“Bits and pieces. Enough.” I meet his eyes. “Is there something you need to tell me?”
The color drains from his face.
Silence stretches between us, heavy and suffocating.
Finally: “I do not know how to say this.”
“Just say it.” I try for levity, falling short. “I promise I can handle whatever weird explanation you’re about to give me.”
He takes a breath. “I am not human.”
“Yeah, I got that part.”
“I am—” He stops. Tries again. “The things I can do. The heat. The strength. The way fire responded when you were trapped in the wreckage. It is because I am—” His hands flex. “I believe I am what your world calls a dragon.”
What your world.As if he doesn’t belong in it.
He’s watching me carefully. Waiting for disbelief. For horror. For me to run screaming. Or laugh.
I should probably give him something. Some reaction that matches the enormity of what he just said.
Instead, I hear myself say: “I know.”
He blinks. “You— What?”
“I know. I saw you.” I gesture vaguely. “The whole… wings and scales and breathing fire thing. Kind of hard to miss.”
“And you are—” He searches my face. “You are not afraid?”
“Should I be?”
“I do not know.” His voice drops. “I barely understand what I am. What I can do. The transformation happened without thought. Pure instinct when you were in danger.”
“Instinct to protect me.”
“Yes.”
“From men who wanted to hurt me.”
“Yes.”
“By turning into a giant golden dragon and scaring the shit out of them.”
His mouth twitches despite everything. “Yes.”
I lean back against the wall, processing. “Okay. So. Dragon. That actually explains a lot.”
“It does?”
“The body heat. The impossible strength. The way you survived up here with no supplies. The survival skills that come from nowhere.” I tick them off on my fingers. “The fact that fire didn’t burn me in the crash. You pulled me out, didn’t you? With—” I gesture vaguely. “Dragon magic or whatever?”
“I… believe so. Though I do not remember the act itself. Only knowing you needed help. And responding.”
“Right. Because you’re a dragon with some kind of protective instinct toward random humans who crash helicopters near you.”
“Not random.” His voice is firm. “Never random. You are—” He stops. “You matter, Mara. For reasons I do not fully understand.”
The words make my resolve weaken.
