Page 31 of An Accident Waiting to Dragon

Asher ducked his head and grinned, suddenly feeling like he could crow from the fucking rooftops. All he could think was that in her dreams, once she let herself stop remembering to hate him, she still wanted him.

They both had been dreaming of each other. That had to mean something didn’t it?

“Me too.”

He could see the moment the implication of that registered with her by the slight widening of her eyes. Humans tended to wave off dreams as random, or a misfiring of neurons, or the brain processing information. But all the creatures of the supernatural world, who were just a little bit more than human, knew better. Dreams were many things: omens, warnings, or a fucking path to a truth you didn't want to admit in waking life.

And he wanted her.

That was his truth. Always had been.

Was it hers too?

Fated. The word whispered through him for the first time since Goran…

Only they couldn’t be. He’d determined that the day she’d run from him and hadn’t ever come back. A fated mate wouldn’t be able to do that. Fate was like gravity, pulling you inexorably closer to the other person, and to be away from them was…

Dragon shifters of great strength and power had been driven to despair by that kind of distance.

Or had the dreams been their link all this time? Is that how he’d survived the loneliness that had often felt like it would crush him.

Was it possible?

Asher could see Gwen was debating how to answer him, and guilt took a few more needles to him for even bringing it up. Because even if there was a truth she didn’t want to admit to, it was a conscious decision. He knew that much. But he couldn’t quite make himself change the topic or give her an out, waiting for her move.

Her gaze flicked over his shoulder past him to the entrance to their small shelter, that he now blocked, and the early morning sunlight streaming through it in broken beams. “We need to find water,” she said.

Disappointment deflated every hope that had started to fill him up. He was right. She didn’t want to want him.

Even so, he wanted to argue. To prod and poke her until…

Until what? Until he broke? Until he died?

If he did that, he’d hurt her a thousand times worse than he already had.

Don’t be a bigger asshole than you already are.

He’d respect her boundaries, no matter what. And lying together like that was clearly out now, even for warmth.

She twitched her shoulders, an impatient move she used to do as a girl, so familiar to him that his lips drew up without thinking. Only to stop when she directed a frown his way.

“Listen…we need to survive long enough for you to heal up and be able to fly,” she said. “Then we can get the fuck out of here.”

She tromped past him and out of the crevice, careful in the small space not to touch him.

“Yeah. Great plan,” Asher muttered to himself as he followed her.

Gwen made it all the way to the beach before she stopped and put her hands on her hips, her back to him, staring at the storm clouds raging in the distance. Not nearly as far off as they had been yesterday, maybe one or two islands away. But at least they had a window. A small one probably, as fast as the storm wielder moved.

“Do you think the egg is safe where we left it in the cave while we look for water?” Gwen asked.

Where he’d buried it last night? It’d be as safe as it would anywhere else, including on them, especially if they got caught. They were lucky they hadn’t broken it with all the banging around they’d been doing. “Yes.”

She nodded, back still to him. “Did any of the plane wreckage find its way to the island with us?”

He knew what she was asking. If they had anything they could use as tools or a bucket. Smart. Gwen had always been smart. “No.”

Trapped on a deserted island with more than one thing after them was not the time to be fixing their relationship. They needed to focus on getting to safety, then…maybe…

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