A Meeting of the Lips
The dragon chooses a lifemate
Cedric lifted a carved pumpkin into place on the front step of the small house he shared with Brett. She sniffed it and blew out a sharp breath of distaste. He ruffled her ears and laughed. “It’s not for eating, girl. It’s meant to scare the evil spirits off.”
“Not me, I hope,” an amused voice said from behind Cedric, and he spun around to face Issain. The dragon was in their human male form today, tidy red beard framing soft curved lips below brilliant green eyes.
Brett danced over to Issain, ears perked and tail high. Issain smiled and stroked the wolf’s head between her ears.
Cedric stood up, wiping his hands on his stained trousers. “Are you a spirit then?”
Issain tilted their head to one side, lips curving even more. “In a sense. Dragons span the divide between mortal and spirit. It is why we can change shape. Our bodies are less corporeal than yours.”
“Well, I definitely don’t wish to scare you off. Quite the opposite.” Cedric gestured toward his front door. “I made a batch of apple cider yesterday. Would you like to try it?”
Issain’s eyes shone like a forest pond in the sun. “I would love to.”
Cedric followed the dragon and Brett into the house, glancing over his shoulder as he stepped over the threshold. The curtains in the house across the street jerked and Cedric closed his door firmly. If Harlow wanted to know about Cedric’s visitor, he could ask Cedric face to face.
Somehow Issain was simultaneously utterly out of place and thoroughly at ease in Cedric’s tiny house. The dragon wore a green gown that matched their eyes and shimmered as they moved, long fingers caressing the worn spines of Cedric’s books. “I thought you were ‘just a hunter’, dear Cedric. These volumes tell a different story.”
Cedric crossed the room to retrieve the cider from the icebox, colour rising to his cheeks. “I like adventure stories.”
“Hmmm.” Issain selected a book and slid it from the shelf, turning it over in their elegant hands. “I knew when we met that there were depths below the surface you show the world.” Green eyes caught Cedric’s gaze and held him. “I do look forward to learning you.”
Cedric poured the chilled cider into two flagons, taking an excuse to hide his face which was unaccountably warm.
Issain sat at Cedric’s table, in one of the chairs Cedric’s father had carved by hand. Brett immediately put her head in Issain’s lap and the dragon laughed softly, laid the book on the table, and began to stroke Brett’s ears with their other hand. Long dark nails dug into the wolf’s fur, and Brett sighed in perfect contentment, her eyes sliding closed.
Cedric sat across from Issain and put the flagons on the table, sliding one toward Issain. Slender fingers wrapped around the vessel and lifted it to those beautiful rose petal lips. Issain’s green eyes met Cedric’s over the rim and Cedric swallowed hard, unable to look away.
Issain closed their eyes and took a long drink, the muscles in their neck moving smoothly below skin the colour of the leaves drifting across the ground outside. Cedric tore his gaze away and lifted his own mug, the scent of apples and spice filling his nostrils and he tipped it up.
When he set his flagon back down, Cedric found Issain staring at him in the disconcertingly intense way they had, as if trying to read his thoughts. He tried not to squirm under those unnerving eyes.
Then Issain smiled and it was as if they were illuminated from within. The sharp planes of their face softened and their eyes transformed from green ice to deep forest pools.
Cedric looked down at Brett, head still in Issain’s lap, body leaning heavily against the dragon’s leg. And he understood, even envied, the wolf. If Issain wanted to run those delicate-seeming fingers through Cedric’s hair, he would gladly curl up in the dragon’s lap and stay there as long as Issain allowed him to do so.
“What tales of heroic exploits do you daydream of, Cedric?” Issain skated their fingertips over the leather cover of the book Cedric had forgotten still lay on the table. “Do you see yourself on a quest to save the world?”
“I like to read about journeys and feats of derring-do,” Cedric replied, turning his flagon around in his rough calloused hands. “But what I truly dream of for myself is love. Someone who will stay by my side through good times and bad. A partner and an ally.”
“That is a worthy dream, and one I share with you.” Issain’s gaze dropped to watch their fingers rubbing Brett’s ears. “Loneliness is a great burden.” They were silent for a moment, and Cedric said nothing, letting the quiet flow between them. Then Issain said, “There is to be a gathering of dragons. We meet every ten years. I have now reached an age at which I am expected to find a lifemate. If I don’t bring someone with me, they will push one on me at the gathering. I do not want this.”
“Oh.” Cedric leaned on his elbows on the table, frowning. The thought of Issain finding some other dragon to spend their life with disturbed him. “You don’t want a lifemate?”
“I do.” Issain stared at Brett, long nails drawing circles in her thick fur. “I simply don’t want anyone they would choose for me. There is someone I would choose for myself, but I do not know his heart.”
Cedric’s heart began to pound like it was trying to leap free of his chest. “Why don’t you ask him?”
Issain’s hand stilled on Brett’s head and she looked up and whined softly. “I do not know how to ask. You see, he is not a dragon, and I do not know human customs.”
With some effort, Cedric breathed through the sudden tightness in his chest. “Speaking as a human, it is acceptable to simply ask.”
Brett pushed her head into Issain’s hand and the dragon began to absently rub her ears again. “I am afraid that he will say no.”
“If he says no to you, then he is a fool.”
Issain stilled again, then raised their head, emerald eyes wide. Brett whined and thumped her tail on the floor. Cedric stared back at Issain, holding his breath. “Cedric,” Issain said softly, “I wish to ask you to be my lifemate, but I should first explain what that means.”
It was as if the world had tilted, then righted itself. Cedric had tried not to allow himself to hope that this was what Issain meant, that he was the one Issain wanted. He reached across the table and lifted Issain’s hand from the book. The dragon’s skin was soft and smooth against Cedric’s calloused fingers. “We humans have a custom we call marriage. Two people pledge themselves to one another, usually until death. It is a bond of love and companionship.”
Issain looked down at their joined hands. “It is quite like that, yes. Is that something you would wish to have with me?”
“Yes, I would.”
“Oh.” Issain’s voice was soft, then a smile spread across their elegant features and they looked back up to Cedric’s face. “Dragons have a custom that when lifemates choose one another, they confirm the agreement with a meeting of the lips.”
Cedric couldn’t help grinning. “We call that a kiss. And I would love to kiss you.”
Brett whimpered when Issain stood up, then she lay on the floor and rested her head on her paws. Cedric stood to meet Issain, his heart pounding.
Issain’s lips were as soft as they looked, like rose petals. They tasted of heat and spice, a sense of fire beneath their calm cool surface. Tiny electric sparks danced across Cedric’s skin, radiating out over his face from his lips, like fire in his nerves.
If Issain was an evil spirit, Cedric would go to the pit with joy in his heart.
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