Phoebe

  The air in the courtyard was stinging cold as only a late winter night could be. A grand fire burned in the centre, and there was a ring of standing heaters just outside that, marking out pens of sorts for the dragons. Gold and silver scales made a shimmering, holographic jumble of the light. Phoebe spotted Soot as the gap in the pattern.

  She stepped out of the light from the gallery, the last boundary of the party proper. Most of the guests were inside now, having paid whatever respects they felt they owed to the dragons before it got quite so cold. She'd left Thessaly to be swept up in the rising energy of the dancing, and now she walked slowly around the courtyard, nodding to the vets and attendants who noticed and waved.

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  Standing by Soot, Stefan wore a heavy overcoat that made him seem even more massive than usual. He smiled and stepped aside as Phoebe approached, bowing and gesturing with his right hand like a Palace butler directing a guest to dinner. Head picked out only by the deep amethyst of his eye, Soot leaned over at the movement.

  "Hey, Soot," Phoebe said, bowing her head and spreading her crownfeathers.

  His tongue slapped gently at her hair. She looked up again, and he licked right across her face, stinky carnivore breath and all.

  She laughed. "Yeah, I love you too." Reaching up, she scratched his nose. The chill was so like the night they'd met. "What do you think, Soot? Any regrets?"

  He huffed at her and bent his neck. She closed her eyes and let his snout come to rest against her forehead.

  my carrd.