A woman leaned into view, her face lined but kind, with gray hair pulled back in a loose braid. She carried the calm competence of someone used to injuries and fear. “Easy there,” the woman said gently and pressed a warm hand to Mallory’s shoulder. “Don’t try to sit up yet. You took a nasty fall.”
Mallory frowned as she tried to piece things together. The mountain. The trail. The sudden weight of something slamming into her.
“The mountain cat,” she said and her panic spiked. “It came out of nowhere.”
The woman’s expression softened. “It’s gone. Ran off before anyone could get a good look at it.”
“Ran off?” Mallory echoed faintly. That didn’t sound right. She remembered teeth. Claws. The certainty that she wasn’t going to make it.
“You were very lucky,” the woman continued. “A man found you not far from the ridge and brought you here. You received a horrible blow to the back of your head from the fall. A rock, I believe.”
Lucky. The word rang hollow.
Mallory swallowed, her throat dry. “How long was I out?”
“Two days,” the woman said. “You had us worried for a bit. The healer worried he may not be able to save you.”
After sipping some soup, Mallory’s gaze drifted to the small window set into the far wall. Pale daylight filtered through and clouds drifted lazily past jagged mountain peaks. She should have been hypothermic, broken, or worse.
Instead, she was alive. Bruised and aching, but alive.
Her body didn’t hurt as badly as it should have.
Fragments flickered through her mind. The animal’s weight, the terror and the pain, and then…
Flying.
Heat rushed to her face, even as she lay still beneath the blankets. That couldn’t be real. It was ridiculous. Her brain scrambled to make sense of trauma.
“Is it…” She hesitated, then shook her head. “Never mind.”
The woman studied her for a long moment as if considering whether to push. Then she smiled again. “Rest. I’ll be back with some more food.”
When the door closed behind her, the room suddenly felt too quiet.
Mallory stared at the ceiling, listening to the crackle of a fire somewhere nearby. She lifted a hand slowly and stared at it as she remembered the feel of… of what?
She pressed her hand to her chest and imagined she felt smooth leather and warmth again. The phantom sensation made her fingers curl.
A dragon, her mind whispered traitorously.
She scoffed aloud and the sound echoed in the stillness. “Get a grip.”
She wasn’t a child and dragons weren’t real. Shock did strange things to the brain. That much she knew. Fear and adrenaline could twist memories into anything.
Still…
The memory refused to fade. The thunderous beat of massive wings. The way the presence had wrapped around her, claiming without frightening, protecting without hesitation.
Her heart twisted painfully as she wondered just how hard she had hit her head.
Jakob.
His name surfaced unbidden, followed immediately by the sting of disappointment. The one time he hadn’t saved her, nor had he been there when she woke.
Of course he hadn’t been. Why would he be? He’d already helped her enough, pointed her in the right direction, and kept her safe more than she’d managed on her own.
He didn’t owe her anything.
