Page 59 of Red Dragon’s Flame

So basically she was being a coward. Taking the easy way out, shoving him away.

That wasn’t fair, she realized. He was a good man—the best person she’d ever known—and he deserved to know how she felt about him.

And… what if he did love her? Or could learn to? Did she really want to just sit alone in her computer room all her life, thinking about what she might have had?

She had to be braver than that.

She found Mikah where she’d known he’d be—near his hoard, in his magical VR room. He already had it running; the force-field thingy was in place. She wondered if she’d be able to get in while it was in progress.

Devon went over to the workbench where Mikah kept his game disks. The hoard hummed softly when she entered, and she touched some pieces here and there. “Hi,” she said shyly. “I came to make him feel better.”

That got a louder hum—apparently the gold still approved of her. Did that mean that Mikah didn’t hate her?

She picked up the game disk and stuck it to her skin under her shirt. Then she walked over to the force field wall, took a deep breath, and stepped through.

She found Mikah right away, just by thinking about him. He was in stone arena, alone, fighting a minotaur—head of a bull, body of a man. She’d entered the game at a small side entrance to the cave, out of his sight.

He and the minotaur were the same size, evenly matched, but Mikah—Starthrower—was fighting with an intensity she’d never seen from him before.

A killing intensity. Bit by bit, wound by wound, he chipped away at the minotaur. He was covered in sweat and bleeding from dozens of tiny wounds himself—like this wasn’t the first opponent he’d faced.

He got the minotaur at a disadvantage, hamstrung him and then delivered the killing blow when it hit the floor.

But instead of taking a rest, he immediately went into a fighters ‘ready’ stance.

An ogre appeared from a larger opening in front of Mikah—one and a half times Mikah’s height and bulk. He defeated that one too, after a lengthy battle that opened some painful wounds.

Another monster came out. Devon tried to get around to Mikah’s side of the arena, to fight alongside him, but the game wouldn’t let her.

She watched him take the monster out, and then another and another.

Her stomach clenched harder and harder with each one. Why wouldn’t the game let her help him?

Because he’d set it only for opponents, she realized. Because he felt like he was fighting every battle alone, and he needed to win.

Only it wasn’t helping.

Finally, when he defeated the next monster, she thought herself to the opponents’ entrance and stepped into the ring.

Mikah gazed at her, his stance never relaxing.

“Shadowfire,” he said. “Look who’s stalking who, now. Did you come to finish what you started, out there in the woods?”

Finish what she started. Wounding him.

But maybe that’s what they needed. To get all their anger out in the open, so they could finally face what was underneath it.

She said, “I came to fight.”

He said softly, “Then let’s fight.”

They drew their swords and started the battle.

In her game persona, she was shocked to see she was a match for him. Blow for blow, block for block, parry for parry.

Cut for cut.

She knew the game wounds weren’t real, but they hurt just the same. And she knew she was hurting him. But she felt like she had to do this—had to show him she was strong. That she was a partner, not a pathetic mess to be taken care of.