Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Jack would hate that I’m with Zohr. Not because Zohr’s a dragon, but because the two of us together— our spirits “combined” as Zohr says—creates an unsafe environment. We’re being hunted. If Azar catches me, Zohr’s done for. I’m nothing but a liability to him, and him to me. The truth is, we’d both be better off surviving if we were separated.
It doesn’t matter that when he holds me close—like he does right now—I feel safe and secure. It doesn’t matter that his kisses make me breathless, or that just being in the same room with him makes me happy. It doesn’t matter that his pleased thoughts make me feel light and full of joy.
This needs to be about survival, not emotion.
I roll over in bed and gaze at him. Zohr’s eyes are closed, his long golden lashes just barely visible in the shadowy darkness. Moonlight’s pouring in from a hole in the ceiling far above, and I can make out his face in the shadows. He’s beautiful. There’s a knot in my throat that feels a mile wide.
It would be smartest to get up and leave right now. To hide my scent and be far away by the time he wakes up. But that’s cowardly, and I’ve never been a chicken. A bitch, yes. Stubborn, always. But cowardly? Not my thing. When Zohr wakes up in the morning, I’ll talk to him and we’ll sit down and discuss how we can break our mental bond so he can be free.
And so I won’t be his Achilles heel.
27
ZOHR
Emma is quiet the next morning, her thoughts distant. She seems troubled, but when I nuzzle her, I can sense that it makes her unhappy. Frustrated, I give her space, but I watch her closely. Something is troubling my mate and I must learn what it is so I can fix it.
My stomach growls with hunger, but I ignore it. Instead, I remain in two-legged form and squat next to my mate as she mends a hole in one of her shoes. Are you hungry? Shall we go hunting?
She thinks for a moment and then shakes her head. “I’m fine. You go.”
I will stay here with you, I tell her. I do not want to leave you alone.
Emma purses her lips at that and sighs. “Zohr, I can feel your hunger. I have a few bars still in my bag. I can eat one of those. You need more than I do. Go hunt.”
And if the others should return? Just the thought fills me with anger. I will not leave you alone and unguarded.
“I know.” She smiles at me, and she is so beautiful that it fills me with lust. I want to touch her and bear her to the floor right here and claim her. “If you’re worried, then don’t go far,” she tells me. “And I’ll just douse myself with another round of perfume.”
My nose itches at the thought, but she is not wrong; the stench is enough to distract any drakoni nose. The thought of abandoning her goes against every instinct I have, though. I will not leave you.
She bites the thread to cut it and glances over at me, a faint smile playing at her lips. “Fine. I’ll go with you. But if I fall off your back, you’re hunting solo.”
I reach out and touch her cheek. I will not let you fall, I promise. I would die before I let anything happen to my Emma.
Hunting with her on my back soon proves more difficult than we anticipated. I cannot run after my prey or turn sharply because it will bounce her off of her perch, and after two near crashes and my meal running away, we compromise. She gets into the back seat of a nearby car and closes the doors, and I chase down one of the cows that wander nearby. Our thoughts remain connected and Emma scans the skies for dragons, ever alert. I do the same. There is one I can smell on the air, but it is a good distance away yet and is not to be feared.
My prey moos and retreats into the shambles of a nearby building, and I follow it inside. What is this place? I ask my Emma as I corner my meal and shear its head off with my teeth, then gulp the rest of it whole. I send her mental images.
Supermarket, looks like. All those empty shelves used to hold food. Her thoughts grow wistful. Are all of them empty?
All, I agree, though I am fascinated by her thoughts. She dreams of cookies and sweet things, and is sad that there are none. I will find you some.
Good luck, she sends back, amused. Then, I can’t believe you just ate that thing down to the hooves!
I finish chewing and lick my chops. It was delicious.