Page 32 of An Accident Waiting to Dragon

“Can you fly yet?” he asked by way of distraction.

This would go a hell of a lot faster if she could spot the water and explore the island from the air rather than hiking all over kingdom come.

Asher watched as Gwen fluttered her wings, clamping down on his reaction. She lifted off but only made it a few feet into the air before she dropped back down to the sand with a tiny grunt. Then shook her head. “Not yet. Catching you seems to have done some damage, and I’m still healing.”

“Then we explore more on foot like yesterday.”

She nodded, then paused. “Where’d our coconuts go?”

He’d dropped his when they’d been running to try to get to shelter before the wraith caught them. She’d probably done the same.

“We need to eat anyway,” he said.

Bottling all that inside, he gave one of the slim-trunked trees a great shake using his dragon strength so that four or five coconuts all dropped to the sand.

Making quick work of it like yesterday, he let them both drink the coconut milk and then divvied up the fruits’ meat he carved out from the insides for them to eat, then hollowed out the fruit to create vessels for carrying water. Very chewy and fibrous, but at least it was food. “After we get back from looking for water, I’ll catch some more fish,” he said.

She nodded toward his arm. “I’m surprised you haven’t healed yet.”

He flexed his right arm, the pain more like a dull ache than anything sharp. That was something at least. “Maybe tomorrow.”

“Let’s hope,” she said, then tucked her wings away and out of sight.

For some odd reason, that small action triggered a memory of the night she’d first learned to fly as a little girl. He’d happened to be there, been privileged to witness the event. Of her parents’ twelve children, only Gwen had inherited her mother's moonlight pixie blood, which is why her surname was Moonsoar and not Woodshield, like her father and the rest of her siblings. Including Goran.

“What do your parents think about your job as a courier?”

The question just sort of popped out.

“I wouldn’t say they were happy about it. But they understand. They—” Gwen cut herself off like she suddenly realized who she was talking to.

Asher plowed forward anyway. “How are they?”

That got her to look at him, her serious gaze searching his. She tipped her head, then sort of winced, and he knew he wasn’t going to like whatever came out of her mouth next.

“Still devastated.”

Ouch.

Asher didn’t quite hide his flinch, and the way she suddenly leaned back, he knew she’d caught it. He wanted to tell her that he was still devastated, too, because he hadn’t just lost a best friend that day, he’d lost the trust and love of people he’d considered family.

And he’d lost her.

But he didn’t say any of that. “Ready?”

Her mouth flattened like she was disappointed he didn’t argue or defend himself. A shadow of the look she had cast him the day she’d found out about Goran.

Worst day of his life.

She’d begged Asher to tell her it wasn’t true, tell her that his part in it wasn’t the way he was describing, tell her he was lying. And when he hadn’t done any of that, because telling her the truth meant the blood oath would kill him, she'd given him a look of such wretched disappointment, as soon as she’d left the room, he’d vomited the meager contents of his stomach. He’d wanted to run out after her, to ask her not to leave, but he’d known that would only make it worse.

She was gone the next day with no trail and no communication about where she was headed.

“Let her go.” The memory of Gwen’s father—hollow and pale with his own grief—rattled around in Asher’s head. In his heart. “If you truly care, you won’t ever go after her.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Gwen

---