Unlike the other contestants, a gag busied his mouth. His arms were bound awkwardly behind his back, and his legs were tied together poorly. The ropes pressed tight and raw against his delicate skin.
My mate was hurt.
My mate was in danger.
The scales and feathers along my spine went rigid with fury. A terrifying cry erupted from my fanged mouth, loud enough to echo off the forest behind us. I lunged for Alaric like a striking cobra. His eyes widened, but he didn’t move.
My fangs sheared the ropes. They fell to tatters. With his arms free, Alaric wriggled onto his knees. He yelled something, but it was muffled behind the gag. In a precise motion, I slashed it with my claws—it fell from his mouth into the sand.
He coughed, then called, “Jade, it’s okay!”
I barely heard him over the roaring blood in my skull. I was furious and terrified.
In another well-aimed strike, my sharp teeth shredded the last ropes on his legs. All the binds were gone, but my fear and guilt remained.
Alaric scrambled to his feet. He threw his arms around my head, hugging my forehead to his chest. His body was warm compared to my cold scales and icy rage.
“Jade, calm down,” Alaric breathed. “It’s okay. I’m fine.”
A growl shook my throat. I couldn’t stop thinking about the sight of him bound and helpless, constricted dangerously by unskilled hands.
His hands stroked the sides of my face. “It’s okay,” Alaric repeated.
I hissed—not at him, but at the situation.
“I know,” Alaric said soothingly.
Rushed footsteps alerted me to an intruder. I broke free of Alaric’s grip and whipped my head around to snarl at Gaius.
“Whoa! It’s me, Jade,” Gaius cried, putting up his palms. “Is everything okay?”
His words blurred like smeared letters across my brain. I barely understood him. I was so angry that I’d lost my ability to understand speech or talk in dragon form. I’d reverted to a primal state of being right in front of everybody.
My blood sloshed like chunks of ice. I grasped at that loose, desperate grip on my humanity. I retained just enough of it to be deeply ashamed of myself.
But my embarrassment wasn’t the worst part. Going feral was dangerous. If I lost myself—allof myself—everyone present could be seriously hurt, except my mate.
Before I could snatch back my dwindling civility, Alaric spoke up in my stead.
“Can we turn the cameras off for a minute?” he asked sharply.
Gaius frowned in concern, then nodded. He understood the gravity of the situation. He took a long stride away from me, then gestured to the camera crew with a horizontal hand slice.
I heaved for breath. Calm, steady rhythms. Tranquil thoughts. I needed to pull myself back from the edge.
Alaric grasped the sides of my head again, forcing me to look at him. “Jade, I’m here,” he said, curt and firm. “Get a hold of yourself.”
My mind swam. He was safe. And he smelled so good. I thrust my snout against Alaric’s chest, sucking in his scent with every deep breath. It was the only thing grounding me.
“It’s all right,” Alaric said. There was no gushy insincerity in his voice. His matter-of-fact tone brought me back down to earth.
I exhaled a long, hot breath against Alaric. I finally stopped feeling like my heart was going to explode from my ribs, and my body relaxed.
Then I realized my claws were clenched hard in the sand. If anyone had been in the way, I would’ve shredded them by accident—and in my feral state, I wouldn’t have even cared. That realization horrified me.
My shame shocked me back into humanity. I tried to make myself smaller. I folded my wings and tucked my tail around my claws, pressing closer to Alaric.
“You’re okay,” Alaric said as he stroked my scaly face. “Everything is fine.”
