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The pain stops, and I allow myself to drift as she sets to work, relaxing into the embrace of her magic. I could swear I feel it as it gently nudges everything back into working order. It takes longer than I thought it would. Maybe I waited too long to say something.

I open my eyes when I feel her hands draw back, and the sensation returns to my chest. She looks paler, the rings under her eyes darker than before, and she’s sweating despite the chilled air. My brow furrows in concern. She’s pushed herself too far.

“You feel alright?” I’m her sole focus as Mike gapes at her with awe.

“Yeah,” I gruffly answer and sit up, clearing my throat in embarrassment.

“Let me know if it starts to hurt again, just in case,” she pushes, and I make a noncommittal noise as I slide out of the truck bed. I hesitate, then turn to offer her a hand out.

She’s already hopped over the side and comes around to join us.

Mike drops his bag and swiftly wraps his arms around me, his fingers nowhere near touching on the other side.

“Um, do I need to give you guys a minute?” Beatrice’s eyebrows shoot up as she eyes us, ready to walk away from the public display.

I give her a withering look as my shoulders relax, tension flowing out of me at the physical contact.

“What? No!” Mike snaps. “Get over here and hug him!”

“No,” she says, aghast at the notion, her eyes flicking to him in surprise.

“It makes dragons feel good after battle to have their people around them,” Mike gives her a disgusted stare. “You’re one of his people. Get over here!”

My eyes widen at this show of knowledge. How did little Mike know that?

“Umm,” she debates, shifting from foot to foot in discomfort. “Is that ok?” She directs the question to me with a cringe that clearly says, ‘Please say no.’

“Of course,” I hold an arm out with a malicious grin. Her reluctance to touch me is amusing. It has nothing to do with the fact that she fawns all over the dog and is disgusted at the thought of hugging me. Not at all.

She sighs and steps under my arm, stiffly wrapping one arm around my waist and standing at my side with an inch separating us. I’d laugh if I wasn’t so disappointed.

After a minute, her posture relaxes, and she lets herself lean into me, her rigid hold relaxing and her head resting against my chest. That’s better. My instincts hum with pleasure as my mind wanders in a relaxed state.

She said that Ben had broken her personal space bubble. She touched King without truly paying attention and then acted as if she had been electrified after she realized she had done it.

Maybe it isn’t me, personally, that she objects to touching. Perhaps it’severyone.

Her head does a little wiggling movement as if she’s trying to get more comfortable, shoulders sagging down, and I tighten my arm around her a little, just in case she falls asleep.

Mike pulls away and wipes the sweat from his brow. “Damn, you’re hot.”

There’s a joke in there, but I’m content enough to leave it be.

“How are you not covered in sweat? Is it a mender thing?”

Beatrice’s head snaps up, all of the tension returning to her body with two foolish questions as her arm drops from around me. My grip tightens as she tries to withdraw, and my lip curls at Mike to display my teeth.

“Ambassador Mender,” a tiny voice startles us from off to our right.

Mike leaps back and snatches up his backpack as if he’s about to start running. I hold out a staying hand as I watch the faery hover near us.

His armor is coated in blood, obviously one of the guards that hitched a ride in the truck. I’m sure he had fun with whoever survived the crashes we left behind. Maybe even interrogated them if we’re lucky.

He bows low and doesn’t lift his face up as he says, “I have taken the liberty of calling for a ride to take you home. I apologize if that is unnecessary.”

“That’s… good.” I watch as she struggles to understand the simple nicety.

“Your service,” I say with a smirk, and the faery pulls upright.