But she will not let me claim her. I am at a loss as to what to do.

So I return to my battle form and pace about my nest. My human tries to mend her rough, strange skins and put them back on her lower body, and then eats a few more bites of the food I have brought her. It is gone soon enough, and I am afraid to leave her side to hunt her more human things to eat.

But I cannot let her starve. Something must be done. What, I do not know. But she is my only concern.

I watch as she sags against the wall, asleep. She has been uneasy since the other dragon appeared, and only seemed to relax when I took the corpse and dumped it over the ledge and out of sight. There is still a large bloodstain and the smell of the invader everywhere I turn, and it makes me unhappy.

I do not want reminders that someone tried to murder my mate, to take her from me before I could even claim her.

I move to her side, feeling the need to hold her close once more. She does not wake, and I gently pick her up in my talons, cradling her against my scaled chest. She turns instinctively toward me, seeking my warmth, and my heart fills with pride. For once, the ravens and vultures seem very far away. It is…pleasant. Not half as pleasant as touching her, but a pleasant all its own.

I study her as she sleeps against me. She is so small and fragile, my human. The arm she has covered in strange wrappings—the “ow”—concerns me. It is clear she is injured, and I worry I have done this to her. I must be more careful than ever before, because the thought of harming her makes me sick. Her face is discolored on one side, and as I brush her hair off her face with a talon, I gaze down on her small features.

Will she ever look at me with encouragement, I wonder. Will she ever take her battle form? Or are humans too weak for such things? How can I possibly mate her if she does not invite me?

Returning her to the human hive is out of the question. Sa-cha is mine now. I say her name again, tasting it on my tongue. Sa-cha. Sa-cha. It even sounds delicate and fragile, like my mate.

Carefully, I run one claw along her good arm, caressing her. She sighs and snuggles closer against me, and I want to rumble with pleasure, except that will wake her.

It takes everything I have to remain silent. I stroke my claw down her soft skin again, petting her over and over. Touching her comforts me. It makes me feel peaceful inside my head.

And when she makes a little noise of pleasure in her sleep at my touch?

I vow that she will be mine. Whatever it takes, she will be mine, and she will make that very noise with my cock buried deep inside her as I am mounted on top of her, claiming her.

One thing is certain, though. My nest is not safe. It is too close to too many other dragons. The human hive is a magnet for our kind, and I must take my Sa-cha away from here. I will take her someplace where her scent will not carry to others.

Otherwise, she will never be safe.

 

 

7

 

 

SASHA

 

The next morning, I eye the nearly scraped clean stewpot and wonder if I’m hungry enough to scrounge for dried-on scraps. Dakh hasn’t shown any indication of leaving this morning like he did yesterday, so I wonder if I need to make the best of what food I’ve got. The little water I have left is cloudy and gross, and I strain it through my T-shirt before drinking a handful (not that my T-shirt is much better). I splash a little on my face, too, just because I feel kind of wrung out and grimy at the moment. I never thought I’d miss sleeping in our old, broken-down schoolbus back in Fort Dallas, but there I had blankets and an old mattress. Here, the only thing I’ve got is dusty floor and a dragon.

Thinking about the schoolbus makes me sad. I worry about Claudia. Did she find Amy? Did she live after the attack on Fort Dallas went south? Or did they both get re-captured by the mayor? Or…did my friends die? The thought makes me queasy. I don’t want to think about that. If I was a real friend, I’d be doing my best to try to save Claudia like she tried to save me…except I feel like I can’t even save myself.

If Dakh doesn’t remember to feed me and bring me more water, I’m in danger of dying. I’m trapped up here, and it makes me more and more nervous with every passing hour that I don’t have an escape route if something happens.

“Sa-cha.”

I turn around, surprised. It seems Dakh spends more time in his dragon form than his human one, but he’s changed on me again and is walking up to my side. It’s a little unnerving because he’s awfully naked. He moves beautifully, though, as graceful as a cat and twice as lethal as a tiger. I suspect I could watch him all day…if he wore pants. As it is right now, I avert my eyes every time his dick comes into view, because I don’t want to be caught inspecting it.

I don’t want him to get any ideas.

So I pretend to be really interested in my grubby, waterlogged sneakers that still haven’t dried out after yesterday’s dunking. “What is it?”

He moves closer—so close that his junk comes into view anyhow, eep—and leans over, trying to meet my eyes. “Sa-cha?”

I smother an awkward laugh. I suppose I deserved that. I look him in the eye. “Yes?”

He points at the windy ledge.

Immediately I panic, scuttling behind him. “Oh my God. Is it another dragon?” I’m afraid to look out from behind his shoulders, and I put my hands on his sides as if I can hold him in place like a shield.

Dakh rumbles low in his chest, and I don’t know if he’s laughing or pleased, but the sound is a happy one. He turns around and takes my hand in his, just like I did to him yesterday. Then he leads me toward the ledge.

Oh, it must be safe. I think I’m panicking because of yesterday’s unexpected visitor. “What is it, Dakh? What do you want me to see?”

He moves to the ledge and just stares out at the empty expanse of sky. I hold tightly to his hand—ignoring the fact that his fingers are tipped with claws—and gaze out, too. I see nothing but the ruins of Old Dallas in front of us, and it looks the same as it ever did. The streets are littered with wrecks of old cars, trash, and grass that has sprung up between cracks in the asphalt. Vines crawl up the buildings, and all of the skyscrapers are nothing more than shattered glass as far as the eye can see. Somewhere down below, I see a herd of cattle moving through one of the streets. It’s all familiar to me, so I scan the skies. I see nothing. It’s a clear day, the weather lovely and warm, without a cloud to be seen. The greenish-gray pulse of the Rift is in the same place it’s ever been, a jagged wound in the otherwise blue sky. “What am I looking for?” Not that I expect an answer, of course. It just feels better to say it aloud, like we’re having a real conversation. “Something specific?”