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“It’s Reece,” I say, out of breath.
Instantly, the darkness lifts from Wilson’s face and is replaced with complete concern. Wilson is a good leader. He might be emotional at times – we all can – but he’s got a good heart at his core.
“Reece?” He says. “What’s wrong, Nicole?”
“He tried to...” I pant. “Hurt me. Lee....is with him.”
“Where?”
“Bakery.”
“Get Cameron,” he says, and immediately, he shifts into his dragon form, tearing his clothes and taking off. I don’t wait to catch my breath, I just start running toward Cameron’s house, wondering how this next confrontation is going to go. Reece needs some serious help. There’s no doubt about that. Then again, don’t we all?
Reece came looking for blood. He didn’t get it. I saw enough of what happened to know that Lee wasn’t hurt when he came barreling through the side of the building. It was the first time I’ve seen Lee in his dragon form, though, and it was incredible.
Beautiful.
Wonderful.
I don’t want to admit just how fucking gorgeous he really was. Even after this time living with Fablestone, I can’t believe how lovely the dragons are in their true forms. I was always under the impression that shifters, albeit big and wonderful, were more wild than pretty.
Now I know they can be both.
My lungs hurt as I run toward Cameron’s house. I hope he’s home. He should be. He spends as much time as possible with his mate and baby. While I know that
I run, trying to ignore the glares cast my way as I hurry to Cameron’s home. There are dragons walking around, going about their business, and for a brief second, I think about telling them to run to the bakery to help Wilson and Lee, but that’s not what Wilson asked of me.
He wanted me to get Cameron, so that’s what I’ll do.
Maybe he knew it would be difficult to keep things quiet. He probably doesn’t want Reece ostracized for this outburst. Besides, I know perfectly well that these dragons can’t stand me. I know perfectly well how they feel about me. They probably think that if Reece captured me or hurt me, it would just be one less human to stress or worry about. Still, none of that matters right now. They’re just going to have to get over it.
At least, that’s what I tell myself as I focus on moving forward one step at a time.
So I run.
Pound.
Pound.
Pound.
My feet hit the road one step at a time. The sound seems to echo as I move toward Cameron’s house. After what seems like an eternity, I reach it and stop just outside the door. Panting. Out of breath. Suddenly, I’m realizing I should have been spending the last few months working out instead of sulking because I’m definitely no match for a shifter. Hell, at this pace, I probably couldn’t outrun a slow dog.
I head up to the front door and knock three times, staring at the wood panel in front of me. It’s a lovely house: one that Cameron chose carefully. It’s no secret that he is Wilson’s second-in-command, and his lovely home reflects that. It’s big enough to start a family in, big enough for guests. It’s beautiful, and if I wasn’t in such a hurry to reach Cameron, I’d probably take a few minutes and just admire the design of the structure.
No one answers, so I knock again, and then I wait.
Every second that passes feels like an hour, until finally, the door opens.
And he’s there, filling the space in front of me.
I had hoped Cameron’s mate would answer the door. At least then I wouldn’t feel so completely overwhelmed or isolated. At least if she’d opened the door, I wouldn’t have felt like I was being stared at or judged. No, I’m not under any impression that she and I would be friends. Not in any life. Certainly not after what I’ve done. Still, talking with a human feels a little bit...normal.
This?
Not so much.
“You,” he says, and he can barely hold back the snarl.
