Page 17 of An Accident Waiting to Dragon

Sunlight broke through the darkness outside, suddenly turning the wave frozen above them from a deep, murky blue to turquoise.

She blinked. “I think the wraith and its friend have gone.”

“Could be a trap,” he said. “Wait here.”

Before she could stop him, he shrugged off her hold and swam out from under their hiding spot. Gwen moved to where the crest was suspended over the water, peeking out through the slit, but couldn’t see him.

I don’t like this.

Especially the way her stomach curled in worry. Worrying about him wasn’t her problem anymore. Except…

“All clear, I think,” Asher called from somewhere off to the right.

By the time she swam out from under the wave, then released it, Asher had shifted. A massive, dark blue dragon floated in the water beside her like a duck.

Right. Dragons had hollow bones.

“What are you doing?” she demanded. “What if?—”

“Wraiths can’t be in sunlight.” His voice ping-ponged around in her head.

“But the thing that’s controlling the storm could,” she pointed out. “Aren’t you supposed to be some bad ass dragon general or something now? Seems pretty obvious?—”

He jerked his chin off to the southeast. Sure enough, massive, dark storm clouds were visible in the distance, but far enough away that they were safe for the moment.

Now she looked like the asshole.

Regroup, she told herself. Focus on a plan. What next?

“We should swim the opposite direction,” Asher said, beating her to it. “Find an island, preferably inhabited, and then figure out our next steps.”

Despite her determination not to care, Gwen frowned, checking out his right wing, which was folded back. “You can’t fly?”

“No.” Without warning, Asher scooped her out of the water with his left wing.

“Whoa!” Gwen squeaked as she wobbled on her hands and knees. “A little heads-up next time, yeah?” Then she crawled across the thinner membrane to his back. He had his spikes laid down, allowing her to sit with her knees drawn up.

“Ready?” he asked.

She rolled her eyes at the back of his head, wicked spikes, and all. Did he think she was scared or something? She’d changed a lot since he last saw her. “Ready.”

Using his tail and back legs to propel them, Asher took off through the waters. All Gwen could do was sit and let him get them somewhere safer. But there were things she could do. First, she moved the egg pouch around so that it was strapped around her waist and basically cradled between her legs and body. Then, she unfurled her wings, letting them dry in the breeze generated by their momentum.

But that was it. Otherwise, she was just waiting to get to their destination.

After a little while, with nothing to look at but dragon, water, and an island in the distance, but mostly dragon, Gwen reached out and poked a finger at one of his scales. She’d always found Asher’s scales fascinating—supple, more like a lizard’s underbelly, but hard at the same time, and reflective, like liquid sapphires lay trapped inside each one.

Absentmindedly, she traced a pattern over it, feeling the smoothness like a balm, reminding her of the rose quartz worry stone her mother had given her to keep close while she was so far from home.

Suddenly, the scales under her hand and all around her undulated, like a bird ruffling its feathers, and Asher made a sound between a grunt and a groan. “Tickles,” he rumbled inside her head.

Gwen jerked her hand away. Heat flamed up her face, because he was being kind, helping save her the embarrassment. She knew damn well that what he felt through his scales wasn’t ticklish. He’d once told her that it felt…tempting.

What had she been thinking? She put her hands to her flaming cheeks, glad he couldn’t see her right now.

Wait a minute. Between the two of us, I should not be the one on the wrong foot.

Wrapping thirteen years of resentment around her like a shield, Gwen straightened.

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