Penning the Dead

Witch wars

Prologue There weren’t always dragons in the Valley and Charlotte wasn’t always a dragon. Charlotte roused at the stretch of her love, the slow movement lifting her out of a beautiful dream. Softly opening her eyes she saw him in the gentle glow of the afternoon light, Dmitry her dragon and the master of her heart. His olive skin glistening slightly in the rays filtering in through the trees outside their bedroom window. His long dark locks curled and twisted over his shoulders. He looked so peaceful she dare not wake him as she climbed out of bed and took a steaming cup of coffee onto the porch. Another sleep in after a long night of conjuration, phantoms and coded messages.