The dragonwoman turned and stared down at her with her piercing brown eyes, her expression unreadable. The woman may tower over her, but Mel wasn’t going to be intimidated. Especially not when Tristan’s life could be at stake.
The woman finally gave a sad smile and Mel’s stomach dropped as the dragonwoman said, “You are quite the brave one, human. Normally, I’d like to see what else you’re made of before giving out information, but I’ll make an exception in this case.” She gestured toward the landing area. “Go. Your Tristan is dying.”
Her heart skipped a beat. No. It couldn’t be true. Tristan was strong and brave, to an unbelievable alpha degree. He couldn’t be dying.
Mel turned toward the crowd. She’d just have to find him and convince his stubborn ass to fight for his life.
She searched out a path to the landing area and for once wished she had wings so she could fly over all these people. However, before she could ask anyone to move out of the way, the woman behind her yelled something in the dragon language. All eyes went to Melanie. Gone were the looks of contempt, disgust, or curiosity. Instead, they were now eyeing her with varying degrees of sadness and pity.
That definitely wasn’t good news.
Tears threatened to fall, but she forced them back. Get it together, Hall. You can’t help him if you turn into a blubbery mess.
As a path magically cleared for her, she kept her head high as she half-ran, half-jogged toward the landing area. She wasn’t in the best shape, but she ignored the shortness of her breath and kept up her pace. She wasn’t about to let a little thing like being overweight stop her from reaching her man.
Besides, Bram hadn’t tried to contact her, and if Tristan were truly dying, he would have.
For now, she had to believe that rumors about her dragonman were inflated. After all, gossip tended to do that to the truth.
She only hoped that was the case this time because if Tristan was dying, she might not be able to keep herself together. She’d not only start crying, but her heart would break. Not just because her baby would be without a father, but also because she would miss the odd combination of his grumpiness and his tenderness.
Please, Tristan, hold on for me. I’m coming.
Chapter Three
Pain. Blood. Death.
Those three words repeated themselves over and over inside Tristan and his dragon’s head. Tristan’s human-half was weak, and the dragon-half had taken control, which meant his beast had fallen back on instinct.
The human part of him was vaguely aware of the other dragon-shifters trying to help him, but his dragon-half was snarling and whooshing its tail through the air to keep everyone away. His dragon roared inside their head. They will pounce on our weakness. They will kill us. I must keep them away.
No, they want to help us. They will heal us, he shouted at his beast. But his words fell on deaf ears.
He tried to muster the strength necessary to push his dragon back, but none of the tricks every dragon-shifter learned as a child had any affect on his beast’s pain-induced rage. Not even Tristan’s stubbornness was working. Due to the gaping, bleeding wounds on his chest and shoulders, Tristan’s usual inner strength was all but gone.
Yet if he couldn’t get control of his dragon, he would die.
All of the sudden, an image of Melanie naked in the grass, her gorgeous, pale curves on display and her eyes full of stubbornness, came into his mind. In his vision, she was rubbing her clit and beckoning him to thrust his long, hard cock inside her.
It was strange the things that came into your mind when you thought you were dying.
But then remembering Melanie also brought back the fact he might never see his child.
He tried to use the loss of Melanie and their baby as a way to garner the dragon-half’s attention, and for a second, he stilled. Then his beast’s pain-induced fit started up again and Tristan mentally let out a frustrated sigh.
If only he could see Melanie one last time. Maybe then he could find the strength to push his inner beast back and have a chance to survive. Not just for their baby, but for her as well. In this moment he wasn’t about to lie to himself. He cared for his little human.
However, she had no way of knowing he was injured, and even if she did, it was nearly too late. If he didn’t receive the attention he needed within the next thirty minutes, he would die.
Even then, survival wasn’t guaranteed.
Another group of healers approached him. His dragon snarled at them and then knocked two of the dragon-shifters flat on their arses with his tail. Three more dragon-shifters tried to approach him from a different direction, but Tristan knew their chances of success weren’t going to be any better; a dragon in pain would use up any and all strength to keep away perceived threats.
Before his three clan members were close enough to swat away, his dragon moaned into the air again. The constant, throbbing pain confused the beast. He wanted it to stop.