For her own sanity, she had to keep her distance. But how, when the whole world had shrunk to a ruined cave and their two bodies gravitating toward each other like magnets?
Blowing out a weary breath, Ash fed the last of their wood to the dying embers. She glanced at the kebab parcel. Heck, even food wasn’t simple. It had been sitting out for a while.
A quick sniff?—
No, not funky. Who knew when she’d get to eat again in this terrifying place?
She unwrapped the parcel and held a skewer over the flames, letting the mundane task steady her when raised voices erupted outside.
Bloody hell. Are they rearranging each other’s faces again?
Skewer clenched between her teeth, she shoved into her jacket, shouldered her backpack, and grabbed the meat stick again as she sprinted for the entrance.
“…those damn mines!” Skaldr snarled as she stepped into the chilly, misty gray morning. “And you won’t?—”
He broke off when he saw her.
Tension coiled around the men like a taut spring. Race’s gaze flicked to her, lingering for just a breath before sliding away, his shutters in place. He jammed his clenched hands into his trouser pockets. The distance between them hit harder than she expected.
The clearing crackled with unspoken threats.
Attor, on her left, shifted to lean a shoulder against the black trunk, as unreadable as ever. Skaldr sat on an enormous moss-covered log nearby, his broad shoulders hunched, looking one insult away from shifting and tearing Race limb from limb.
Only Koal, lounging on a collapsed trunk to her right, appeared well removed from the brewing storm, as though none of this bothered him in the slightest. He offered her a hint of warmth with his quick, boyish grin.
Ash pasted on a polite smile, gravitating toward the least dangerous option. “Room for one more?”
“Yes.” Koal shot up and, with playful chivalry, swept an arm as if the log were a throne. “Please sit before you give us all eye strain from gaping at you.”
Smiling at his teasing, Ash took the offered spot and set her backpack down.
As she straightened, the weight of four inhuman gazes pinned her in place. A lone human in a dragon staring contest—it made her feel like a moth just before the flames closed in.
She forced herself to ignore her unease, focusing instead on eating another bite of her overcooked, leathery meat as if it were the most delicious thing in the world.
“Skewers for breakfast?” Koal teased, crouching near her. “Is that to show the rest of us savages how first meal is supposed to be eaten?”
She snorted. “I can hardly go chasing after cereal, now, can I? One, the village is god-knows-where, and it’s doubtful dragons eat wheat. Two, I know you shifters like your food still moving and bloody.”
He laughed, raking back his sun-spun hair. “You got us there.”
“Anything that doesn’t twitch is civilized today,” Skaldr muttered, lightly tracing the edges of the ripped fabric wrapped around his wounded torso. It looked a lot like the tunic he’d worn yesterday.
“You’ve made your plea. My answer’s unchanged.” Race’s voice sliced like a blade, causing the tension to simmer again.
Ash frowned at his surliness.
“Did you lose all empathy?” Skaldr surged to his feet, hands fisted. “We don’t have the luxury of wasting time, Eracier.”
For god’s sake!Before claws started flying again, Ash shot to her feet. “I’m thirsty.”
“Allow me,” Koal offered, rising as well.
“No.” Race stalked over, planting himself between them. “She’s under my protection. Let’s go.”
Attor’s low murmur cracked the quiet. “All the more reason to let her breathe, Eracier.”
Dammit. They were going to argue about her, too?
