Too Late For Regret: My Dragon Lord

ence

crown of Aidan's head. My hand was perfectly steady. As an

ar the crackle of the candle fla

face a mask of undisguised contempt. He was waiting fo

ith a venomous hatred, as if I were pierc

he bed, silent, his amber eyes filled with scrutiny an

n my world, there was

e third... the temples, the points at the base of his skull, th

nd open the senses. Though I was a practitioner of Western medicine, I had studied a

tip of his finger, I gave it a gentle twis

ntly, a mira

nt slack. His rapid, shallow breathin

in his cheeks began to visibly recede,

orehead. The scorching heat was

st like that. It had tak

He rushed to the bedside and felt Aidan's forehead for himself. Wh

method he knew, and had been utterly helpless. And I

of his world had

breathing now peaceful, and forgot to cry, forgot

ed, his gaze shifting from Aidan to me and back again, h

he had always seen as a disgrace and a burden, possess suc

hiding all these years? For the first time, he felt a powerfu

a cloth, and tucked them back into my hair.

voice calm. "Do you

h shades of red and white. His li

were sacred. To break a bet made b

f everyone in the room, he bowed his proud head. He bent deeply at

out. "Your healing arts are far

s squeezed from

e room, a sharp slap across the face of

, then turned to Caelus. "My Lord. Our o

, he nodded. His voice was hoarse. "I swore it in the name of the Drago

me, the word tasting foreign

hen, Aidan stirred on the bed. He slowly opened his eyes. The first thing h

harine in a weak, terrified voice, "Mommy... it was her.