“For the time being,” Ellard said.“We have no way of contacting the dragons.”
“I know.”
Ellard frowned at the place where his hand used to be.A burst of cold attached to his stinging stump and he felt as if he possessed an arm again.He blinked because there was nothing there.No arm.No fingers.But it felt…
“Dragons,” a voice whispered.
Ellard started and whirled around, his heart thudding against his ribs.“Who’s there?”A reply wasn’t forthcoming, so he made a wild guess.“Sheera.Leeam?”
Silence reigned, and he couldn’t decide if he was hearing things or not.
“Your uncle is worried about you,” Ellard said.“Your parents are desperate to find you.Everyone is searching for you.”
The voice didn’t reply, and he shrugged, turning his attention back to Gweneth.Her usually vibrant features were pale, the wound leaking blood again, and her eyes had slid shut.He stroked his thumb across one grubby but silky cheek.At least she was alive.Her breasts rose and fell with each even breath.Phrull, she looked so small, so defenseless.The weight of responsibility for her safety crushed his confidence.
“I don’t know what to do,” he whispered.
A tiny smile played around her lips until she attempted to sit upright.A groan slipped free, prodding at his insecurities.
“Don’t move.”
“Not going anywhere,” she whispered.
He stared at her, and unable to resist, he brushed a kiss on her pouty lips.She sighed, a murmur of something resembling satisfaction.Some of the weight on his chest lifted.He repeated the caress because he’d enjoyed her sigh.Then he squirmed a little because, in truth, the contact lessened his panic.He tasted her sweetness, a hint of blood.
“What would you do if Jarlath injured himself?”
“I wouldn’t kiss him,” Ellard barked out.
“Good to know.I’m sure Keira would be reassured.”
Ellard snorted, but her question had pierced his panic.If it were Jarlath, he’d assess his injuries then he’d do his best to treat him.He’d stop the bleeding.“I’m going to touch you, check for injuries.”
Gweneth opened eyes that had closed and licked her bottom lip with one slow lash of her tongue.“Sounds like fun.”
Ellard snorted again, this time the sound closer to a laugh.The woman killed him with her persistence, her charm, her love of life.“Tell me if I hurt you.”He sucked in a breath and pictured Jarlath.If he pretended this was his best friend, then maybe he’d manage the task.He started with her legs.
Jarlath.Jarlath.Jarlath.
Nope, not working, not with her warm flesh heating his hand.Slim, yet strong thighs, shapely calves.His gaze stopped on the hole in her trews.The skin beneath appeared blistered.“Is it still burning where the plant burnt you?”
“Yes, a bit.”She jumped.
“What?”He hadn’t been touching her.
“Something cold touched the burn.It gave me a fright.”
Ellard scanned their surroundings.Nothing.But even so, he thought they’d managed to stumble upon Niran’s missing people.He failed to understand their continued silence.“Is it helping?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you,” Ellard said with another glance around them to check for danger.When he saw nothing except tree trunks, he turned back to Gweneth and sucked in a fortifying breath before he touched her again.Arms next.Before he could second-guess himself, he checked her arms one at a time.She winced.“Sore?”
“A little.Bangs and bumps, I think.”
Ellard gave a curt nod and ran his hand over her torso.His fingers skimmed her breasts, and heat blasted through him like combustible rocket fuel.He swallowed and jerked his hands away.A quick glance showed distinct humor, and her white teeth tugged at her bottom lip as if to halt a smile or a laugh at his expense.
“Stop it,” he said sternly.“This is hard enough for me as it is.”
