We’re all still sitting in that pocket of torrential rain. The dragon blinks at me, slowly. I shift, and Gigi obligingly stands so I can slip past her. The combat mage doesn’t take her eyes off the creature pressed against the window, though.
Bellamy cracks into the last claw of her crab, feigning indifference, though I can feel her gathering essence to her. Apparently, she’s used the last three months to figure out how to pull power without shedding her blood or the blood of her victims. Good.
Offering the host a slight smile that doesn’t do anything to ease her terrified, wide-eyed gaze, I cross to and through the front door. I can only get the door open far enough to shimmy through it, but the dragon shifts back enough from the building that I can walk alongside it.
I probably shouldn’t touch him without explicit permission, but I can’t help but run my hand along his long body as I make my way to his head. Those huge amber eyes fix to me. Essence roils under my palm, and though I’m still mostly under the eaves of the building, rainwater slicks the dragon.
The beast shuffles farther back, bowing his huge head over me as I continue to peer up at him, eye to eye. Well, both my eyes to one of his.
His left antler has been snapped off at the base. I reach up, and he bows his head enough that I can touch the puckered but healed skin surrounding what should be the jagged edges of the antler. It’s been smoothed over, as if Rath had someone sand it down so he wouldn’t inadvertently hurt anyone while it regrows.
Not anyone … me.
Because the other intact antler is still a deadly weapon. And I might be the only person Rath might want to approach in a nonaggressive manner while in his dragon form.
I slide my hand down until I’m pressing my palm to his face, raising the other hand to mirror the first. The dragon peers down at me. The rain dripping from him falls on my upturned face like tears.
“Hello, mate,” I whisper. Then I press my body into him, holding as much of him to me as I can reach. So mostly his neck and a little of his chest.
The dragon rumbles agreeably, tucking me under his chin. That noise, and the essence captured within it, vibrates through me. And I realize how grounded I feel, how safe. This creature of wind and air, of rainstorms and foggy mornings, feels like home.
I’m not certain I’ve ever known what home actually feels like. I can sense the dragon’s power, but I can also feel how we connect on a fundamental level as we stand chest to chest. The soul bond is a pool of warmth between us.
“I was so worried,” I whisper. “When I saw you fall and I had no idea if you were hurt. Let’s try to not do that again, okay?”
The dragon rumbles, sounding just a little pissed. And of course, I know his perspective of those events — me getting kidnapped — so I understand the change in tenor.
Unfortunately, the essence that underlies that pissiness also vibrates against the glass window behind me, reminding me of our audience — all the vulnerable people in the restaurant just trying to enjoy a nice meal. Injury by celestial dragon, intentional or not, would be seriously bad for the business that Rath has just reopened.
I step back from the dragon, pressing my cheek to his face and whispering playfully, “Are you hunting me?”
Energy sparks behind his eyes, something smug about the expression.
“Oh?” I tease, easing back another step. “Think you’ve caught me?”
Those huge amber eyes narrow.
I meet Cay’s gaze through the window, offering her a smile so she knows, and can tell the others, that I’m okay.
Then I take off.
The dragon might be a great hunter from the sky, but unless he wants to destroy the cars in the lot as well as part of the building, I’m quicker than him on two human feet. For a moment, anyway.
Still radiating warmth and comfort, the soul bond stretches between us. Then it abruptly cinches tighter, as if the dragon is attempting to pull me back to him through that thick rope of universe-forged essence.
But as the universe already knows and likely despairs of on a continual basis, I’m not so easily wrangled.
Instantly soaked within the localized thunderstorm, I race through the cars in the parking lot, running for the short set of stairs that lead to the beach. After stumbling a few steps through the still-soft sand — the rain hasn’t fully penetrated the ground yet — I yank off my shoes. I run full tilt in the opposite direction from the resort and the restaurant.
The tide is higher than before, forcing me to zigzag through the pilings under the front of the restaurant, splashing through the long eddies of the surf. The water is only ankle high, but I really don’t want to get caught by a rogue wave and dragged out to sea.
The cu-sith is nowhere to be seen. Thankfully, as I don’t need him joining this hunt. Though having a mythical grim reaper randomly wandering the neighborhood isn’t a great alternative.
I keep running. My breathing is ragged, my hair and dress soaked through.
The dragon comes for me. But the beast hasn’t bothered with twining around cars or pylons. Instead, he’s taken to the air, then the sea.
The massive celestial dragon rolls out of the thundering surf on my right, shooting up onto the beach to block my path.
