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“YOU ALL RIGHT?” VIGHOLF ASKED.
Rhona nodded. “The universe began to spin, so I decided to sit until it stopped.”
“Good plan.”
Since he didn’t know how long she’d need to sit, Vigholf sat beside her. He carefully took her raised finger and tucked it back into her fist.
“Thank you. I didn’t seem to have control of that talon.”
“Finger.”
“Whatever.” She smiled a little. “You can let go of my hand.”
“I could, but probably won’t. What with your universe spinning and all.”
“Any opportunity. You Lightnings take any opportunity.”
“There’s truth to that, I’m afraid.”
“You are, however, surprisingly light of touch.”
“Pardon?”
“The way you’re holding my hand. I always thought you’d be more of a mauler. Like a diseased wolf chewing the knuckles off me fist.”
“That’s very nice.”
“Not really.”
“I was being sarcastic.”
“Oh. I see.” Rhona gazed off for a moment, then asked, “Where are we?”
“Okay. That’s it. I’m taking you to bed . . .”
More from G. A. Aiken
DRAGON ACTUALLY
ABOUT A DRAGON
WHAT A DRAGON SHOULD KNOW
LAST DRAGON STANDING
And find her stories in this anthology
SUPERNATURAL
Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation
THE DRAGON WHO LOVED ME
G.A. AIKEN
ZEBRA BOOKS
KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.
http://www.kensingtonbooks.com
All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.
Table of Contents
“YOU ALL RIGHT?” VIGHOLF ASKED. Title Page Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Teaser chapter Copyright Page
Prologue
The girl slept. Not hard, though. She no longer slept hard—or without a weapon. Too many times there were attacks on their camp in the middle of the night. Too many times she’d found fellow soldiers trying to sneak into her bed, hoping to get out of her what they couldn’t afford to buy from the camp girls. Those who survived were usually sent back to their homes. Not because of what they’d done, but because the body parts they were now missing made it impossible to expect much out of them during battle.
Yet she’d never be able to say whether it was her light sleeping or her much-more-honed instincts that told her she needed to be awake and moving. Silently stepping past the other sleeping squires, she eased into the night and followed where her instincts led, to a copse of trees right outside the camp. That’s where she found her. The woman sneaking out of the camp without her guards, troops, or horse, carrying only one travel bag, her two swords strapped to her back. Going alone. Because she was brave. Because she was desperate. Because, on a good day, she was more than a little crazy.
Without saying a word, the girl ran back to her tent and grabbed her own travel pack, her own sword and battle-ax, her warmest boots and cape. She returned to the woman’s side, smiled.
“You didn’t think I’d let you go without me, did you? My place is by your
