On the Accidental Wings of Dragons (Dragons of Eternity Book 1) by Julie Wetzel Page B

“But, will it be enough?”
    Carissa looked at the little dragon. He was studying her with confused eyes. “He’s in there.” God, she hoped he was in there. “Just give him a little time. He just woke up.” She reached out and rubbed his cheek.
    Michael closed his eyes and leaned into her touch.
    She didn’t want to think about what she would have to do if he weren’t home anymore.
    Darien nodded at her. “As you wish, My Lady.”
    Great, there was that executioner again.
    “How about if I get you both some food?” Not waiting for an answer, Darien turned back to ladle the stew into bowls.
    Carissa wrapped her hands around Michael and drew him closer. “Darien’s bringing food.” She spoke softly to him, praying he understood her. “Just stay calm. We’ll get through this together.”
    The little dragon cocked his head, processing her words. Slowly, he nodded his head.
    Yes! He understood her. Carissa wanted to snatch him up and dance around the room, but she settled for rubbing her thumbs along his sides. Questions floated in his eyes. They were much clearer then they had been. “I know you have questions,” that had to be the understatement of the century, “but, let’s get food first. Then we’ll see about getting you back to human form to ask them.”
    Michael nodded more quickly this time.
    Thank you, God. Things might actually work out.
    “I would suggest you both sleep before he tries to shift.” Darien set two bowls and a plate of stew on the table. “You’re both exhausted. He would have a much better chance of reaching human form if he were fully rested.”
    Michael rumbled a little at the man’s voice.
    Carissa caressed him reassuringly. “True,” she agreed. Darien did have a valid point. She looked down at the little dragon between her hands. “Food first, then a nap. And I promise that we’ll get you back to human when we wake back up.”
    Michael considered her for a moment before nodding his agreement.
    Great! She could really use a nap. Maybe after a nice nap, he might be able to forgive her for ruining his life.

 
    7
     
    Friend. The musky-smelling man was a friend. Michael shook his head; his brain wasn’t working right. Darien. Mine! had called him Darien. No, that wasn’t right, either. Her name was Carissa. She was important, but how? God, if she would just stop rubbing him, he might be able to think. Oh, but it felt so good.
    Food. She mentioned food. The smell of cooked meat hit him like a Mack truck. Now he remembered—it had been the smell of food that had woken him up. Turning around in Carissa’s hands, he saw the musky smelling man… A growl rose in Michael’s throat, but he caught it. No. Darien. Friend.
    Darien pushed a plate of chunks towards him.
    “It’s okay, Michael. Eat.” Mine! patted him… Wait, that wasn’t right. Carissa. Carissa patted him on his sides.
    God, he wanted to eat that. It looked so good. Michael turned his eyes back for reassurance. He wanted to eat, but he didn’t trust the musky man… no, Darien. Mine! … no, Carissa nodded encouragingly. He inched towards the plate cautiously. Brown, orange, and white in brown stuff. The savory smell made his mouth water.
    Snatching up a hunk of meat, he backpedaled to the edge of the table in front of Mine! . He had to protect her from that man. No, wait. Carissa didn’t need protecting. Darien was a friend. She trusted him. Michael could smell that she trusted him. Oh, this whole thing was confusing. Michael tried to chew the oversized hunk of meat. It didn’t work. He dropped it to the table to rip off a smaller bit.
    “Here, let me help you.” Mine! … no, Carissa. Carissa drew the plate closer to him and used a fork to cut the chunks up into tiny bites.
    That was better. Michael licked up the gravy from the table and stalked up to the plate again.
    Darien watched him closely from the other side of the table.
    Darien! Yay, he didn’t have to remind himself of the man’s name.