Page 13 of Dream Reaper

The taste of blood in my mouth…

He couldn’t finish the thought. No. There was no way he had lost control that much. He’d only shifted for a few minutes. He was sure of it.

The thought of eating another sentient being… It was enough to make him want to retch onto the ground.

He shifted his tongue around in his mouth, relieved to discover a sore on the side of his tongue. No, the blood he tasted was his own. He must have bitten his tongue.

“What are you doing out here in the forest?”

Jerrid let his gaze shift to her and linger. “They sent me to fetch you. We didn’t know what had happened—whether you’d wandered off or…”

Her lips thinned again. “I was abducted.”

“Yes. I know that now.”

“And they sent you to do what? Eat me?” Her arms drew more tightly around her chest.

“What? No!” He struggled to push himself up onto one elbow, allowing the cloak to slide from his shoulders a couple of inches. “They sent me to rescue you.”

She flinched away from him, pressing her spine against the tree trunk. “You humans have a funny way of rescuing people. You threatened to eat me last night.”

The nausea returned with a vengeance, and he pitched to the side, body heaving as bile clawed at the back of his throat. His stomach was empty, however, and nothing came up.

With a groan, he flopped back against the ground, the trees swaying above him, the motions sickening.

“Are you unwell?” she asked, her tone slightly less harsh.

He shook his head. “I’ll be fine. I just need a minute. I…I didn’t hurt you last night, did I?”

She inhaled sharply and didn’t answer right away. “No. But for a minute I thought you’d set the tree on fire to get at me. In your other form, you’re not very nice.”

He winced and closed his eyes against the truth. She wasn’t lying. He never remembered everything he did when he was…when he was Dragon. But he remembered enough to fear and loathe that secret part of him. It was why he fought so hard to keep him chained, to keep him from escaping.

It wasn’t safe for anyone when Dragon set himself free.

“I’m sorry.”

Silence answered his apology, but he didn’t care. She had every right to be angry with him for threatening her—for endangering her life. He should have been more careful, but Talos had pushed him to the brink. He’d become so angry and lost control.

That was always when Dragon took advantage of him. When he was angry and at his most vulnerable.

And then he would wake up—wounded, bloody, exhausted—with only fractured memories of what he had done while he was Dragon.

He wondered how many new scars he would have after last night. Had he broken anything this time? He took stock of his limbs and his fingers and toes. No, everything seemed to be in working order, but his left thigh throbbed painfully.

Jerrid reached to pull aside the cloak to take a look.

“You don’t want to do that,” Ava yelped in a slightly squeaky tone.

Her gaze flickered down the length of his reclining body before flying back to meet his. Her dusky-gray cheeks darkened.

“Why?” The question snaked across his lips a second before he understood.

Heat flooded his face, and he froze, intensely aware of the cool air on the other side of the cloak, of the damp ground beneath him, the scratch of leaves and twigs against his bare flesh… Of course. He had shifted last night.

He was naked again, wasn’t he?

Blistering shades below…