Ask a dragon, and she will tell you to discover it on your own.” All talk ceased the moment Fiona entered the hall. She moved slowly in their direction, her head held high. Her eyes scanned the area and landed smack on him, and he held her gaze. She was a goddess in a flowing gown of pale green and gold, and he was bewitched. He wanted her to leave and put back on her old clothing. She gave him a slight smile, and he fought the urge to rush forward and claim her hand for a kiss. Instead, Alastair’s fist clenched the mug he held, his knuckles turning white. His eyes followed her movement as she made her way to the chair, sitting next to Niall. When she glanced his way, he noticed how her long, dark lashes framed her eyes. “Is anything wrong?” she asked him, batting her lovely eyes, most likely unaware of the effect she had on him. “Nae,” he croaked. “Oh,” she said, as her lips formed a slight pout. By the Gods, he wanted to drag her across the table and feast on her. Quickly averting his gaze, Alastair drained his mug, and his hand shook when he grabbed the jug to pour some more.
