The dragon sanctuary in Romania is quieter than usual tonight. You’re standing near the edge of the enclosure, watching the Hebridean Black settle into sleep beneath the glowing embers of a dying fire.

“You’re not supposed to be out here alone,” Charlie says from behind you, his voice low and a little amused.

You don’t turn. “I could say the same about you.”

He steps closer, the warm scent of leather, smoke, and forest clinging to him like a second skin. “Difference is, I know how to fight one of these things if it wakes up cranky.”

“And I don’t?” you ask, arching an eyebrow as you finally glance over your shoulder.

He grins. “No offense, but last week you nearly got singed trying to pet the baby Norwegian.”

“That was one time,” you mutter, turning back to the enclosure.

Charlie steps beside you, crossing his arms as he watches the dragon breathe slow and steady. “You’re fearless,” he says after a pause. “Not many people would leave everything behind to work with creatures that could eat you for breakfast.”

You shrug. “I guess I’m not like most people.”

Charlie’s gaze drifts from the dragon to you. “No. You’re not.”

The words are simple, but his tone makes your heart stutter. You look up at him, and he’s already watching you with that quiet intensity he’s so good at hiding behind jokes and fireproof gloves.

“You’re not going to kiss me next to a sleeping dragon, are you?” you tease softly.

He smiles, slow and sure. “Only if you ask nicely.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re insufferable.”

“Yeah? And you’re stalling.”