Page 17 of Ashborne: Defiance

‘Stop, Kham. Please,’ I begged my dragon, pressing one hand to my chest and rubbing the ache there. I wanted to shake my head like he had, to force off the racing thoughts and shrieking doom. But I couldn’t. He understood that—of everyone, he understood.

It was both a relief and a weight when he stopped talking and sighed heavily. But he was the best male I knew.

Without another word, he stepped forward, pressing the broad, flat plane of his nose against my chest, and breathing over me again.

I gulped at the air, begging for the healing it could bring, trembling when it only eased the physical pain of my exhausted body, yet barely touched the heightened senses and shrieking alarm of my mind.

Swallowing the panic back, I rubbed his nose, reaching up to scratch behind his eye-ridges, whispering my gratitude. Because, a black-widow Grace might be, but my dragon was a blessing from God, and I would never deny that.

I wouldn’t be here without him.

‘Remember that,’ he assured me. ‘You didn’t feel so grateful for my wisdom at the time—and yet, now we agree, do we not?’

I let my lips twist in combined apology and frustration.

Kham had found and chosen me the day I’d determined to kill myself. And as much as I’d loved him from the first moment we linked, he’d had to wage war against my inner demons to keep me alive, for months.

‘Yes. But this wouldn’t be the first time you were wrong,’ I teased. We both knew Kham was rarely wrong. About anything. Which was disconcerting, and sent my heart spinning into a corkscrew of fear and—

Shit.

‘You should go,’ I admitted. ‘This won’t stop soon. I just have to ride it out.’

‘Or, you could embrace it?’

I fought anger that he’d pressed when I’d asked him not to. But as he pulled his head back far enough to turn and look me in the eye, his attention was caught by something behind him.

His mate. She’d be in that direction. Looking for him.

He turned, nostrils flaring, ears perked, tail lashing. ‘She wakes.’

The words were pregnant with anticipation, his body quivering already. Delight and joy and thrill riding his blood. And at this proximity, I felt every shift and tingle.

I stifled a groan as his feelings swelled within me through the link. I couldn’t cut him off completely. When he was this close, he’d feel it, and he’d probably stay with me out of worry. So, I gritted my teeth and stepped back, shooing him like a cat.

“Go to her,” I said, through a set jaw. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He snorted again, but let his gaze rest on me once more, the wordless question reaching me in our link.

I shook my head. “Just go. I’ll live.”

‘I will remain near.’

‘You will be distracted, and rightly so,’ I said, trying to keep the anxiety from my tone. ‘Go. Enjoy her. I’m happy for you.’

He snorted his skepticism of that, but tossed his head, and with a squeeze of affection for me in the link, turned and slipped through the trees with his head low and neck snaking.

I gave a shaky laugh when I heard her bugle a few moments later—he’d found her already. But my stomach felt like I’d swallowed a stone.

I began to pace, shaking my head, trying to make sense of all this—and desperately trying to ignore the rising tide of need in my body.

I waited until he’d called for her, when I knew he was in pursuit, and the trees snapped and rustled with their passage again, then closed the door between us in the link, which offered a small measure of relief. But not nearly enough.

As my healthy, exuberant, delighted dragon began another mating chase, I groaned and shook out my hands. Already, my mind returned to Grace against my will. My body urging me to find her. If I gave it thought, I could sense her to the south and west. I knew if I focused on that feeling in my chest, I could turn with eyes closed and find the line that would lead me straight to her.

But that only made my anxiety ratchet higher.

Why? Why now? Why her?!