Moss was sitting alongside the fire, with Maggie beside him. His head was bent towards hers, listening intently to whatever she was crooning. By the occasional wince, he was listening to her psychic monologue as well.
But that wasn’t what made Carol feel as though she’d walked into a dream.
They were looking at the dragon eggs. Maggie was chittering instructions, which Moss was doing his best to follow. He shaped sand into soft beds next to the fire and tucked each egg into place, stopping after each movement to check with Maggie whether he was doing the right thing. She peeped and whistled, content that her every whim was being followed, and for a moment, Carol couldn’t breathe.
Moss was a gentle giant. She already knew that about him. He knew how big he was and took care to move gently through the world. He noticed the details; she knew that as well. He had made sure she and Maggie were warm and fed, even if he couldn’t promise they were safe. He even put up with Maggie’s bad attitude. She’d known guys who weren’t that understanding with human-shaped kids. But not him.
Her stomach twisted. He’d appeared out of nowhere, sure. He was hiding something from her, and she was starting to suspect what it was.
But look at him. Playing babysitter to an opinionated baby dragon. Listening to her whistle lullabies to her unhatched siblings.
How could she do anything but love him?
But there were limits to how good anyone could be. And the longer she put it off, the worse it got.
She had to tell him the truth.
“Hey, you two,” she said, her voice as awkward as her footing as she crouched beside them. Her human body felt as unwieldy as her shark form, lurching through air too thin to hold it up. The glow at the edges of her vision—was that a migraine? Was she going to faint?
Was her heart beating so loudly her shark senses were going into overload, perceiving her own body as a nuclear glow?
“We’re all good here. Sorry for rushing you back. Maggie seems happy enough bossing me—” Moss looked up, and his eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong?”
I decided to tell you the truth about myself, and my body decided to blow itself up rather than go through with it.“Hngh?” she managed to gulp out, and then he was at her side, one arm around her shoulders, the other tipping her head back to study her face.
Concern creased the skin at the corners of his eyes, dug lines around his mouth. The pad of his thumb brushed her cheek—soft, careful. “Are you all right?”
She was rallying herself to answer—this washer body, she could make it talk, shecould—and then his eyes flickered. Down to her mouth. Back up to her eyes.
His expression tightened. Not disappointment, but something close. Sympathy.
He’d been hoping that shifting into shark form would reset her face.
Her chest hurt.If that was true, I would have been fixed years ago.
“I’m—not feeling so good,” she managed to force out. “Bit woozy.”
Maggie pulled Moss’s hand out of the way and pushed her snout into its place, worry jabbing from her mind.
“I’m fine,” Carol reassured her quickly. “Just a bit light-headed from shifting and running up here.”
“I should have told you there was no hurry,” Moss said ruefully. Damn it, she hadn’t meant to make it sound like she was blaming him. Then his mind brushed against hers. *Did you find anything out there?*
*A lot of water.*She grimaced and looked away. *Nothing useful.*
*Was the swim nice, at least? I’m saying this silently so that Maggie doesn’t hear the ‘s’ word.*
Carol smiled. *It… was. Actually. Yeah.*
And it was the truth. Moving in her shark form had been as awkward as ever, and sheshouldhave been as terrified by the ocean as Maggie was. She’d had enough bad experiences with it. But maybe her brain had filled up on freakouts. The water had been cool and soothing.
Maybe next time she could try swimming in human form.
“Pree-oo? Oo? Oo?” Maggie looked between them both, an accusing wrinkle on her snout.
“And now I think it’s time for lunch,” Moss announced.
Maggie straightened. “Ee!”
