I need to scare her away.
I tense, strain my muscles, but nothing happens. Not even the twitching of my nostrils builds into something more. The tap of human footsteps punctures the silence, and pressure strangles my insides. Furor fills me, replacing the annoyingly delectable human scent, and my mind continues to roar.
I will not be human, I bellow.
I will meet the darkness as the mighty beast I am.
5
A Big, Dead Dragon
My foot aches, but it goes ignored as I stare at the—the giant monster before me. My breaths are shallow, my throat tight, and blood rushes from my face.
I want to scream for Haime, I want to run, but I do neither, waiting for the beast to rise and eat me whole. This wasn’t just a forgotten cave—or a naga’s nest—that Haime stumbled upon. It’s a den.
A dragon’s den.
My eyes water as I stare at the muscles and meaty curves of the beast. Minutes pass as my heart races, waiting for death, praying Haime is far away and hidden, when it occurs to me the dragon’s crooked leg hasn’t so much as twitched. The gleam of my torchlight glints, but the light does not shift upon its glistening scales.
It’s not moving.
It’s not even breathing.
Is it… is it dead?
As the thought takes over my mind, I remember what I’m staring at: a dragon. My back straightens, and my breathing eases. If it tried to attack Haime or me, it would’ve done so by now, and if it had… all I had to do was touch it to save us. That doesn’t mean the beast isn’t dangerous, but the realization gives me relief anyway.
Come to think of it, I could reach out and touch the dragon now. I’m not even an arm’s length away.
I could claim it.
I frown, glancing down at my foot that had rammed into it, curling my aching toes. My sandal shielded my body, but even if it hadn’t, would such a clumsy touch bond me and this dragon together?
I try to think back at all that happened to Aida when she encountered Zaeyr the first time. She touched his wing. Her touch had been deliberate.
Right?
Licking my lips, my eyes rove the shadowy mass. My skin prickles. It still hadn’t made a noise, still hadn’t moved, and the longer my thoughts whirl, the more I believe it has to be dead. Fate wouldn’t bind me with a dead thing, would it? And the touch of my foot hadn’t been deliberate, but then again, I don’t think my skin made contact.
Did the skin need to make contact? My brows furrow. That was a question I didn’t have an answer for.
I’m not even sure it’s male, but what if it is…
I bite down on my tongue.
Why am I even thinking of this? I take a step back. The last eight years flash through my head. The pain, the want, the envy.
The red comet, the dragons, the very few males remaining in the tribes of the Mermaid Gulf. The days upon days, months upon months, years of wishing I would have a male of my own—a family of my own. I never cared about power or being a matriarch. I loved hunting and teaching the young daughters of Sand’s Hunters how to protect themselves and provide for others—but I desperately always wanted one for myself. A daughter of my own. A little girl who would curl up under my arm, snuggling with me as we gazed upon the crackling fire in the safety of my hut.
A babe to hold against my chest and stare up at me with wide-eyed wonder. A beautiful child who I could call my own, that no one could ever take away from me. I never knew how badly I wanted to be a mother until I matured and began training the girls younger than me. Now, they are all older, huntresses themselves, and I’m enveloped with pride every time I see them.
But they go to their mothers when in need, not me.
No, consideration for the tribe matriarch and a mate were taken from me and my sisters when Aida and Delina were born. There were more males in their ancestry.
I swallow, staring at the giant hind leg of the dragon without really seeing it anymore. And it is a giant leg. Though laid out and crooked, the bend of the knee comes to my chest. I squeeze the handle of my dagger, distracting my hand.
I’m desperate to reach out and touch the beast. Eight years ago, I would’ve done so without hesitation.
My fingers shake.
What harm would it do if it’s dead? A self-deprecating laugh runs through my mind. Everything I have always wanted is right before me, yet not.
Taking a step back, I move my torch around, trying to figure out how large the dragon really is instead. But the darkness is thick, and its body goes well above my head and into the cave ceiling. Cocking my head, I discover that the dragon has been here so long that the cave has partially formed atop it.
Maybe that’s how it died?
How long has this creature been here? I pull my bottom lip into my mouth.
Carefully moving along its side, I follow its length, dazzled by its scales. They gleam deep purple and black—I have never seen colors of the like in the wild. I want to covet them. And strangely enough, it seems a deep, shadowy smoke emanates from them, dimming out my torchlight, but when I try to take a better look, the smoke dissipates, making me wonder if I’m seeing things. I shake my head and continue on.
There are spikes and long claws but I refuse to dwell on them. I want to see its face, look at it head-on, capture its mightiness in my mind so I can remember this forever. My heart bleeds, longing for this dragon to be mine—my mate—my lover.
My throat tightens.
Zaeyr, Aida’s dragon, is the most virile and attractive male along the Mermaid Coast, only
