I lowered the bow. "What?"
"The one you like most. What is it?"
"I don't know. I've never really thought about it. In the compound, everything was mostly grey. I didn't realize it because I didn't know anything else, but up here?"
He smiled, which made his eyes light up. "A whole new world. You can change your mind, but right now, which one do you like the most?"
I turned back to the target. For a moment, I thought about purple, but a brighter color popped into my mind. He'd said right now. He'd made it clear this didn't have to be my favorite forever.
"Orange."
That made him pause. "Orange? Like a sunset?"
I nodded, aiming down the arrow and pulling my abdominal muscles tight. "Dark, almost reddish."
"Not like Rymar's skin?"
"Like your eyes." I exhaled and released, watching the arrow bury itself just beside the center, but not quite in it. "They were the first bright color I ever saw."
He moved behind me and pressed my arm down, lowering the bow. "I thought you'd believe I was a demon. Black with eyes the color of the fires of Hell, or something. I would've thought orange would be a scary color."
I just shook my head. "You're green, almost blue."
He stepped around me to look me in the face. "Barely."
"And iridescent." I smiled as I reached up to trace the specks of light across his arm. "Like rainbows."
"You've been looking at me a lot?"
I shrugged, worried that might be an accusation. I had been. I'd looked at all of them, and my thoughts weren't always mere observations. Unfortunately, his tone of voice gave me no clue as to whether I'd crossed some line I shouldn't have.
So I simply replied, "You are the Wyvern."
When I turned back to the target, he stopped me, pulling the bow from my hands. "Take a break or your arms will learn bad habits from being too tired." He set it aside and stepped closer, his eyes never leaving my face. "Half the people in town think my skin is black and nearly white, but you know it's green?"
"I saw that on the first day."
His eyes scanned my face. "Why?"
"Because I'd never seen a Dragon before? Because they warned us about you specifically?" Hopefully, that was the right answer.
"And why aren't you scared of me, Ayla?" His voice had dropped, the sound turning to velvet. "Kanik sometimes makes you shy, and Rymar has made you flinch, but why have you never been scared of me?"
I lifted my face to meet his eyes, aware he was much taller than me. "Should I be?"
He nodded, sliding the back of his thumb across my jaw. "I think so. You can't tell a man your favorite color is the same as his strange eyes and think he won't care."
"But you said you won't hurt me. I don't want to hurt you either."
His eyes closed. "Ayla, remind me you're a Mole. Tell me a lot."
"You said I wasn't one anymore!"
With a snarl, he stepped back, grabbed a throwing knife, and flung it. A litany of snarled words fell from his lips. "I also said I'd take care of you, but you're distracting as hell, okay? Get the arrows, reset the weapons, and then you're doing it again."
I nodded quickly and hurried to the targets to retrieve the arrows and his blade. Behind the table of weapons, Zasen paced, his tail lashing. He looked angry. I quickly thought over what I'd done, and I could only think of two things that could've made him so upset. Dropping the ammunition on the table, I began to sort it back out.
"So I'm still a Mole?"
His answer was clipped. "No."
"Then I shouldn't like the color orange?"
He sighed, his shoulders dropping. "You can like any color you want. Orange is a good one, I think."
"So why are you mad at me?" I turned to face him, keeping my eyes down and clasping my hands before me.
His tail thrashed once more, then stilled. "I'm not." His voice was too calm. It was the type of calm that always came before the storm. "I'm mad at me."
I bobbed my head, trying to show I understood. "I didn't mean to make you mad at you."
With a noise in the back of his throat, he stepped toward me, and I flinched back, bracing for the punishment. I'd made him angry, so I knew what came next - or at least my body did. Zasen immediately froze.
"Ayla." Slowly, he lifted his arm and clasped my bicep. His fingers were soft but prevented me from pulling away. Then he took another half step closer. "I'm not mad at you."
I nervously bobbed my head again. "I know."
"Then why do you wince?"
