One that had no Off switch.
With a long, frustrated sigh, he cracked the seal on the latest message and unfurled the scroll. Of course, he already knew what it said.
The annual census was about to take place. Attendance for any unmated dragon of a certain age was mandatory.
That was him. He was of a certain age. And unmated. A status he was perfectly intent on keeping.
He read farther. And frowned deeper.
Maintaining his bachelorhood was about to become impossible. The census had always been one of the main ways dragons found mates. Not only was it required that the unmatched attend, but with the games they participated in at the census, connections were made and partners were found.
As he read, he saw that the games would be used differently this year. As a means of matching more dragons up. There would be no avoiding being paired up at the census. There was mention of the preservation of their species.
Utter nonsense. The dragon race was in no danger of dying out.
He tossed the scroll aside. It skittered across his work bench as it rolled in on itself. He ignored it and went back to his chocolate work. He was carving a new mold for a new egg. One he planned to pour in white chocolate and accent with touches of silver dust and deep blue. He just didn’t have a name for it yet.
That would come in time.
Except now he was being called away, which meant he’d have to put his project on hold until he returned. And he wouldn’t be coming home alone.
His new mate had better like chocolate.
He frowned again. Blasted census. If he was anyone else, skipping the event would only earn him a mild reprimand. Maybe a slight fine.
But he’d be dealt with much more severely. He was expected to behave a certain way. And had been all his life. That deferential treatment was a big part of the reason why he’d separated himself away from his people in Shadowvale.
That and his curse.
He rolled his eyes and went back to his work. He really wanted to finish this mold before he left in the morning. Because he had no choice. He had to go to the census.
As much as he’d hoped to escape his life and his destiny by moving to Shadowvale, the truth was, if he didn’t go, the council would eventually come to him.
And having a thunder of angry dragons descend on Shadowvale would cause all kinds of problems for this town that had sheltered him for so many years. No one here deserved that. Not when many of them had come here to be left alone, too.
Better that he go. The exposure of his curse was inevitable. He’d accept whatever fate that brought him, deal with the fallout as best he could, then return to Shadowvale and live out his life hidden away from the scorn and ridicule that most certainly awaited him.
Even if that meant returning with a wife who didn’t necessarily want to move here. Maybe she would warm to the idea of a life of seclusion after she realized her new husband was damaged goods, despite his status.
Whoever they paired him with was going to be miserable, which meant his life would probably be miserable, too. Might as well be miserable in a place he liked.
A place where he actually had some friends who weren’t dragon-shifters and didn’t care that he was about to embarrass his entire race when the truth came out.
He glanced over at a pot of chocolate he was tempering, checking the temperature readout. It needed to be warmed up a bit. Then, once it was tempered, he’d pour it into a large block mold for future use.
First, he had to raise that readout by a few degrees. He went into a half-shift, feeling the bones of his face change and the movement of muscles and sinew within his body. His senses adjusted, sharpening with great precision. Here and there, patches of skin hardened into scales. But most importantly, heat built in his chest and throat. Heat that would become fire.
A moment later, he locked onto his target — the base of the copper pot holding the chocolate — and breathed a narrow stream of fire across the room.
The briefest thought went through his brain that maybe the curse would be gone this time. It was the same thought he had every time he used his powers. It had never come true.
He directed the swathe of heat across the pot, careful not to scorch the delicate substance within. Eyes on the thermometer, he extinguished the fire as soon as the temp began to rise, knowing just how much carryover there would be.
The jingle of the bell over his shop door told him he had a customer. He quickly shifted back to his full human form and got up. As he did, the soft clink of something hitting the floor sounded on his right side.
He glanced down to see proof of his curse lying there in plain view. Blue-violet and glistening with iridescence, the scale was beautiful against the pristine white tile of the back room. But the scale shouldn’t have come off.
That wasn’t something that was supposed to happen. It didn’t happen to any other dragon that he knew of.
Just him. Because that was the curse he lived under. Breathe fire, lose a scale.
Be vulnerable until that scale grew back.
He sighed and scooped up the leaf-sized shell of dragonskin, depositing it in the drawer of his workbench with the rest of them, then went out to greet the customer.
He didn’t have time to think about his curse more than he already had. There was no reason to. There was no answer in any book he’d ever read about why it happened or how to fix it or what was causing it. Not even a mention that it had ever occurred to any other dragon in history.
He smiled at the man in his shop. Not someone he recognized, although his circle of friends was small. A newcomer? The town didn’t get that many of those. “Welcome to The Chocolate Dragon. Anything I can help you with?”
The man pulled his gaze from the display cases to answer. “Everything looks amazing. Do you make all of these?”
“I do.” Charlie was proud of his work. He might not be curing cancer or working on world peace, but chocolate made people happy. And he liked to think his was especially good. Beautiful, too.
The man shook his head as he gazed at all the selections. “I’m not sure where to start. But I’d like to get a present for the woman in my life. I love surprising her with little gifts.”
“Very nice.” Since the man had said “little”, Charlie gestured toward the smallest eggs at the front of the case. There were only a few eggs in each size, since he’d stopped making new ones in anticipation of being away at the census. “Are there any flavor combinations that she likes? All of the eggs you see are filled with a selection of handmade chocolates, but I can fill them with a custom assortment if you like.”
“Theo loves sweets. I don’t think she’d be unhappy with any of these.” The man stuck his hand out. “I’m Robin Gallow, by the way.”
The Goblin King. Charlie knew of him, but had never met or seen the man. Rumor was he never left his castle. Clearly wrong. That’s what came of believing rumors. “Nice to meet you, Robin. I’m Charlie.”
Robin grinned. “I know who you are. I’ve heard a lot about your shop and these incredible eggs.”
Charlie laughed softly. “Then I must confess, I know who you are, too.”
Robin’s expression turned slightly melancholy. “You’re probably surprised to see me.”
That caught Charlie off guard. “I…”
“It’s okay, I know the rumors. That I never left my house. That I was a recluse. They were true, too. Although I did leave my house a little, but not in a way that allowed me to be truly social. All because of a curse I was under. Thankfully, that was broken by a remarkable woman. A woman I fell in love with.” He smiled brightly again. “That’s why I’m here. Because I can’t thank her enough for what she did for me.”