Page 76 of Dream Reaper

An idiot.

“Enough,” he ground out between his teeth as he shoved himself to his feet and backed away. “That’s the last time, I swear…”

He began to throw up walls in his mind as he stalked in circles around the clearing, one hand pressed against the side of his head as he battled to ignore the frightened bellows from his dragon. No more escaping. No more threatening to eat people. No more interrupting kisses.

Dragon was never getting out again.

What are you doing, you stupid, stupid, stupid⁠—

“What I should have done a long time ago! I’m locking you up for good!”

“Don’t,” Ava called out at the exact time Dragon roared a panicky, Please stop!

No, he wasn’t going to stop, because this—whatever this was the three of them were doing—had to stop. It had to be over. Because if Dragon had his way, Ava was going to get killed.

That’s not what⁠—

“We are going to get her killed!” he snarled.

Silence answered him as he threw up another wall, and another. A box. That’s what he needed to do. He needed to create a box with four sides and a top and a bottom. And then he needed to put Dragon into that box, and he needed to throw away the key. No, he wouldn’t even make a key. This would be a box without a key or a door or an escape.

A prison even they couldn’t escape from.

“You,” Jerrid muttered, holding his head in both hands. “A prison even you can’t escape from.”

He was doing this for Ava.

Doing it…for yourself⁠—

But Dragon’s whispered words broke off as Jerrid slammed the lid down on his box. He imagined sealing it on all sides, the way a blacksmith soldered metal together. Heating the seams until they disappeared. Until the box was secure.

And his thoughts went silent.

His head was so quiet.

Jerrid lifted his head, squaring his shoulders. Ava stood across the clearing in a ray of moonlight, her mouth rounded and eyes huge. He didn’t care. It didn’t matter what she thought of him. He was doing this to protect her. From himself, from Dragon, for all the complications that they had brought into her life. He was going to get her home, somehow.

Even if it meant gutting his own soul in the process.

And he did indeed feel gutted.

“We should go back to the camp,” he said, barely recognizing his own voice as he walked toward her.

She shrank away from him when he offered her his hand. He let his fingers fall and rest against his thigh. He didn’t blame her. Not really. It was better this way. Better he keep his distance. That was how he would protect her. How he must protect her.

Being alone wasn’t such a bad thing. It was actually really nice, the silence.

But his heart shriveled a little as Ava sidled past him and headed back toward the camp at just shy of a run. It was better this way, but…it hurt. It hurt a lot. If Dragon were still able to hear him, he’d be sniggering right now for sure. Jerrid strained his ears, half hoping to catch a hint of him in the background, enjoying himself.

But no, only the silence remained.

Jerrid’s feet felt like heavy stones on the bottom of his legs as he followed Ava back into the encampment. Even here, it seemed unusually quiet. Too quiet.

Dangerously quiet.

“Ava…” he began, but his warning came too late.

There, across from the bonfire, a familiar figure stood in the circle of firelight. He held a woman in his arms—Roar’s mother, if Jerrid remembered correctly. Dark-gray arms trapped her, a dagger pinned tightly against her throat.