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That doesn't sound so bad to me. I snuggle back against him, because he's warmth personified. I thought that when he shifted forms, he'd feel scaly and hard like he does in his dragon form, but his skin feels like normal skin. He's got some spikes on the backs of his arms and legs that I'll need to learn to avoid, but he's also deliciously warm, and when he presses up against me like this, I never want to move again.
Sure, we're lying on cold, uncomfortable concrete, but in the scheme of things, it seems like a small problem.
Mhal's thoughts suddenly turn dark again. There's a hard press against his mind, and then…tension. I feel it, and judging by the way Mhal makes a choked sound aloud, he feels it, too.
I pat the hand over my breast, worried. "What is it?"
The Salorian. His thoughts are strained. He is trying to take my mind again. He tries to push you away.
"What?" I struggle to sit up. What is Azar up to now?
The moment his name crosses my mind, Mhal's thoughts go black. It's like a record scratch, how quickly he moves from calm and sated to utter madness. Wild, jumbled anger floods into my mind and I'm dumped on the floor as Mhal gets to his feet. I look up at him, and he's wild-eyed, his gaze black as night. I don't feel “Mhal” there in his thoughts, either. They're empty echoes full of anger and not much else.
The chain on the door rattles, and the-dragon-that-was-Mhal picks up the scents of strangers.
Mate.
Must protect mate.
Must keep her safe.
A moment later, my vision is flooded with golden scales as Mhal shifts to dragon form. He snatches me up in his clawed grip, pressing me against his scaled breast, and flings himself into the air, flying out of the enormous hole in the ceiling of the warehouse and taking to the skies.
Must protect.
"Mhal?" I call out, worried.
There is no answer in his mind.
17
MHAL
The scents of enemies are all around us.
The stench of them stirs my frenzied thoughts, makes me push harder to get away. I fly higher, beating my wings as hard as I can, determined to ensure my mate is safe. I need to get her away from here. I need to find safe territory. If there is no territory to be found, then I must take some from another male. The scent of other drakoni males is on the wind, and I automatically circle, attuning my senses to seek the direction with the fewest scents.
I am not afraid to challenge another male for territory, but with my fragile mate in my claws, I cannot. I must get her to safety first.
Protecting my mate is everything.
Um, Mhal?
The sweet voice drifts through my chaotic thoughts. I am confused. Who are you?
Your mate? Jenny? Remember? Are you okay? A small, cool hand touches my claws.
I look down and realize I am holding her—Jenny—and she is gazing up at me with concern. She is…human. This surprises me. You are my mate?
Dude. We literally just had sex on the floor. You don't remember?
She sounds hurt. I search my thoughts, but all I find is more worry and fear. Worry that she will be taken from me. Worry that another will claim her. I must find us a nest. I must keep her safe. If my mate is human—and it seems she is—I must fight all the harder to keep her safe. Humans are fragile things.
You don't remember that I'm human? Are you…okay? You seemed better earlier but now I'm worried. She pats my scales. Put me down and let's talk, all right?
No. There is too much danger. We must get away.
But—
I push her out of my thoughts, just like I push out the other males that try to touch minds with me. They are trying to let me know I am in their territory, but I do not want to confront them. I simply want to leave. I am in battle form, but my mate is not. She is vulnerable, and so she must be the priority.
Her thoughts flare with frustration, but I force myself to ignore it. It pains me, but she will understand later, when she is safe in her nest.
I fly onward, past the cluster of old, broken rocks and stone that is the human hive. Farther out, the scents of other dragons are less distinct, and when there are no fresh scents on the breeze, I dive lower and scan for a suitable nest. Something defensible. Something with high sides, like a cliff of some kind, though I do not see one. This area is flat, with more small, squat buildings and some trees growing up through the hard rock surfaces that are covered with the strange metal squares.
A hand hammers at my claws. Am I squeezing too hard? I loosen my grip on my mate and look down at her.
