Free Not His Dragon by Annie Nicholas Page B

this means?”
    She couldn’t resist touching the raised blue tinted markings. “No.”
    “When a dragon reaches maturity his clan places their mark to claim him or her. Their status determines the position of the mark on their body.”
    “Why don’t any of your other tattoos show when you’re in dragon form?” He was covered in them as a human.
    “Magic, of course.” He tapped by his eye. “This mark comes from my people. The other ones are done by a local vampire.”
    “Seriously? Your tattoo artist is a vampire?” She knew they were around but they were as elusive as dragons. Maybe more so, since they were rumored to still need human blood to survive. Prejudice still ran thick in mortals, and vampires bore the brunt of it. Who would cry foul over a pile of ashes?
    “I’m his canvas.” He said it so softly she had to bite her tongue on her sharp remark. There was a lot of pain behind those three words. The tattoos meant something more to Eoin than just ink.
    She stroked his muzzle. “What does your clan mark mean?” Just yesterday the thought of being this close to a dragon would have made her stiff with fear. Amazing how her sense of preservation melted with Eoin around.
    “Its proximity to the eye means I’m a forward scout for the clan military.”
    She’d read about the dragon wars in school. It had been one of the few subjects that interested her. The last battle had been fought over Iceland over a hundred and forty years ago. “Were you part of the Gálgahraun conflict?” The volcanic territories were quite a prize.
    “No, my clan lives in the Andes.”
    The number of dragons in the world was unknown. A few scientists tried to keep track of the more public dragons like Eoin but everyone knew most of them lived in isolated pockets away from mankind.
    “See the X over my mark?”
    She leaned back to get a better view. “I thought that was part of the design.”
    Eoin shook his head. “It means I left my clan.” He rose to his feet and lowered his wing until it brushed her hands. “Climb aboard.”
    Hesitant, she stared at his back. How could he drop a bomb like leaving his clan and not expect a thousand questions?
    “Angie, are you afraid to fly?” The challenge was clear in his tone.
    She’d been so wrapped up in her head, she’d forgotten his offer. Gripping his wing, she began the climb to his back. “There’s nothing for me to hold. What if I fall?”
    “Sit between my shoulder blades. I’ll fly smooth enough that you won’t need riding straps.”
    She swallowed a lump in her throat. How many times had she dreamed of flying? More than she could count. Could she trust Eoin not to drop her? After pepper spraying him yesterday, she gave herself fifty-fifty odds.
    He twisted his head. “Shifters are simple people. We like someone, we go after them.”
    “Until your mate comes along and you drop the other person.”
    “Ah, the elusive mate. It’s a much rarer occurrence than you think. Most shifters don’t even aspire to ever finding one.”
    “You?”
    “Never. Well, not actively. I mean, if she showed up on my doorstep, I wouldn’t turn her away.”
    Angie finished her climb and settled where he’d directed her. Eoin wasn’t what she’d expected. He was easy to talk with and he listened. Over his shoulders, she glimpsed the ground so very far away. “Uh.” She squirmed and clenched her thighs uselessly on his thick neck. “I changed my mind.”
    “Don’t be silly.” He gently launched from the balcony with his wings extended so he easily slipped into a glide.
    She clung to him and screamed from the bottom of her lungs as if she’d dropped from the top of a roller coaster ride. Running out of air, she let her voice fade.
    “Done?”
    Heat of embarrassment scorched from her chin to the roots of her hair. “Yes,” she whispered with a hoarse voice.
    His body vibrated with a chuckle. “I won’t let you fall.”
    “The ground is telling me something