Page 42 of An Accident Waiting to Dragon

A groan, a move away from her hand, but still out.

She leaned over him, putting a hand to his forehead, before she hissed at the feel. He was icy to the touch. Dragons always ran hot. Only severe sickness could creep past their natural healing and turn them cold like this.

And when they lost their fire…

“No. No. No,” she muttered under her breath as she moved blanket, shirt, and bandage out of her way.

She had to wait again for another flash of lightning, because Asher was further into the cavern. The illumination was dimmer here when it came, but that didn’t matter. The ugly blackish-purple tendrils of poison had crawled all the way up to his shoulder blade, and as she pulled his pants back, down his leg just as far as she could see.

“Gods above,” she whispered, her voice suddenly hoarse.

A frantic, unfamiliar sort of panic set in at the sight. And for the first time since he’d shown up, tackling the wraith midair, the truth struck at her.

Cleaved her in two.

I still love him.

In truth, she had never stopped, even when she hadn’t let herself think of him. Feel anything for him. Even when she was so angry with him that she wanted to never see him again.

Seven hells.

But what if the truth she was going to try to uncover didn’t change any of that?

Gods… she didn’t know what she would do if that ended up happening. She needed this damned stubborn, secretive, grumpy dragon shifter like she needed moonlight. More. She could live without him, but only truly felt alive with him. Always had.

She just hadn’t let herself admit it or feel it. Except in her dreams.

What did that mean for them moving forward?

She couldn’t say, yet. But if he died before they had a chance to figure it out…

“Don’t die on me now,” she pleaded with his unresponsive form. “Not when I need you. Not when I…”

Her throat closed around the words.

Another flash of lightning and thunder hit along with a pelting of sideways rain coming through the crack. It felt like the storm was trying to crawl in here with them.

Asher groaned in his sleep. A sound of torment.

Scrambling by feel alone to the corner of their hidey hole, she found the coconuts, most filled with water, one filled with prepped plants of her poultice. All she needed to do was grind them up with a little water.

It took several more flashes to check her work before she was satisfied. Then she was back at Asher’s side again, rolling him over, washing off the wound with water before applying more poultice. It hadn’t done much before, but there was nothing else she could think to do.

And doing nothing sucked.

How could such a strong body give into darkness like this? She’d always thought of Asher as indestructible.

Tying the bandage back over it, she was mid-pull on the ends to tighten it when another flash illuminated something she hadn’t noticed before.

“What the?—”

Gwen leaned her face closer to the top of his wound, and the black tendrils rising out of the top of the bandage. In the dark, she couldn’t see a darn thing, so she had to wait once more. This time, as soon as the flash came, she deliberately pressed a finger into his flesh and then, holding the pressure, traced one of the tendrils. Sure enough, the inky poison moved inside him like liquid.

No.

Not liquid. Like shadow.

Like darkness.

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