Page 73 of Dream Reaper

“Neither of you cares about anyone else,” she pressed. “He just cares about his stomach. And you just care about keeping him locked up and sticking to this twisted form of duty you’ve assigned to yourself. I didn’t ask you to be responsible for me. And…and…and I relieve you of command over me!”

“You…relieve me of command?” he echoed, one brow arching imperiously. “You were never the one who gave orders. You can’t relieve me of command when you aren’t in possession of it either.”

More fire raged through her veins. “Well, you aren’t in a position to command me either. So, we’re up against a wall, then, aren’t we?”

“It would,” he said, his tone edged and dangerous, “appear so.”

It flickered into the back of her mind that he wasn’t acting like himself—he was acting more like Dragon, more obstinate than normal even for him—but then she wasn’t acting like herself either.

And she liked it.

She liked speaking her mind and letting him hear exactly what she thought of him.

“While we’re on the subject,” she continued, tossing her head back, “I think Brynja is right about you and Dragon. You’re the one who is a fool for trying to ignore him. You need to embrace who you are and work with yourself, not against yourself.”

He snorted as he eased into a sitting position. “What? Are you suddenly an expert on dragon shifting?”

“No, I’m an expert on not being stupid.”

“That’s rich coming from you.”

That heat in her veins was fanning into an inferno. How was her body so hot without her bursting into flames? Genuine flickering flames?

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean,” he said in a tone that was far too mocking, “the only logical thing for you to do is protect yourself and get out of here. Hanging around pretending you’re fighting some noble cause to help humanity is a farce. You don’t really care about these girls. You are trying to make yourself feel better.”

“You can’t know that. You don’t know how I really feel,” she spluttered, jabbing a finger into his chest. “You may not care about fighting causes to make people’s lives better, but I do. I’ve always cared. I’m a healer, and that’s what healers do⁠—”

He snorted, grabbing her hand and holding it tightly to keep her from continually jabbing her finger into his collarbone. She wrestled to free herself, so angry she could…she could⁠—

He caught her chin with his free hand and yanked her toward him, his head lowering as he pressed his mouth to hers.

She could do that. Exactly that.

His lips were firm and warm against hers, but infinitely gentle. And yet there was a hardness and desperation behind them, something…something that wasn’t him. Something that was hot and uncontrolled.

Something that could set fire to the world and burn it down. Something that made her want to burn the world down, to burn it to ashes, just to make it all stop…

The heat built inside her as Jerrid deepened the kiss, his hand shifting to cup the back of her head. She didn’t pull away because she wanted this. She wanted to catch fire and burn. She wanted Jerrid to burn with her.

She wanted the world to burn.

As her hands moved to rest on Jerrid’s tense shoulders, the first flicker of reason teased the back of her mind. She wanted to ignore it, to shove it away and live in this moment.

This here and now, where she and Jerrid burned beneath the trees.

But something wasn’t right, and the sensible part of her, the part that wasn’t being stupid, knew it. Knew that this wasn’t right. Knew that something was wrong. It didn’t feel wrong, not the way Jerrid’s mouth moved over hers as if he were memorizing the feel of her. Memorizing her herself.

But feelings sometimes lied.

The heat continued to build in her chest, the pressure tightening in her lungs, in her head…

Her eyes popped open as flames exploded from her fingertips. Moments later, something pressed into her mind, into her thoughts, intrusive and yet somehow familiar.

Flames below, what was happening? What was in her head⁠—

Hello, Meat Pasty.