There are two other males in the tribe, but while they are far from young, they are not considered elders. Milaye’s father and another, each produced only female children. Oled, Nata’s son (and one of the very few males born here in the last generations) was sent to Shell Rock many, many years ago to keep the bloodlines pure. Shell Rock is where Leith was born and his elder sister, my best friend Issa, will one day become matriarch.
“Sit, Aida,” Nata tells me. I drop to my knees with a winded sigh. I’m too tired to care about anything except what they say and getting back to Zaeyr. Nata’s brow furrows, and she hands me a loaf of bread and cheese. I bite into it with gusto. “You know why you’re here,” she asks.
I swallow. “Yes.”
“You brought a strange male into our caves,” Tabach says. “A male with substantial life-threatening wounds we’ve been told.”
I set the bread down. “He’s healing. His wounds are almost gone now. He’s awake.”
The elders glance at each other. “How?”
But before I can answer, they argue.
“Is it true he’s a dragon transformed? Are the rumors true? Awake you say?”
Nata quips. “Dragons haven’t been seen in these lands since before I was born!”
“If he’s a dragon, will he harm us?” Drea’s croaky voice stops the others.
Holding up my hand, I try to answer, but Tabach levels me with a look. My father and I don’t speak often; in fact, he’s only a father to me in name. But when we do talk, I’m intimidated.
He may be old, but he’s still strong, and his voice still holds that strength.
“Daughter, did you encounter a dragon in the storm and touch him?” he asks.
“Yes, I did.”
Silence descends as their gazes fall on me with wonder.
“What happened?” Nata inquires.
Inhaling, I tell my father and the others what happened, starting from the bridge to the dragons clashing on the beach… But after that, I keep some of the details to myself. They don’t need to know about the overwhelming sensations I get whenever Zaeyr and I touch. Or my obsession with him that only grows and grows…
Even now, with thick hides and yards between us, I feel him as if he’s sitting beside me. I know he’s not, but I’m colder now sitting next to a fire then when my body was warm next to his.
The elders glance between each other again.
Father faces me. “The messenger that came from the north mentioned a bond… Have you… are you bonded?” he trails off.
Flushing, my chest tightens. “I-I don’t know.” I don’t want to tell them. I can’t lie, though. If I mate Zaeyr—which almost already happened—they’ll all know that there is something between us. “There’s something, something that happens when I’m near him.” I gulp.
Nata squints. “Which is?”
“My body grows very warm and comforted in his presence.” It’s not the entire truth but it’s enough. That I’m wet and achy between my legs and half my thoughts are about finding relief—that I keep to myself.
“Do you think he feels the same?”
“I don’t know. I’m not sure I’m comfortable asking…”
“He speaks our language?”
I nod.
“Hmm,” Drea grumbles, rubbing her chin. “If he is unmated, I wonder if he would accept a female from our tribe and join with us.”
My chest squeezes painfully.
Tabach interjects. “We would like to meet him. You say his wounds are healing and he’s awake. Do you think he is strong enough to face us?”
I open my mouth to answer when the tent flutters behind me, and there’s a chorus of collective gasps.
Zaeyr’s voice resounds before I can twist around. “I am strong enough to face anything, let alone humans.”
He doesn’t think much of us. My hands ball into fists. But he moves to stand behind me and when I look up at him, his gaze flashes hot and heavy towards me before pinning the elders. My back straightens as the rush of heat returns. Holding in a gasp, it’s almost too much.
My mother rushes in behind him. “I’m sorry! I tried to stop him!”
“It’s okay, Shyn.” Tabach coughs, rising slowly to his feet to welcome Zaeyr by the fire. Shyn goes to his side to help him. “Please join us—” he hesitates “—dragon, and sit.”
“No.”
10
Sleeping with Dragons
It seems like half the morning has gone by before I’m able to leave the tent. I’m a shaking, confused mess.
Hoping to question Zaeyr in private, the elders asked me to leave on several occasions, but Zaeyr refused to stay without me. After the third time trying, they stopped.
Milaye’s sisters are long gone by the time we emerge and have been replaced by others with spears and bone knives. Zaeyr grips my arm, making the female guards tense, but nothing happens when I allow him to lead me away. Stumbling from exhaustion, he catches me and keeps me upright, making me lean into him for support.
I hate how good it feels.
But I sense my father’s scornful gaze on my back as we leave.
Despite all our time talking, the elders refused to accept there’s a bond between us. And because Zaeyr would not say one way or another, he left me alone to justify my body’s dire response to him while they talked and talked. It hurt. I hurt.
At least he refused to leave my side, even when Drea offered him a place in our tribe and a mate of the elder’s choosing, promising peace between our species and for children bred from his loins.
Zaeyr made it clear—shockingly, embarrassingly so—that he would take who he pleases, and no one, let alone meddling old humans, would tell him otherwise.
The elders don’t like their power denied.
They didn’t so much as look at me, mention me, or bring me up at all except for his transformation. It was as if I wasn’t even there, wasn’t even considered…
I don’t get it. What have I done?
We enter the main cave, and I look around to see half the tribe is gone, fires burnt out, and those who remain
