As I watched her struggle, my chest swelled with pride. She was a fighter, even when hope seemed lost. At that moment, I vowed to myself that I would do everything in my power to win her heart, to prove that this dragon was worthy of her love.
Fight,I said in my mind, pushing the thought out to her.Fight with all you have.
The man's eyes widened with disbelief and terror as he took in my towering form. Then he quickly narrowed them into slits of malice as he raised his weapon and fired.
The crack of the gun was a pinprick against the roar of my blood. His attempt to wound me was laughable, the bullets pinging harmlessly off my scales like hailstones against granite. The audacity of his act only pissed me off more. Rage thundered through my veins.
With a bellow that shook the ground and surrounding trees, I lunged forward and sliced my claws across the man's chest.
I became an avatar of vengeance, each swipe of my talons a painter's stroke on a canvas of carnage. The man shrieked, a sound that was swiftly snuffed out as I clamped my jaws around him, crushing bone and sinew. His body gave way beneath the relentless force of my might; what was once human reduced to nothing more than a grotesque mound of flesh and gore staining the gravel beneath me.
The coppery scent of blood filled the air. As the red haze of my bloodlust began to dissipate, the icy grip of reality seeped back into my consciousness.
I approached the dilapidated cabin with a predator's silent grace. My nostrils flared at the scent of pine and terror that clung to the air like morning mist. The window was a mere human's breath away, and through the grimy glass, I saw her, my mate.
She lay amidst the splintered remains of a wooden chair that she must have broken in order to escape. Her fiery hair was a contrast against the drab floorboards. With each determined twist and pull, she loosened her bonds. Her spirit, unyielding as the mountain stone, refused to be caged. A surge of pride warmed my chest even as the ember of my rage cooled. She was resilience incarnate; she was mine.
As she worked at the ropes, I glimpsed her face, pale and drawn yet etched with an inner strength that spoke of untold trials and triumphs. My heart clenched. In my fervor to protect, what horror had I wrought upon her? The sight of me, a creature of myth and nightmare, must have been a terror all its own.
Realization pierced the smoky remnants of my anger. I had revealed myself in the most primal form, and now, the bond I yearned to forge might be forever marred by fear. How could I hope for tenderness when I had introduced myself as a beast?
With this truth heavy upon my shoulders, I unfurled my wings, feeling the cool mountain air caress the heated scales of my underbelly. It was time to retreat, to don the guise of a man—the only form in which I could offer comfort rather than inspire dread.
I launched into the sky, flight swift as a shadow fleeing the dawn. The wind whispered apologies to the trees below, carrying my silent vows to right the wrongs of this day.
The cave greeted me as an old friend, its dark maw a refuge from the havoc I'd sown. Shifting back to my human form was a release and a confinement. My skin was too tight after being in dragon form for the past ten years. It was necessary. I pulled on the clothes my sister had left—a simple gesture of foresight that now felt like salvation.
Outside, my motorcycle gleamed dully in the fading light. I straddled it, not bothering with a helmet. I was immortal, after all. I fired the bike to life and sped down the dirt road toward the cabin where I left my mate.
Chapter 4
Erin
Holy fuck.Shit. That was a dragon.
My head swam as I tried to understand what I was seeing. A dragon outside. Shit, shit. I had to escape this chair. Adrenaline surged as I rocked back and forth, harder and harder, faster and faster. The chair's legs creaked in protest before finally collapsing beneath me with a splintering crack. The ropes around me loosened, and I clawed at them frantically until my wrists were free. A scream threatened to rise in my throat, but I bit it back. It was quiet outside. Hopefully, the dragon had left. If it was gone, I could escape. If I screamed, I was fucked.
Royally.
As slowly as I could, I pushed open the cabin door, freezing when it creaked. I crept through the smallestopening in the door I could and scanned my surroundings.
Trees were uprooted, bushes torn asunder, and deep gouges marred the earth as if clawed by an unseen leviathan. In the midst of this chaos was my abductor, reduced to little more than a crimson smear on the landscape. I didn't even see his head and his body…
"Shit." My stomach churned, bile rising like a bitter tide. This wasn't just gruesome, it was otherworldly. How could any human wreak such havoc? His body was just a pile of bloody pulp. The dirt road around him, the yard in front of the cabin, was gouged, cratered like a bomb had gone off.
A bomb. That had to be it. It had been a bomb, not a dragon. That fucker had drugged me at some point. I felt good now, but likely it was a short-lasting drug. In my drug-addled mind, the bomb going off had been a dragon saving me and ripping my captor to pieces.
A stiff wind whipped through the shredded foliage, carrying with it the coppery scent of blood. It was as if the very air mourned the violence wrought upon this once-serene clearing.
I forced myself to move. I resisted the compulsion to acknowledge what lay in every splatter and shard around me. I'd escaped the chair and the cabin, but not the nightmare.
Then the truth hit me hard—I was alone now, truly alone. No family to turn to, no Nathan next door to offer solace or protection. The weight of my isolation bore down on me, heavier than the dense forest air.
But I couldn't collapse under it. I had to be strong. Strong like I was when I fled Chicago, when I survived the mob's relentless pursuit. When I carved out a new existence here in Stock Creek among strangers who never fully accepted me. If I could do all that, I could survive this too.
Taking one last lingering look at the carnage, my gaze fixed on a metallic glint amidst the visceral wreckage.
Holy shit. The asshole's keys. They were in a pile of blood and something pulpy. Gross. Nausea roiled in my stomach. As fast as I could, I darted back into the cabin and looked around. The one-room building had little inside, but I was in luck. With trembling hands, I reached for a faded checkered towel that hung innocently over the rusted-out old sink. Now, it would serve as a barrier between my skin and the remnants of the man who'd wanted me worse than dead.
