Page 13 of Hot for the Dragon (Saltwater Grove #3)

13

DAPHNE

S moke lingered in the air as Daphne led Archer away from the Cauldron & Cup. Her fingers remained wrapped around his forearm, feeling the tension in his muscles. Debris littered the cobblestone street - scorched awnings, broken glass, and scattered merchandise from the shops.

"Look," she said, releasing his arm and gesturing to where a group of people huddled together in the street. "Instead of arguing with my brother, help me check on everyone."

Archer crossed his arms. "I don't do community service."

"Well, today you do." She marched toward the group, knowing he'd follow despite his protests. "Besides, you just saved half of these people. You might as well make sure they're okay."

"That was different. That was fighting."

"And this is cleaning up after the fight." She knelt beside an elderly woman whose hands shook as she clutched her purse. "Mrs. Bennett? Are you hurt?"

"Just rattled, dear." The woman's eyes darted to Archer, who loomed behind Daphne like a storm cloud. "Is he... safe?"

"Safer than those other dragons," Daphne said firmly. She helped Mrs. Bennett to her feet, steadying her with gentle hands. "Archer, would you mind walking her home? She lives just around the corner on Maple."

"I don't-" He caught Daphne's look and sighed. "Fine. Come on, ma'am."

As they walked away, Daphne heard Mrs. Bennett say, "You know, you're much more handsome than the rumors suggest."

"The rumors also say I eat people," Archer replied dryly.

"Do you?"

"Only on Tuesdays."

Daphne couldn't help but smile as she moved to the next group of people. Maybe getting Archer to interact with the townspeople would help both sides see past their preconceptions. She created a few sprigs of lavender, handing them out to help calm nerves as she worked her way down the street.

When Archer returned, he found her conjuring flowers to replace those burned in window boxes. "Playing gardener while the town's under attack?"

"Sometimes a little beauty is exactly what’s needed after ugliness," she said, coaxing a vine of morning glories up a scorched trellis. "Besides, I saw you being nice to Mrs. Bennett."

"I was not nice. I was... tolerant."

"Mmhmm. Help me with this fallen sign?"

To her surprise, he actually did as she asked, though not without an exaggerated eye roll that made her bite back a smile. As they worked, more people emerged from their shelters, and Daphne kept Archer busy helping clear debris and checking for injuries.

"You're actually quite good at this when you're not trying so hard to be intimidating," she observed as they finished helping a group of teenagers board up a broken window.

"I'm always intimidating," he replied, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice. "It's part of my charm."

"Oh, is that what we're calling it now?" Daphne laughed, then sobered as she caught sight of a young child crying.

Daphne's heart clenched when she walked up to the little girl, noticing she was crying over her crushed flowers. Daphne knelt down beside her. "Hey there, sweetie. What's your name?"

"Sarah," the girl sniffled, wiping her nose with her sleeve.

"Watch this, Sarah." Daphne touched the broken stems, and fresh green shoots emerged from the wreckage. Colorful petals unfurled before their eyes as new flowers bloomed. Sarah's tears stopped, replaced by wonder.

"How did you do that?" she asked softly.

"Magic," Daphne winked, gathering the fresh bouquet and presenting it to Sarah.

Archer shifted uncomfortably behind them. "We should keep moving."

"Here," Daphne handed him half the flowers. "Give these to that woman over there. The one who keeps looking at her burned shop."

"I don't do flowers," he growled.

"You do today." She gave him a gentle push. "Go on, big scary dragon. I promise it won't hurt your reputation."

As they worked their way through the town, Daphne noticed subtle changes in Archer's demeanor. His shoulders relaxed slightly when an elderly man thanked him for carrying boxes of salvaged inventory. The hard line of his jaw softened when he helped a crying shop owner sort through the remains of her business.

"Never thought I'd see Archer Hawke playing delivery boy," a man muttered as they passed.

"Never thought I'd see grown men hiding while dragons attacked," Archer shot back, but Daphne caught his arm before he could say more.

"Less growling, more helping," she said, steering him toward where paramedics were treating burns. "Channel that energy into something useful."

As the sun started drifting lower in the sky, they had helped dozens of people. Daphne's magic had created impromptu gardens in several destroyed spaces, bringing touches of life back to the scorched streets. She caught Archer watching her work more than once, though he quickly looked away whenever she noticed.

"You're good at this," he admitted as they helped the last group of people board up windows. "The whole... making people feel better thing."

"And you're not as terrible at it as you pretend to be," she replied, brushing dirt from her hands. "I saw you with that little boy earlier. You actually smiled."

"I did not smile."

"You did. It was very sweet."

"Dragons aren't sweet," he grumbled, but Daphne noticed he didn't move away when she bumped his shoulder playfully with hers.

Daphne soon led Archer to a weathered wooden bench beneath an old oak tree. Her muscles ached from the day's work, but a different kind of warmth filled her chest – the satisfaction of helping others in need. She touched the bench's arm, and tiny moss flowers sprouted between the wood grain.

"You're doing that thing again," Archer said, dropping onto the bench with casual grace that reminded her of a lounging predator.

"What thing?"

"Making everything prettier than it needs to be."

"Maybe some things deserve to be pretty." She gestured to the town spread before them, where people were still working together to clean up after the attack. "Look at them. Really look."

The late afternoon sun painted everything in honey-gold light, highlighting the determination on people's faces as they helped their neighbors. Outside the bakery, Mr. Peterson shared fresh bread with those who'd lost their homes. Near the fountain, a group of teenage witches created magical barriers around damaged buildings.

"These are the people you're protecting from Carmen," Daphne said softly. "Not just the buildings or the businesses. Real people with real lives."

Archer shifted, his shoulder brushing hers. "I know what people are, Daphne."

"Do you? Because you've spent an awful lot of time hiding from them." She turned to face him. "That little girl with the flowers? Her mom runs the bookstore where I used to read during lunch breaks. The man you helped with the boxes? He gives free coffee to students during finals week."

"Are you trying to make me care about every person in town?" His voice held its usual gruffness, but something softer lurked beneath.

"Maybe I'm trying to make you remember what it's like to be a part of something bigger than yourself." She created another tiny flower, this time offering it to him. "Even the scariest dragon in town needs connection."

"I'm not-" he started to protest, but she cut him off with a laugh.

"Oh please, you've been brooding and flexing all day. Own it." She nudged his ribs playfully. "But I've seen through your act now. You actually enjoy helping people, don’t you?"

"I enjoy solving problems," he corrected, but accepted the flower with surprising gentleness. "People are usually the problem."

"And yet here you are, sitting on a bench with one."

He smirked as he looked at her. "You're particularly annoying."

"Thank you," she beamed, meeting his gaze. "I try my best."

The sun painted golden streaks across Archer's sharp features, and Daphne found her gaze drawn to the way it caught in his auburn hair. She turned and quickly looked away, pretending to be fascinated by a nearby dandelion. With a subtle wave of her fingers, she coaxed it to bloom, its yellow petals unfurling in the warm light.

From the corner of her eye, she caught him watching her. His dark eyes lingered for a moment before darting away when she shifted on the bench. The wood creaked beneath them, and she noticed how he'd positioned himself - taking up space with his broad shoulders, one arm stretched along the back of the bench behind her.

"Your magic," he said suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence. "It's not just about making things pretty, is it?"

Daphne's heart skipped at the unexpected observation. "No, it's about bringing life back to places that need it." She traced her finger along the bench's arm, leaving a trail of tiny white flowers in its wake. "Like today - sometimes people need to see beauty can return after destruction."

He made a noncommittal sound, but she noticed his posture soften slightly. The fierce dragon shifter who'd spent the day helping the townspeople seemed different from the gruff hermit who'd first opened his door to her. There was a gentleness in him that peeked through the cracks of his carefully maintained walls.

"You keep doing that," she said before she could stop herself.

"Doing what?" His voice rumbled low, almost defensive.

"Looking at me when you think I won't notice." The words tumbled out with a playful lilt that surprised even her. Heat crept up her neck as his intense gaze finally met hers directly.

"You've been doing the same thing," he countered, one eyebrow arching in challenge.

Daphne laughed, the sound carrying on the breeze. "Maybe I'm trying to figure you out." She held his gaze. "Because I think under all that brooding and those impressive muscles, there's someone who actually cares quite a lot."

"The sun's almost down," he said as he stood up quickly.