jumper over his head. “How much of a dent did you leave in that hillside, by the way? You hit it with some force.”

“If it didn’t want to be hit, it should have got out of the way,” I said, and found myself smiling at him. Dear Ben, always so steady and understated.

Except for when he’d thought he was protecting me earlier. Then, he’d been wild and fearsome, restraint something for other dragons. If he’d actually breathed fire, I thought I might have come on the spot. All at once, I wanted to get back to the house for an entirely different reason.

Unfortunately, that thought was swiftly superseded by another—I didn’t know when the four reprobates would be heading back, and if Rhodri was still up, I’d need to ensure they didn’t cross paths. Because if those four gave something away and Rhodri discovered what I’d been doing up here, the fights I’d organised, even the slim possibility of avoiding exile would be gone. My treasure would probably be forfeit as well. And that would kill me.

The thought sat heavy and cold in my gut all the way back to the house.

Thankfully, the place was in complete darkness. Everyone tucked up and asleep like good little dragons, no doubt.

Satisfied that disaster wasn't lurking behind any nearby doors after all, I headed for the stairs. By the time we reached my room, I was beginning to think I might actually get away with it. The thought should have been reassuring. Instead, it left me feeling vaguely uneasy.

I shut the bedroom door behind us and leaned against it for a moment. Ben was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching me with a look that suggested he was waiting for something.

“Fine,” I said. “Ask.”

“Fighting?”

I groaned, but there was no way out of this. Crossing the room, I dropped down beside him on the bed.

“Right,” I said. “Well. Welcome to the part where you discover your boyfriend may have accidentally founded an underground dragon fight club.”

The problem with explaining a terrible idea out loud was hearing it properly for the first time.

Ben stared at me. “Accidentally?”

“Yeah?” Even I wasn’t convinced by that.

“So that’s why you weren’t surprised by the fact they were fighting. But what was that about the Gruffydds?” He looked at me, and somewhere behind the horror was resignation. “Oh, God. Please don’t tell me you’ve set it up to fight another family.”

I shrugged. “Yeah, why not?” Then I held my hand up. “No, do not list all the reasons why not. But the point was, it just kind of happened. At first, anyway. Just me and Heath and his brothers, and it wasn’t—it wasn’t anything organised, or that could hurt anyone else.”

“It could hurt you,” he said.

I shrugged. Because that had kind of been the point of it. Which maybe wasn’t sounding quite so healthy right now.

“And did anyone get hurt?” he asked.

“I mean, I clawed Heath once, but it wasn’t on purpose. Other than a few bumps and bruises, not really.”

“Not really isn’t no,” he pointed out.

“Fine. Heath shredded one of my wings, but that’s all.”

The silence was somehow very loud.

“And there were a few cracked ribs, but by accident.”

“Dominic.”

“But nothing worse than that. We said from the start, no flaming. It’s the rule, just like only fighting one-on-one. God, I can’t believe what a bunch of fucking muppets they are.”

“You do have rules, then?”