Page 23 of Dream Reaper

“There now, that’s a question I can answer, sure enough. Ava was kidnapped, and I came into the Shadewood to rescue her. You can see that she’s injured, can’t you?”

A murmur swept over the group.

“You came to rescue her of your own choice?” one of the other women asked, a stocky girl with freckles on her nose and two thick, bushy ponytails sticking out from both sides of her head. “Why would you do that?”

Jerrid shot a glance at Ava, a warning in his eyes, before he smiled at Ponytail Girl. “Ah, well, I came after her because…because she’s my wife.”

Ava went rigid as horrified gasps rippled around the group, but she managed to keep her mouth shut. She didn’t know what he was doing, but she had no choice but to play along.

“You married an elf?” Ponytail Girl asked incredulously. “Why would you do that?”

He shrugged. “For the same reason a man marries any woman.”

Another woman pushed forward, leaning over the stocky girl’s shoulder. She was older, but not much older than Ava herself. “And what reason would that be? Because she can’t give you children.”

This jab sliced deep and wedged into Ava’s heart, but she forced her features to go as blank as possible, hiding the pain behind her dullest expression.

“Perhaps not,” Jerrid said in a quiet tone that would have made her believe him under other circumstances, “but maybe that wasn’t what we wanted. I’m not elvish, you know, and we didn’t marry because of the treaty.”

“You’re trying to tell us that you wanted to marry her? That you”—the speaker, a girl with curly hair and a scar down her neck, made a gagging noise—“love her?”

Jerrid tugged at Ava’s hip and pulled her against him. Her skin prickled, but she tried to relax into his side and look like she belonged there. That she wasn’t playing a role she was ill-suited for.

“I love her,” he growled, his chest rumbling against Ava’s shoulder. “And anyone who lays a finger on her will answer to me.”

The girl with the dagger barked a laugh. “So, you’re telling us that someone kidnapped your elvish bride, dragged her into the Shadewood, and that you came after her? Who kidnapped her, then, and where is he?”

Jerrid’s arm tightened around her waist. “Now, that’s a long story.”

She bared her teeth and pressed closer, glaring up into his face. “Then you best be telling it quickly, mate.”

Jerrid’s smile widened, and he dared to look away from the girl and glance at the others. Ava stared at him, a little concerned he was about to unleash his dragon side on these poor women. Why else would he be smiling unless he thought he was about to come out on top of this strange situation?

She couldn’t let that happen.

She’d met his dragon, and she couldn’t allow him anywhere near this village. Whoever they were, whatever they were doing here in the Shadewood, they didn’t deserve the devastation of a dragon in their midst.

“Look,” she began and cleared her throat nervously, “I’m a healer. We were on a mission to find a cure for the prince. I’m sure you don’t get much news out here⁠—”

The blonde girl with the dagger snorted.

Ava let her gaze skitter over the girl’s face before flicking over the others crowded around them. “Yes, well, we were attacked by a traitor to Eroth, and I was kidnapped, and Jerrid came to rescue me. Just like he said.”

“That doesn’t explain what you’re doing in our ruins!” someone snapped.

A rumble of agreement swept through the others. Ava raised a hand in hopes of placating them. Anything to keep Jerrid and his dragon from doing something they would all regret later.

“I can explain that too. Our dragon is injured, and we need medical supplies.”

“And now there’s a dragon.” Ponytail Girl scoffed. “That’s a likely story. She sees that we’re human and wants to win our sympathy.”

“I’m human as well,” Jerrid said mildly. “If I’m not enough to reassure you that we mean no harm, I’m sure our injured dragon will convince you that we’re telling the truth. I can take you to her, if we can just have some supplies. Needles, thread, bandages…”

An explosion of protests erupted from the crowd. Ava pressed tighter against Jerrid’s back, half afraid someone would smack her with a shovel in all the confusion. His free hand moved to rest over hers, trapping it between his callused fingers and his forearm.

Somehow, it was a comforting sort of entrapment.

The thought sent her emotions spiraling in a different direction, and she wished she could pull away and put some distance between them. She didn’t want to try to interpret what those ideas might mean.