Page 36 of An Accident Waiting to Dragon

“What if that makes it worse?”

“Just do it—” A grunt tore from him as a shaft of pain, like taking a dragon’s barbed tail to the side, stabbed through his back, then radiated outward and up his spine to the base of his skull.

Behind him, Gwen hissed, and he spun around on the rock, thinking she’d pricked herself on the barb, only to find her holding up a nasty looking, curved spike of inky black.

That thing had been in him? The wraith must’ve managed to slip it under one of his scales when they’d been locked in battle midair.

Days.

It had been in him almost two days. Might even explain why he was healing so slowly. Either way, that couldn’t be good.

“How bad is it?” he asked.

In answer, Gwen’s gaze skittered away from his, the corners of her mouth turning down.

“Gwen?” he prompted.

“I don’t want to freak you out, Ash.”

He tried very, very hard not to tense at the old nickname. Not to pull her across his lap. She probably didn’t even realize she’d called him that.

“That bad?” he tried to tease. It came out too serious. He was rusty with teasing.

“Not funny,” she muttered, then shoved at his uninjured shoulder to turn him back around. “Whatever that was coated in, it’s now in your tissue and blood.”

That wiped all attempts at teasing right out of him. “I guess it is that bad,” he muttered.

“Worse.” She sighed. “I assume you’ve seen a wound with sepsis?”

“Yeah, but not in dragons.”

“I don’t think it’s that. I’m pretty sure I was right the first time, and it’s poisoned.”

Seven hells. “Describe it.”

“Um…Your skin is black around the wound. The poison seems to be visibly spreading up the veins. I can see it under your skin.”

Asher glared at the pond which sparkled happily back at him. Fucking wraiths. Damn things were a blight on the world.

“You’re going to need a Healer.”

She meant a Healer in the supernatural world sense. One lived in Ben Nevis. Enough of Fallon’s blood, and Asher’d be all fixed up. But Scotland was a fair flight from Indonesia.

Plus they had to get off this island and get Gwen and the egg to Meilin first.

Maybe Meilin had a Healer?

“Anything you can do to stave it off?” he asked.

“What? Like pixie tricks?” He could practically hear her eyes roll, and his lips twitched again, despite the seriousness of the situation.

Gwen had always had that effect on him.

“You never did convince me pixies don’t have secret magic.”

“We’re not Leprechauns sitting on piles of gold,” she said. “Or fae for that matter. We have nature-related powers, stronger in the area our wings designate, and that’s all. No extra magic.”

“At least Leprechauns or fae could fix me,” he grumbled.

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