Ash gawked at him. She opened her mouth, shut it, then tried again. “I’m twenty—nearly twenty-seven. You’re immortal?”
“Aye.” A faint smile touched his mouth. “And you’re a mere babe, vixen.”
“That name’s irritating,” she grumbled, stomping through the underbrush, trying to make sense of what he’d just revealed. She wheeled back, and her boot caught on a hidden root?—
“Eeep!”
Strong arms caught her before she faceplanted. Her heart slammed against her ribs, her palms instinctively flattening against his bare chest. God, he was so warm. Solid.
Her fingers dug into his skin, she dragged in a shaky breath, and his scent hit her fully—burnt ember edged with ice—it flooded her lungs and stirred her senses. Ash looked up.
His claret stare darkened with an intensity so visceral she swore it felt as if he were touching more than just her back, and a thread of desire slid through her. His nostrils flared, then she was freed.
Ash rubbed her arms, trying to shake off the sudden rush of lust.What the bloody hell was that?
“Yes, I am that old,” he said as if the moment had never happened.
“So,” she murmured, “dragons lived here?”
Brilliant save, Ash. Ugh.
“No, entire clans of non-shifters did.” He gestured toward the abandoned cave. “But the dragons drove them out when the wardlines came into being.”
She frowned. “Because they couldn’t shift, they were cast aside?”
“Yes.” He stepped away, boots crunching on red pine needles and gravel, his gaze lifting to the trees. “The dragon lord who ruled these lands was all about the species thriving and a divider. Anyone without a shift, he saw as below par.”
“Yeah. We’ve got those kinds everywhere. Xenophobes,” Ash said, too aware he kept moving, widening the space between them.
Because she’d fallen against him? He was the one who grabbed her.
Well, if he wanted to play knight to her clumsiness, entirely his problem.
Ash stepped carefully over a twisted root that looked far too much like a claw and sat on a boulder near the cave mouth. “Just so we’re clear, if something crawls out of the shadows, I’m setting it on fire.”
He turned. “Don’t. Drawing attention out here is a bad idea. I won’t be long.”
She braced her forearms on her thighs, trying not to show her fear at being left alone in this dark, dangerous world?—
Oh, bugger this!
“I’m coming, too.” She bolted to her feet. “I refuse to wait around, be a sitting duck for your enemies to find again.”
He rubbed a hand over his chest, and her traitorous gaze followed the movement. Her fingers curled at her sides. Jesus, but he was tall. Even barefoot, the top of her head barely reached his chest—and she’d always thought five-eight made her tall.
He lowered his hand, a tic working in his jaw. “You do realize I’ll be hunting, yes? That means killing.”
“Stop trying to scare me.” She glared. “It won’t work. Not after I faced your terrifying she-dragons.”
“They aren’t mine.” His mouth thinned. “Very well. If you insist on coming, step quietly.”
Seriously? Did he think she would waddle around like an unwieldy baby elephant, thrashing noisily?
They walked deeper into the forest until moonlight barely reached the ground. The air grew thick with the scent of sweet pine and something older. Earthy. Wilder.
Race moved like he belonged to the dark.
Ash trailed along in silence, questions colliding in her mind. Why did he no longer live in his world, and what was he embroiled in now?
