Page 19 of An Accident Waiting to Dragon

What could he say anyway? The important stuff would only kick in that godsdamned blood oath and get him killed.

So he shifted, then sat in the sand, uninjured elbow propped on his drawn-up knees, giving himself a second to recover. His muscles were rubber after flying so far, the fight, and then the long swim to land.

But still, what the hells?

He’d never needed to stop and rest before, except after what Goran did to him in his last moment. That was the only time. Dragons had stamina. They were physical creatures. And they healed fast. So what was going on now?

Trying to be subtle about it, he checked his arm.

The entire scorch mark was visible because the lightning had fried off the sleeve of his shirt. But at least the hole in his flesh wasn’t gaping and oozing anymore. Not that it looked great. From the angry red gash in his elbow, spreading in either direction, his skin was charred black. With the way dragons healed, it should have improved more than this by now, even while he was swimming.

Hells.

He glanced at Gwen, who had her back to him, egg strapped to her back now. Her hands were on her hips as she walked down the beach a little, seemingly checking out the island they’d landed on. They’d circled from the water and seen zero signs of life, but getting to an inhabited island would have to wait until he’d rested more.

Gods, she looked amazing. Her long hair had dried in a tangle down her back, and her black leggings and t-shirt were salt crusted. Not a lick of makeup. And she was…gorgeous.

Obviously, she was working out what they needed to do next, unlike him. He was just sitting here lusting and wishing and…

Focus the fuck up, Ash.

He turned his gaze out to sea, because clearly any view with Gwen in it was a distraction. Right. First things first.

“We should?—”

Gwen spun around, cutting him off. “I think the wind while you swam might’ve dried my wings enough,” she said. Her hand went to the strap of her pack, unclasping it and dropping the egg to the ground. “If I can fly, I can get us help.”

Her wings unfurled from her back, and his body surged to aching life at the sight. Asher scowled at himself. Damn it all, she could have given him more warning than that. He’d always been fascinated by her wings, turned on by the full sight of her. Did she not realize that?

His dick hardened, pressing against his jeans zipper, his dragon also surging. The urge to step closer for a better look, to see if her wings had changed at all through the years, to touch her, had him clenching his jaw.

Because he’d never do that without permission.

Taking a long, slow, silent breath, he wrangled and tied up his reactions and his dragon tight as he tried to take a more scientific view.

Pixie wings were a miraculous creation.

She didn’t need to leave her back bare to unfurl them. Whatever magic pixies possessed worked so that their wings appeared to just sort of come out of their clothes, and when they disappeared, no one could tell the difference between a pixie and a human. Formed like butterfly wings with four distinct sections, two on each side, that overlaid each other but could work both in tandem and independently, no two pixie’s wings were alike. The colors and patterns were distinct and individual like a fingerprint.

Gwen slowly maneuvered like she was stretching them, feeling them out, but not fluttering yet.

Her wings were somehow both white and translucent at the same time, iridescent with hints of all the colors of the rainbow as they moved, even brighter in sunlight. They were also larger than many others because of her lineage, forming horns at the tops, spreading out wide behind her and then dropping into swallowtail-like loops at the bottom that brushed the ground when she walked. Scattered throughout were dots that were ringed in gleaming gold. And in moonlight, when her wings were out, Gwen disappeared in the shafts of soft white light entirely, like a mirage. An illusion.

Like Gwen herself. At least as far as he was concerned.

So real, and yet if he reached for her, she’d dissolve, leaving him alone again.

Asher watched as Gwen fluttered her wings so that it looked like a rainbow of colors hovered behind her in a cloud with flashes of gold catching the sunlight. She lifted off, flying slowly higher as she tested herself, making it about twenty feet up. Then a pained gasp tore from her and she dropped, arms pinwheeling.

Asher lunged to his feet, and just barely made it under her in time to catch her, but thanks to his injured arm, pain bolted through him, and he crumpled under the impact, tumbling them both to the ground. He tried to roll them so that he took the brunt of the fall, but, thanks to landing on a bit of a hill, they rolled again and ended up with Gwen pinned under him.

They stared at each other, sharing a breath for stomach-clenching moment. “Gwen,” he whispered.

She blinked, then gasped, and then shoved at his shoulders.

Asher squeezed his eyes shut, trying to breathe through the throbbing slashing through him.

Gwen shoved again. “Get off me.”

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