Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 101379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Not that he had a problem with Sam.
Except sometimes talking to Sam made him a little homesick for a past that didn’t exist anymore, even after they woke up the remaining members of his clan.
But other than a little ache in his chest, Sam’s quick mind was a wonder to hear. The man had pieced together so much about their culture and civilization on just tiny shreds of information. There was more he couldn’t wait to tell him and show him, but that was only going to happen after they returned to the village.
Amaru released a heavy sigh, slapping his hands on his thighs. “That’s it. You were simply born to the wrong clan.”
“Wh-what? What are you talking about?” Sam stammered, his eyes lost behind the firelight dancing off his glasses.
Reaching out, he tapped the side of Sam’s head with one finger. “Your brain works like a Sousa brain. You should have been born into my clan.”
A shaky laugh tumbled from Sam’s lips and he shook his head. “From what you’ve told me, you’re all inventors and tinkerers. You’re mechanically inclined. I’m pretty sure I’d need Dimitri’s help to change a light bulb.”
“Pfft…nonsense. We’re all thinkers. Problem solvers. It just comes out as inventors.” He poked Sam’s slumped shoulder and grinned. “You’re a natural detective and thinker. You’re good at figuring things out.”
Dimitri leaned forward from where he sat on the other side of Sam, his arm wrapped possessively around his waist. “No offense, Amaru, but I’m glad Sam wasn’t born a member of the Sousa. He’s perfect exactly how he is, and I wouldn’t want to wait another second to have found him.”
Sam smiled softly and leaned in close to Dimitri to rest his head on the dragon’s chest.
Amaru rested his elbow on his knee and his chin on the palm of his hand. “What you’re saying is you’re glad your mate isn’t asleep under the lake right now,” he teased.
“Very glad,” Dimitri growled.
The murmur of conversation was shattered by an irate shriek. Amaru’s head jerked up and around, seeking the source of the noise. Ravi’s children were twins, a boy and a girl, and as expected of wind dragons, they were into absolutely everything at once. Even being only six months old didn’t stop them. They were a whirlwind of motion or dead asleep. There was no in between. In this moment, there seemed to be some kind of altercation going on as Haruto shoved his sister Asuka and she landed hard on her diapered bottom. The little one stared at her brother for a heartbeat and then opened her mouth in a wail worthy of a banshee.
“Haruto! You can’t push your sister!” Ravi chastised. “You must be nice to her.”
In the blink of an eye, the crying little girl shifted into her dragon form and took an angry snap at her brother’s chubby leg. Thankfully, Ravi was faster. He scooped the little boy up in one arm, pulling him out of Asuka’s reach.
“Asuka! No biting!” Ravi said, grabbing the little dragon by the tail before she could take flight.
“And I think that’s enough fun for one night,” Sora announced as he climbed to his feet. “We’re getting cranky. It’s bedtime.”
“Oh, that’s a shame.” Luka’s sweet voice invaded the circle and Amaru jolted upright. When had the other dragon joined them?
Amaru twisted around to see Luka approaching the fire carrying a large blue cooler with both hands. The dragon’s gaze darted over and locked with his for a moment, a half smile lifting one corner of his mouth, before he looked back to Sora.
“We have a surprise dessert for tonight—shaved ice.”
A happy cry went up among several of the other dragons and mages around the fire. Amaru grabbed Vasily’s arm and leaned close enough that his lips nearly touched the dragon’s ear. “What is shaved ice? How do you even shave ice? Why is your ice hairy?”
If Amaru hadn’t been holding on to him, the dragon would have fallen out of his folding chair with laughter. When he could catch his breath, he leaned back toward Amaru. “The ice isn’t hairy. It’s just a name for crushed ice covered in a sweet, flavored syrup.”
“Luka crushed ice for us?”
“Actually, Luka is one of the few dragons in the clan who can naturally make these tiny ice pellets that are perfect for shaved ice. Most of us can make snow or ice that covers things or blocks of ice. Luka is one of three or four dragons who can do the pellets.”
He turned his gaze back to the dragon in question to find him kneeling and carefully scooping ice into cups and cones before handing them off to dragons and mages to be covered in colorful liquids. Luka had the most ethereal smile, as if doing this little thing for his clan and the dragon babies made him so very happy. Happier than Amaru had ever seen him. For once, the fragility and shadows around his eyes were gone. This was the Luka he’d been trying to get to know for days now.