Thimbles and Fangs

FOUR

Without shoes or protective layers, and even with the potential threat of a poacher, the forest felt peaceful with August nearby. He'd cloaked himself much like Imogen did when she would venture into town, though it did nothing to hide the existence of his horns. The fact that he also forwent shoes, exposing scaled and talon-tipped toes, only added to the softness she was feeling.

It was like a warm bubble of happiness swelling inside of her. No other time would it be safe for them to be so exposed. In the outskirts, or in the metropolitan area especially, they would never be safe like this. Perhaps if they could somehow prove that they were upper-class socialites that would give them some cushioning, but that was not the case. She was the daughter of a merchant who was missing and he lived in a decrepit, abandoned, manor in the forest. There was a person he'd ordered around, so at best he was likely the illegitimate child of a socialite. But she was only speculating. It was too inappropriate to ask him outright.

"Will you be safe walking back to your house?" Imogen asked.

"Neither of my parents are quite like me," August answered. "You'd never even know just by looking at them. But I, on the other hand, am this." He motioned to himself. "I'll be fine."

"Are you sure? We could go back. If you have a working phone I could just call for my brothers." She bit her lip as she thought. "Ciaran and Aedan can be trusted with a secret."

August's footsteps stalled for a moment. Imogen turned back, looking up at him. His face didn't give away much. It was carefully blank; so completely different from the panicked look he'd had when she had hissed from mild discomfort.

He doesn't want to be seen that much? Imogen couldn't blame him. It was so dangerous, and asking to invite people he didn't know to his home was rude. What a stupid suggestion.

"Sorry." Imogen apologized. "I just...I'm worried you're going to be hurt too. I didn't mean to imply..."

A heavy hand came down on her head, ruffling her curly hair into a larger mess. "You didn't imply anything. I've just heard those names before. I was a bit surprised that the sister of knights would be allowed to roam about so freely."

She grabbed his hand, using both of her own to remove it from her hair. "It's either that or let my stepmother run our house and name into ruin. That was why I became a seamstress, to begin with. My little sister was outgrowing all of her clothes and Valentina wouldn't buy her anything new. She's obsessed with having her oldest daughter marry into royalty.

"Alyssa, my little sister, is about to be seventeen and she's never had anything but hand-me-downs. I repurposed the older dresses as much as I could but eventually made a deal with Sylvia. I would do some repairs for her and she would give me beyond-repair dresses in return so I could make something for my little sister."

"And now? Seamstresses don't only do repairs," August said.

"Now I repurpose the older dresses into other garments." She held up the bag they'd dug out of the bushes before leaving the manor. "This is a loan from Sylvia. She's helped me so much. I don't know where I'd be without her. Probably dead, maybe in a facility getting plucked."

The man hummed. "I understand. I've often thought about running away, but how would I make a living being as blatantly Dragon as I am? I suppose I could be a guard for a rich young master somewhere in the countryside...But, I would eventually be found."

"Are you in that old house against your will?" Imogen asked. She immediately clapped her hands over her mouth. "Oh my god. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to..."

The laughter that bubbled out of August was like rolling thunder. Frightening perhaps to anyone who didn't know what the sound was, but it caused the warmth inside of her to grow even more. Despite the question and what it could mean if he said yes, the laugh was hardy and comforting. The exposed skin of his face had reddened as he laughed.