Page 50 of Dragon’s Rebel

Chapter 22

It felt odd to Thorne, riding in Rebel’s ancient Pontiac while she drove. He was used to flying, or driving in one of the luxury SUVs he kept for the use of himself and his brothers. Rebel’s car was nothing like that. The seats were worn, with tears in the upholstery, and there were fast-food wrappers on the floor and crumbs in the cup holder.

It was as alien to him as she was. He watched her profile, calm and distant as they snaked up Germantown Road toward Skyline Drive.

Was it true she’d claimed him as her mate? He thought it would feel… different. That she would feel different. Act different.

Was any of what he remembered from last night real, or was it just more dreams?

The woman whose heat and passion and will had brought him back from the edge of death was gone. Her walls were back up, and he couldn’t tell what she was thinking.

Of course, it might be easier if all the demons of hell weren’t pounding the inside of his skull with sledgehammers. He closed his eyes as they bounced over a pothole, rattling the driver’s door and his brain at the same time.

Fucking hell.

Mate. She had said it, hadn’t she? He remembered fire, and pain, and lying with her in the dark of the spirit world. A feeling in his chest like a sunrise. Joy, soaring on wings.

He’d never soar through the sky again. The feeling in his chest turned to lead.

She looked over at him, her hand resting lightly on his arm.

“You okay, Lizard?”

“Don’t call me that!” It came out a snarl.

There was a brief silence. “Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean—”

He gritted his teeth. This wasn’t her fault. She’d saved him. “I know. Just—don’t.” It hurt too much.

She nodded, then returned her attention to the road.

A wave of dizziness swept over Thorne, leaving him feeling weak. What the hell was wrong with him? Why wasn’t being with her making him feel better?

Maybe they hadn’t bonded at all. Maybe it was a dream.

He pressed the heels of his hands against his temples. Stop hurting. Stop.

He blurted out, “Did you really tell Vyrkos we were mates?” Maybe if they were, she could heal him. Mates could heal each other, right?

She glanced over at him, her eyes cool and unreadable. “I had to tell him something,” she said. “He was claiming to be your king and your god, and commanding you to stay dragon. You were having major seizures, for fuck’s sake. I would have told him anything to get him to leave you alone.”

But it had worked. Surely only a true mating bond could have that power.

“What exactly did you say?” Had she claimed him? Had she pledged herself as his mate?

She shrugged. “Dude. I don’t remember. It’s all a blur.” She paused. “I’m just glad you made it through.”

She didn’t want to be his mate. She’d only said what she needed to say to beat Vyrkos—whatever she could think of in the heat of the moment.

Just like she’d made love to him in the heat of the moment. Because he needed her, and Rebel couldn’t help responding to someone who needed her.

That didn’t mean she wouldn’t walk away once he’d stopped needing her.

So what? he told himself. The Seal was the most important thing. Even if she didn’t have feelings for him, if they could still manage to find the Seal, it would be okay.

But his heart said differently. He felt cold, and empty. He didn’t have a mate. He didn’t have his dragon. He had no one.

He had his duty, and his mission. He tried to take comfort in that, but his head was hurting so bad he could hardly see.