Page 41 of An Accident Waiting to Dragon

Clearly the wraith—or wraiths if that’s what they were dealing with—and its electricity-prone helper were dead set on getting the damn egg, still buried safely in their crevice.

Another flash, boom rocked the tiny cave where they’d holed up.

“That was close,” she murmured, not turning her head, but aiming the words toward where Asher was lying.

They’d been here all afternoon and now into the night, and she was on first watch.

Gwen had spent the time weaving together large leaves that she’d collected on their walk back into what amounted to blankets and pillows. Good thing they’d gotten water. But even so, her stomach was a grumbling mess after only coconut to eat earlier in the day.

Flash. Boom.

Gwen flinched. Was it getting…closer? She’d figured it was right on top of them.

Sitting near the entrance with her back propped against the jagged-edged rock wall, protected by her leaf pillow, and with her leaf blanket over her lap, she leaned forward, focused. Heart in her throat, she carefully watched the lightning illuminating beyond the entrance of the cave, searching the roiling sky for any sign of the wraith.

Hours. They had hours before daylight could drive the wraith away again. That was if the storm gave up searching the island where they hid.

Gwen dropped her head back against the rock wall. It was going to be a long night.

“No—”

Asher’s voice reached to her in the darkness, but she hadn’t said anything. Frowning, she cocked her head, listening. Did he need something?

“Don’t make me promise that.”

Gwen stilled.

“Not that,” he said again.

Not what? Promise what? They hadn’t talked promises. He couldn’t be talking about what was happening to them here.

Sitting straighter, she looked toward where he lay about six feet away. It was too dark to see him, though. “Ash?” she whispered.

With the wraith so close, they’d agreed. No talking. No noise. No movement. No fire. Nothing that could attract even the smallest amount of attention.

“I understand,” he muttered. The dejection in his voice. The resignation.

Her heart squeezed, even as realization struck. He had to be talking in his sleep. Not a very trained fighter thing to do, which ratcheted up her worry. Was the poison making him sick?

“Asher?”

A flash of lightning lit up just enough of their hiding spot to see him, lying on his side with his back to her. He twitched with a grunt.

Then the light was gone.

Should I wake him?

Gwen didn’t move.

Another flash of lightning, only this time, Gwen caught the violent trembling of Asher’s body.

It wasn’t that cold in here. Not with their makeshift blankets.

And dragons didn’t suffer sickness. This had to be the poison. Was he delirious?

Gwen was kneeling next to him before she even thought to move. A hand to his shoulder confirmed he was still fast asleep. He stirred slightly at her touch but didn’t wake.

“Asher?” She gave him a shake.

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