Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86059 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86059 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
I stop, but I don’t get off the bike.
Across from me, the dragon waits, his head lowered, a bit like a cat playing at hunting. His tail flicks back and forth, his eyes whirling with equal amounts of black and gold.
“Move, please,” I say, gesturing with my hand. I know he doesn’t understand me, but I hope the urgency in my tone comes across. “I need to get home. I’m tired and I hurt.” I need the medic to look at my face and maybe I can persuade her to part with some of the precious aspirin. I feel awful and so weak I want to just fall over.
Even my near-rape hasn’t sunk in yet. It will, just…I can’t process it yet. I have to get back to Fort Dallas and away from the dragon whose eyes are growing increasingly dark by the minute. The sight of black creeping into those eyes fills me with uneasiness, and I’m not sure what to do.
He pushes forward, reaching for me again with those enormous, terrifying claws.
I do the only thing that comes to mind, I slap him away.
The moment I do, it feels like a mistake. My hand is ineffectual against his massive, scaled talons, but when I smack him, his eyes go completely black.
I suck in a breath.
I want to tell him that it was instinct. That I always lash out when I’m scared, that I’m being pushed too hard, that I’m tired and hungry…but he’s a dragon, and my reasons don’t matter.
I close my eyes, trembling, waiting for him to retaliate. Waiting for him to slice me open like he did Brady.
Long moments pass, and nothing happens. I remain where I am, eyes closed, trembling. A shadow falls over me, and I bite back a whimper of terror.
Something hot blows over my hair. The dragon’s breath. I can’t keep my eyes closed any longer. I open them and look up, and the dragon is looming over me, bigger than anything I’ve ever seen, more terrifying than any nightmare I’ve ever had.
My scars burn as if I’m being torn open all over again.
But the dragon only nudges me with his nose and makes that tiny crooning noise in the back of his throat again.
No. Fuck this. I have to get away. With a terrified whimper, I leave my bike behind and race away through the abandoned cars that litter the streets. As I run, every muscle in my back clenches, and my neck feels tight. I keep expecting claws to wrap around me again, for the dragon to grab me and never let me go.
For him to rip me in half like he did Brady.
I don’t stop running. I keep on going, even when the world is hazy and black around me and spots dance in front of my eyes. I keep going even though my body trembles with exhaustion and hunger, and my feet slow down. I keep pushing ahead; the only conscious thought in my throbbing mind is to get back to the fort. Get back to safety. Get back to my bed and hide from the world.
I don’t stop until I get to the fort entrance.
9
JURIK
Her fear scent returns.
I hate her fear scent.
I watch the female as she flees from me, every instinct in my mind screaming that I should chase her down like prey, pounce upon her with my claws. I should take the female back to my nest and feed her growling belly.
But then her fear scent will linger forever, and I cannot have that. I watch her go, puzzled, and allow her to put distance between us. I retreat, waiting to see if she is going to look for me, but she never turns to look back, never scans the skies for me, and I feel…disappointment?
I have not felt disappointment for a very long time, though, so I do not hate it so much.
I follow a safe distance behind, far enough that she will not be able to see me or pick up my scent on the winds. She continues her panicked flight, heading toward the human hive, and I prowl behind, making sure that nothing attacks her. No wild animals will harm her, and neither will another dragon.
She is mine.
She will wear the scent of my fires instead of her fear scent. It will happen. I just must be…patient.
I do not like that she runs, though. I do not like that her fear scent perfumes the air around me. I do not like that she returns to the hive. It stinks of humans and even worse, Salorians. It is surrounded by others of my kind with no minds left to them.
It is everything that is awful and wrong with this place, and I hate it.
My temper flares as she staggers toward the gate. I want to grab her and claim her as mine. I hate the hive. It is not safe. The stench of it roils through my mind, bringing with it the madness of colors.