Daela's frantic mind is scrambling for a response, how did the conversation suddenly sway in this unwanted direction?
What prize is this dragon even talking about?!
Daela's hand flies towards her neck, her fingers trembling as they press against the vulnerable skin, shielding it from Drakar's lazily wandering gaze. Her body quivers, goosebumps racing down her arms.
Only a few moments ago, she thought she'd completely wrapped this dragon around her fingers… Or had she not?
"So… Will you receive my mark or not?" Drakar drawls, shattering the momentary silence; a concealed smirk tugs on his lips as he watches his flustered prey.
Daela feels ensnared by the mysterious gleam in Drakar's eyes, the amber flecks seeming to burn brighter.
Is fate toying with her? How can he suddenly demand this?!
