This is not the nuzzling, affectionate Kael of the last few days. This is something else entirely. Looking at him like this, I remember that it only takes one dragon to decimate a city. I squeeze my eyes shut as he storms toward me. He’s dangerous when in a rage, and this is definitely qualifying as a rage. Will he kill me? Slice me in half with one swipe and destroy me as easily as he did the other dragon? It had been one of his kind. I could have sworn that he’d communicated with it on some level, but he’d destroyed it as easily as breathing.
The safety I’ve felt with him over the last few days? It’s a lie. I thought maybe I could be his friend. That I was secure with him. It’s all wrong. Fort Dallas wanted me to control a dragon, but there’s no controlling something like Kael. He’s a force of nature. And like a tornado or a hurricane, he’s going to destroy everything in his path to get what he wants.
And…he wants me.
Kael looms over me, still in enormous, frightening dragon form, the heat from his body radiating off of him and washing over me. I close my eyes, instinctively flinching away as he leans in.
But…the massive head only nuzzles my cheek. His breath, still coppery and smelling of blood and char, rolls over me like a wave. All he does is sniff my hair, then runs his snout along my torn jumpsuit as if reassuring himself that I’m not harmed.
There’s some control in there, after all. Some of the awful tension leaves my body, and I release the breath that I’m holding. “It’s just me, Kael,” I say softly. “I’m here with you.”
He noses me again, and then his claws wrap around my waist. I’m dragged up against him as he launches himself into the sky, and all I can do is hold on for dear life and hope that his madness ebbs soon.
I lose track of how long we’re flying. The world seesaws back and forth as Kael rides the currents of wind, and I flop around, helpless, in his claws. My stomach roils with every dive, and it makes it difficult to concentrate on where we are going, because opening my eyes means I want to vomit. But eventually, the jagged, wild flying evens out, and I squeeze open my eyes to see that we’ve returned to the office building with the running water—the building I was snatched from just a short time ago.
It feels like a lifetime ago.
Kael lands, and I squirm in his grasp, trying to get free. He gently unhooks his claws and releases me, and the moment I stumble to the ground, the last of my jumpsuit falls apart.
Freaking figures. This day is just a shit cake. I strip off the remnants and kick them aside, heading toward the bathroom. I want to splash my face with water. I can still smell the blood of the other dragon on me, still smell the smoke in my nostrils. I need to get clean.
I need to get away and breathe for a few minutes.
“Clau-dah,” booms an all-too-familiar voice behind me. Someone’s turned human form again and probably wants to flirt.
But I’m still shaking with shock. I don’t turn around. I don’t want to flirt right now. I want to know that I’m safe. I want to curl up in a ball and hide in a small, cement-cased room where nothing can snatch me again.
“Clau-dah?” This time, Kael’s tone is questioning. I feel his steps as he marches up behind me and touches my shoulder, but the hand that brushes my bare skin is gentle. Just as quickly as he touches me, he pulls away again. “Clau-dah…Kael.”
I bite my lip, contemplating my options. How’s he going to act if I ignore him? Not well, I suspect. So I turn back to him, arms crossed, my body locked with tension. “What do you want?” The moment I see him, though, I gasp in shock. Blood flows from a corner of his mouth, and there’s a long gouge down one of his arms that’s dripping blood. All over, his chest is splattered with dried blood, and he looks like he just emerged from a slaughterhouse. “Oh my god! You’re hurt?”
“Clau-dah…Kael.” This time, when he says it, there’s no mistaking the possessiveness in his voice. He gestures at his arm, then makes a clawing motion, mimicking the other dragon pulling me from his grasp. “Clau-dah.” He bares his teeth, showing his long fangs. “Kael.”
Even though we only have two words in our shared vocabulary, I know exactly what he’s saying. The other dragon wounded him when he snatched me from his grip. And Kael had gone after me, because in his eyes, I’m his.
I don’t know how I feel about that. Part of me is irritated that I’m thought of like a possession. And another part of me is thankful as hell that he’d decided that I’m his and thus saved me from the other dragon. I’m a little horrified that I’m happy about that. I’m also a little flattered. Just a teeny, tiny bit, but I squash that feeling right away, aware of the guilt it causes. “Serves you right for kidnapping me,” I tell him, but the words feel rude the moment they come out of my mouth. He didn’t have to save me.
Maybe it’s my tone of voice, but his eyes narrow. He glances at his arm, then back at me. His eyes are still swirling with black, but the gold flashes more often, letting me know he’s close to returning to himself. As my eyes lock with his, he straightens and makes a low purring sound in his throat. I drop my gaze and…yup. Kael’s turned on again. His cock stirs and lengthens, hardening as I watch.
“Does that have to happen every time we talk?” I ask him, strangely breathless.
As I watch, he lifts his arm and licks the wound, but his gaze is still firmly focused on me.
That’s almost…sexy. God, I should not be fascinated by that. “No, Kael,” I tell him, using my firmest voice. Anything to distract me. Er, him. “I realize you’re just as much dragon as you are human, but that’s not how you clean a wound.”
“Kah-leeen,” he mimics, reaching out and brushing his fingertips down my arm. HIs eyes swirl darker, and he moves forward, and his skin brushes up against mine. “Wwwwound.”
As he moves closer, I realize just how big he is. Dappled skin and muscular chest fill my vision, and I put my hand on his wounded arm. I can’t help but notice that both of my hands can’t circle one bicep. Shiver. “Maybe more dragon than human,” I mutter to myself. “Come on. Let’s clean you off, at least. I realize you’re all turned on, but you’re also covered in blood, and I’m hoping not all of it is yours.”
“Bah-luhhd.” He cocks his head, watching my mouth, then tries to brush his thumb—his bloody thumb—over my lips.
I jerk away. “No!”
“No?” His brows draw together, and he gazes at the red smears on his skin.
“Yes, blood,” I repeat, exasperated. My fingers brush over his, and I touch the sticky blood drying on his clawed fingertips. It smears the dark red between the pads of my fingers, and I show him. “Blood. And it’s all over you. So come on.” I take his hand in mine, ignoring how big and familiar, yet alien, he is to me. His hand is large but masculine, the skin warm, but just a little too warm. The fingers strong, and five in number like a man’s hand, but tipped with claws instead of fingernails. He’s human, but not quite.