The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume I: Volume I

petite form.
    Brevelan stirred in her sleep. She turned toward him, seeking his warmth in the chill morning air. Jaylor groaned. He had to move away . . . now!
    “Mhmmm,” she murmured. Her small hand slipped across his chest.
    The gesture brought her breasts snug against his side. Excited tingles spread out from the point of contact. “Ah . . . good morning, Brevelan.” Jaylor sought to rouse her before her innocent attentions drove him beyond control. Good thing they were both fully clothed.
    “Mhmm. Cold.” Her eyes remained closed.
    “Let me build up the fire.” He slid his arm from under her head reluctantly.
    “Fire,” She mumbled again. Then her eyes opened in panic. “Fire?” She sat up abruptly. The blankets fell away and she shivered.
    “Wake up, Brevelan,” he commanded. Instinct told him to go to her, hold her until the morning fogginess cleared her mind of the nightmare that haunted her. Disastrous idea. She was much too tempting with her soft, innocent beauty. Russet locks tumbled about her face. He needed to push them out of her eyes, caress her cheek, kiss her soft mouth. He also needed all of his magic, intact, to safely confront the dragon. He didn’t know how much more magic he would need to shore up the border once they found Shayla.
    Thoughts of their quest brought to mind the absent wolf and cat. He couldn’t count on being alone with Brevelan long enough to fulfill what his body demanded.
    “Where . . . where is Puppy? And Mica?” The panic had not quite left her voice as she scanned the shadows of the recess with troubled blue eyes.
    “I don’t know. They wandered off sometime in the night; probably to eat,” he replied, keeping his back to her. It was best if he busied himself with feeding the fire. If he looked at her again, he would not be able to resist.
    “How long ago?”
    “I don’t know. They were gone when I awoke.” And you were in my arms, where you belong.
    That thought startled him. She did belong with him. But she couldn’t belong at his side night and day until he was a master magician.
    “I’m going down to the creek for water.” He stood as rapidly as his morning stiff body would allow. He stretched, easing his back. He turned to make sure Brevelan was awake and well. Another part of his body stretched and didn’t ease. He took off for the creek at a near run.
     
    “Mrrow.” Mica greeted Brevelan.
    “Did you have a good morning, Mica?” She watched the small cat sit next to the now glowing fire and wash her face.
    Mica didn’t deign to reply until she was finished with her face. “Mrrow.”
    Of course. Mica always had a good morning. It was her favorite time of day. The cat’s emotions, which were almost words, pressed into Brevelan’s chest with joyful energy.
    Brevelan chuckled. This was her favorite time of day as well. With each new dawn came the chance to move her life forward, an opportunity to leave the troublesome past farther behind.
    “Where is Puppy?” she asked the cat.
    No reply. Either Mica didn’t know or, more likely, didn’t care. Mica reminded Brevelan that Darville could take care of himself.
    “Are you sure about that?” Brevelan asked. There were times when the wolf acted as if he’d never lived in the wild before. He needed her help and companionship too often. He also needed her healing. Sometimes he seemed terribly clumsy for a wolf.
    Mica blinked. Her yellow cat-eyes changed to rounded hazel-green. She blinked again and the cat was once more inside those strange eyes.
    Brevelan tested the water in the small pot she had brought along. It was nearly bubbling, time to add the handful of grains. By the time Jaylor returned from the creek it should be ready.
    A little tune came to her. She hummed it quietly. When it was set in her mind, she sang it a little louder. The notes sought out the dark shadows behind her, then swirled forward to reach across the forest. Contentment filled the recesses of the overhang.
    Mica butted her head against Brevelan’s knee. She scratched the cat’s ears to keep her out of her lap. “I’m sorry there is no milk for you, Mica. We left Mistress Goat behind.”
    A loud purr was the cat’s response. She didn’t mind as long as her ears were rubbed just precisely there.
    “Grrower!”
    “What a nasty thing to say!” Brevelan sat straighter. She shivered at the intensity of the protest.
    “Grrower!”
    That wasn’t Mica!
     
    At the edge of the cliff Jaylor looked out at the