Page 63 of Ale Storm

“I suppose if one keeps the lesser species happy, they’re less likely to rise up, band together, and hunt dragons.”

“Nobody who’s tasted Jildarin’s bacon or smoked eels will ever seek to slay him,” Rylana said.

Sylin put away her knife. “It’s true. After eating his food, even I experience feelings of warmth for him.”

“Really?” Zilek asked. “How fascinating.”

“Lesser species enjoy well-prepared food a great deal,” Rylana said.

“Well, that is not a pursuit that has interested me, but you are not the only one who’s implied that a male dragon in the prime of his life should perhaps do more than seek leisure. My aunt called me feckless, if you can imagine.”

“Puzzling,” Rylana said, relieved that the carriage was rolling through Boxwood Park outside the enclave. They would arrive soon.

Zilek smiled wryly at her. “As I recall, she delivered that particular insult when I refused to slay you.”

“That you endured such vitriol to spare my life honors me,” Rylana said.

“I believe you are being sarcastic.” Zilek looked to Sylin. For verification?

Sylin nodded.

“Jildarin would kick your ass if you tried to kill me,” Rylana said, though the words sounded a little presumptuous after they came out, especially since she was in Zilek’s carriage and many miles from Jildarin and the diner. Even though he appeared casual, with his arms spread on the backrest, he did emanate the power of a dragon. If he lost his temper, he could grow quite dangerous quite quickly.

But Zilek didn’t appear offended by her statement. “He bought you extravagant nesting furniture, and I have no doubt that he intends to join you in making use of it soon. Much more than my ass would be in danger if I harmed you. I believe if I even touched you, he might tear my head off my neck and toss it into the nearest active volcano. You are safe in my presence, crabby aunts regardless.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Rylana said.

“With no wars currently threatening dragonkind, I can’t seek to establish myself in battle at this time. Though I’ve noted with bemusement that the joint kingdoms are squabbling among each other in the South, doubtless because the lack of a common enemy has reminded them that they don’t like each other much.” Zilek flicked a dismissive hand and gazed out the window. “No hobbies call to me the way cooking does to my brother. I have been increasingly irked of late that so many female dragons are seeking him out. We are from the same clutch and nearly identical. Yes, he slew more enemies and won a few larger battles during the war, but I also distinguished myself. I slew more enemies than many other dragons.” Jaw tightening, Zilek’s gaze turned into a scowl as the carriage rolled toward the enclave’s arch.

Rylana didn’t say anything; Zilek sounded more like he was speaking to himself now.

“Is battle the only way a dragon distinguishes himself among his kind?” Sylin surprised her by asking.

“Battles and hunting. Some of my kin have gained notoriety by finding dangerous and rare magical prey and bringing back the meat for the clan to enjoy, especially females who are busy raising hatchlings. But everyone appreciates rare prey, which often tastes delicious. I do enjoy a good hunt.”

“You should leave promptly on one,” Sylin said.

“You say that because you seek to observe me distinguish myself?” Zilek asked. “Or because you want me to leave the city and not disturb you with more date requests?”

“I hear there are a lot of particularly rare and sumptuous prey in the Southern Hemisphere,” Sylin said. “Aren’t giant ice sloths and gleaming glacial mammoths only found at the South Pole?”

Zilek chuckled. “I believe this means you’d reject me if I asked if you wanted to come hunt such fare with me.”

“I would,” Sylin said.

“I’d allow you to ride on my back as I fly you across oceans and continents.”

“I’m not interested.”

“It’s pretty awe-inspiring,” Rylana admitted. “Riding on a dragon’s back.”

Sylin looked sourly at her.

“It is a great honor to those two-legs who are allowed to partake in flight with a dragon,” Zilek said to Sylin.

“She’s addicted to the coffee shop on Acorn Street,” Rylana said. “Otherwise, I’m sure she would enjoy going with you.”

Sylin slanted an even darker look at Rylana.