“Fitting,” she murmured. The pale resin shimmered faintly, sticking to her fingers. She bent and wiped the residue onto the damp moss.
Then his words registered.
She jerked upright. “Wait. What do you mean, more will come?”
His gaze shifted back to hers. “You are what dragons call a Storm Summoner. Like Spellcasters, they’re rare. With you hurting that she-dragon, the tale will spread. A human with that power?” His voice hardened. “Priceless. The stronger males will do anything to own you—and the power you carry.”
“And the females will kill me because I’m competition—competition!” She exhaled sharply. “Brilliant.”
“It will never happen. Let’s keep moving. Higher ground. The altitude will mask your scent.”
“Just what I need, even thinner air.”
One corner of his tempting mouth quirked. “At least you’ll survive.”
She huffed, picked up her coat, and tied it around her waist. “You really know how to show a girl an exciting time, don’t you, dragon man?”
His gaze darkened, that predatory edge sharpening. “Just say the word, little vixen.”
Heat flooded her face, pooling low in her core. Clearly, her body hadn’t gotten the memo. He was off-limits.
So, she did the only thing she could.
She glared.
And he smirked, as if he’d won something.
Impossible man.He was playing with her.
“C’mon.” He picked up her things and drew her close. This time, she shut her eyes as he dematerialized them—the sensation of leaving her stomach behind took hold—and then she was back on solid ground.
“Good Lord,” she groaned, clutching his shirt. “I don’t know how you stand this way of traveling.”
He steadied her with a hand on her arm. “I’m used to it.” His gaze searched hers. “You okay?”
Ash nodded, too wrung out for a comeback. She dragged in a breath and stepped back.
Race scanned the forest, nostrils flaring. He started walking. “Be careful. The paths here are treacherous.”
She shuffled after him. They climbed in silence, the steep terrain forcing them to pick their way carefully between slick mossy rocks and gnarled roots. Race moved ahead with his usual predatory grace, never more than an arm’s length away, close enough to catch her if she stumbled.
And given her jelly legs, she probably would.
Even back at uni in the States, hiking with friends through Big Bear in summer, she’d never struggled like this—every step a negotiation with gravity.
He pushed aside the massive elephantine ears of the towering plants, and she ducked under, but droplets of water coated her face, and even her tunic grew damp in the perpetual mist, as they continued.
Ash panted, the sound loud enough to awaken the dead.Lovely.
His head turned her way. “You okay?”
“Peachy…” Her thighs burned, her lungs screamed in the thin air. “Thirsty.”
And the glimmer of amusement she was beginning to like, but didn’t appreciate right then, surfaced. He stopped, tilted his head, listening.
Her gaze wandered over the sharp lines of his face, those ridiculously long dark lashes that didn’t match his silver hair. Well, he did have streaks of ebony threaded at the front?—
Her lungs jammed up when his dark gaze caught hers—his stare slamming straight into her chest, leaving her feeling as if there wasn’t enough air in the forest.
