Zara POV
Zarek had been talking for exactly five minutes straight, and not one word he’d said carried any weight of importance.
“…and then I told the cook if he served me burned eggs one more time, I’d set the entire kitchen on fire. You should’ve seen his face—pure terror. Honestly, Zara, the world is lucky I’m merciful. A lesser dragon would’ve reduced that omelet to ash and—hey, are you even listening to me?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose and exhaled slowly. “No, Zarek. I stopped listening when you said ‘burned eggs.’ That was four minutes and fifty-seven seconds ago.”
He grinned, sharp teeth flashing like he enjoyed every ounce of my irritation. “You wound me. Here I am, pouring out the tragic tale of my culinary suffering, and you mock me. Where’s the compassion? The empathy? Th
