Page 23 of An Accident Waiting to Dragon

“It’ll be more dangerous.” If he’d used that tone on one of the dragons under his command, they would have stopped talking immediately.

Gwen rolled her eyes. “The storm is in the distance, and we have a little daylight left.” She glanced to the west where the sun was starting to drop, but not yet lengthening the shadows.

“I go where you go.”

That earned him another eye roll. “Then I guess we’ll try to do both at the same time.”

“Fine.” He got to his feet and dug under the fire.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“We can bury the egg here. My fire will keep it warm while we look.” And not even a wraith would dare to touch dragon fire.

Surprisingly, she didn’t argue with that one. Gwen glanced up at the trees and Asher followed her gaze. Coconuts.

“I don’t think there’s enough of them to be our main source of water,” she said.

He grunted an agreement. Coconuts didn’t produce a lot of water, and, at least as far as he could see, there was only this small clump of the trees here.

“But,” she said. “We could use them to carry water if we find it.”

Smart Gwen. But something about how fast she’d found that solution sat wrong.

When had she had to learn survival skills? Had she been in situations like this before? Had she been in danger?

He’d been oblivious.

When he’d allowed himself to think of her, he’d pictured her safely ensconced with a different flutter of pixies. Maybe teaching the young to use their powers. She’d always been gifted that way.

Instead, she’d been Delilah’s courier.

Of course she’d been in fucking danger before.

Danger he hadn’t been there to protect her from.

I really am an asshole.

Once they’d pulled a few coconuts down and he’d hollowed them out, she walked off the beach without even a smidge of hesitation, and for a second Asher let himself watch after her.

Even after the fight and the swimming, she moved with a subtle, delicate grace that was partly her pixie nature, but even more…just Gwen. She flowed the way moonlight did, slipping and spilling between the cracks.

Gods, he’d missed her.

He’d spent the last thirteen years stuffing that ache down deep, focusing on the need in front of him—the war of kings. But now that she was here…

Could he let her go again?

Did he even have a choice?

The last thing he’d ever want to do was make anything worse for her. Which meant keeping his hands off, and his thoughts to himself.

This was going to be a long couple of days.

Suddenly, a roll of thunder reached him from the distance and they both turned to look. Sure enough the storm had come closer. Still not close enough to affect them, but there was no doubt they were being hunted. Godsdamn it.

They’d better move fast.

CHAPTER EIGHT

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