Page 19 of Dragon’s Rebel

Chapter 9

Thorne beat his wings, his heart pounding at twice its normal speed.

He was furious. That’s what this frantic stomach-clenching feeling was. Fury. Not fear. He was Draken; he wasn’t afraid of anything.

Why had she jumped off the damn roof? He almost hadn’t caught her in time. He’d also nearly stabbed her with the barbs on his tail, but he’d had no choice. It was the only part of him that was close enough to catch her.

He’d thought she’d run to him. He’d been clearing a path for her, screening her with his fire. He could have taken out any hellhounds with one swipe of his claws, and his hide would have protected her from bullets as they took off.

Why hadn’t she trusted him to protect her?

He couldn’t stop replaying the image of her falling, falling—and then her smashing to the pavement below, her soft, delicate human body damaged beyond repair.

Humans shouldn’t be allowed to dangle off buildings. They shouldn’t even be allowed to leave their lairs. They were so… breakable.

He caught an updraft and soared, giving him breathing space to curl his tail forward and transfer Rebel to his front feet, where he could carry her. He deposited her carefully in the palm of one foot, wrapping the other around her so that she was safely caged by his talons, unable to fall.

He could feel her ragged breathing, the adrenalin beating through her veins with her blood. She was shaking, and… Was that exhilaration?

What the fuck? He’d almost had a heart attack, and she was happy!

Real fury shot through him, overwhelming him with its intensity.

What the hell did you think you were doing? he demanded. Why did you jump off the roof? You could have been killed! You were almost killed!

“At least I got the serum—you’re welcome. And anyway, I didn’t know the damn hellhound was going to slice my wire.”

That was reasonable. He didn’t care. It shouldn’t have happened.

I was right there! You knew I was coming to get you. Why didn’t you just fucking stay where you were until I got there?

She didn’t say anything, but he could read her surface thoughts. What’s he yelling at me for? I couldn’t hear him talking to me. I didn’t know where he was. He could have been off having that cow snack for all I knew.

Pain stabbed through his chest. Probably from the bullets he’d taken. Certainly not from her thoughts.

But… she really hadn’t believed he would be up there watching out for her every minute? When she was risking everything trying to get a serum to help him regain his ability to shift?

No, of course she hadn’t. She didn’t count on him. She didn’t count on anyone. Rebel Smith worked alone.

How the hell were they ever going to be mates? She didn’t have to love him; he wasn’t expecting that. But she did have to trust him.

And Rebel Smith trusted no one.

Rebel sat in Thorne’s grasp, breathing slowly and deeply to calm herself down. She’d brushed it off to Thorne, but that had been close. Too close.

She could still see the ground rushing up at her, still feel death coming for her.

Now that the adrenalin high and the rush of being rescued were fading, she was starting to feel a little sick.

Don’t think about it, she told herself. Ever. She shoved it into the back of her mind, into the box where she kept all her “Oh, fuck” memories that would paralyze her if she thought about them too hard.

She wished Thorne would talk to her. She was getting uncomfortable.

Not physically uncomfortable. The skin on Thorne’s forepaws and chest was made of tiny scales and was surprisingly soft. His body was warm, and his dragon hand was cupped to make a comfortable seat, if she ignored the fact that he was essentially groping her butt.

She had protein bars in her vest, so she could replenish her energy with a snack. And she wasn’t injured—just a little bruised.

It was the brooding silence that was uncomfortable. He was furiously angry with her—she could feel it somehow, like a dark cloud surrounding them. And underneath that was something else.