A hissing noise pricks my ears. A second later, it happens again, louder this time.
My eyes drift from the fire, searching for the source.
I see something move. A long and angular mass. It slowly gets bigger. It pauses when I move, managing to drop my head to the side. The first thing I notice is its tail-like body, it’s gaunt frame.
Not a human. I inhale. It is not the other human who was with mine from earlier. But I know this already…because of the tail.
A naga?
White and yellow eyes pierce the shadows to pin mine.
This time when I growl, a growl comes out. The naga does not flee, but it also does not come closer. I strain and flex again, urging my body to do something, anything. If the naga attacks, there will be nothing I can do to defend myself. Nagas are base beasts of the jungle, a staple of any dragon’s diet.
I taste its flesh in my memories.
The beady yellow dots of its eyes flash in the dark. I am prime food offered up on a platter. Any beast as gaunt as this one would not balk at the opportunity to engorge.
I manage to make a fist with my hand closest to it, bracing, readying it. I do not want to die, and I growl again, but the noise is not nearly as loud or as frightening as it used to be.
I wait for the attack but the naga only stares at me.
What is he waiting for?
Suddenly, the bond inside me flares up. I hear my human’s footsteps. No! My useless body goes rigid.
“Watch out,” I try to say in my human’s language, but it comes out as a gurgle. I try to move my head in her direction, but I fail.
The naga hisses once more, a warning, and then slithers back into the darkness.
“You’re awake,” my human gasps, dropping next to me with a huff. Her hands cup my face and shift my head so I might face her. My eyes linger, staying on the spot the naga disappeared.
When her face fills my vision, I am struck by her beauty. “Naga,” I warn. “Not safe.” It comes out a croak.
Her brows furrow. “Grala no safee?”
“Naga.”
She shakes her head.
I flick my eyes back to the shadows.
And she gets it, glancing up. Her lips flatten, and she pulls out a sharp weapon from her side. Pride swells. My human is brave.
She stands with her fire stick and steps over me. I lose sight of her. Fear for her safety gives me the strength to thrash my tails and lift one hand—but it thumps to the ground.
If she is hurt on my account, I will perish dishonorably. I will never forgive myself!
I claw the dirt.
I can do nothing but wait, nervous that any sound might be the last sound I ever do from her. I had only gotten a glimpse of my human. A single look. It is not enough and never will be.
Then her footsteps reappear, and relief temporarily strangles me. Her leg falls into my vision as she steps back over me and sits down to face me.
Her eyes meet mine. Dark brown orbs framed in thick black lashes with striking, arched brows.
I capture them to memory. We have only just met, and yet I am uncertain if we will live long enough to know each other.
Her eyes flicker away and peer around us, and my human cants her head. She is listening for something. For the naga I saw. Knowing it is still there bothers me greatly. I hope that it will not return until I can rise. My fingers continue to curl at my sides.
“I didn’t find anything,” she says. “But I laid out some shells and some sticks in case there is something.”
I do not understand, but she places her dagger at her side instead of putting it away. That is enough to assure me she is being vigilant.
She glances out again into the dark, and her eyes vacant as if she is lost in thought.
“I won’t leave you again unless I absolutely have to.” She looks back at me. “The cave…” She shakes her head. “We’re in a cavern of some sort, and there’s a path that leads out.” Her lips purse. I am momentarily distracted by how full and enticing they are. “There’s a path, but it goes too deep, and I was getting too far away… When you’re better, we’ll leave together.” Concern etches her face, at least what I think is concern.
She is not telling me something. Has she discovered something I do not know?
She is concerned for me.
I part my lips. “Not safe,” I say. I am concerned for her too.
“Not safe?” she asks.
Yes! I groan in agreement.
Her head drops. “You can understand me,” her voice lowers. “I’ll protect us until you’re well. It seems this cave is deserted.”
Deserted? Frustration spikes.
“Why can’t you move?” she asks. “Did I… cause this when I fell on you?”
Fell on me? I hmph. No human would pass up the opportunity to steal a dragon. But then I remember her presence, how she’d explored me before I transformed, how she did not bind me at the first opportunity.
The naga did not attack me either.
Has Venys changed so much? Have the creatures gone mad?
Her gaze steadies on me. She is waiting for me to answer. What should I tell her? I do not want to share my shame. That I was struck by a lesser dragon, that I was brought down? That I allowed a human to touch me without putting up a fight…
For some reason I am not as bothered by that, not as I should be… not as I was before it happened. I am waiting for her to touch me again,
