From time to time, a dragon he knew trumpeted, and he greeted them in return. If it weren’t for the lass, their mate, he’d be just as happy remaining in a familiar world. One where he wasn’t the only dragon outside Fire Mountain. Maggie complicated everything, yet he didn’t begrudge Lachlan for including her in their bond. In his own way, he felt her absence fiercely. He needed to talk with other dragons, older kin who’d been alive for millennia. They might know a way to find the lass. She’d ridden him; it cemented his commitment to her, plus she bore his mating bite. Kheladin focused his gaze at the thick canopy below. They’d actually come out leagues from Clan Moncrieffe’s castle, but his powerful wing beats shaved the remaining distance quickly. “At least the castle will still be standing,” Lachlan commented. “Unless it is before 1300, and it wasna yet built.” “Ever the optimist, aren’t you?” Lachlan sank into thoughts of how to get back to Maggie. About the only avenue was to throw himself on the Celtic gods’ mercy.
What do You think about To Love A Highland Dragon?
