Page 24 of Fallen for the Two-Headed Dragon

“Mom!”

“Dana! Samantha, it’s Dana!” her mom yelled into the phone. Dana held the phone away from her ear until her volume went back down, her tone quivering with barely contained tears. “Bayiku, what is this?”

“It’s a long story. What has Jackson been saying?”

Her sister’s voice called something too far for the phone to catch, growing louder as the phone was rustled and placed on speaker.

“That bajingan says you dumped him on a hiking trip and then never came home,” Samantha said with her typical attitude. “But that’s impossible. You wouldn’t dump him—and if you were going to, I would’ve known well before he did!”

Dana laughed. It was true. Even in the early days of her and Jackson’s relationship, Samantha nagged her to leave him. She would deflect, citing reasons like oh but he pays the bills while I write, or oh but he supports my dream, and oh but I owe him so much for all he’s done for me. She’d been willfully blind to the fact that he was steadily taking said dream away from her and cocooning her in false freedom, a cage the shape of a family home.

“Yeah. No, he—uh—” she stuttered. She should’ve considered how much she wanted to tell them. She couldn’t exactly say where she’d been. She would tell Sam. Sam would believe her, probably even be envious. Her sister was the one who got her hooked on steamy fantasy romance novels that sounded eerily similar to her new life.

Her mom, however, was a different story. She came from a different world, a different time. Even though her mom was educated, she still struggled with some modern-day behaviors, like most parents do. For instance, even though she’d never said it out loud, Dana knew her mom strongly disapproved of her decision to move in with a man she wasn’t married to.

“He pushed me off a cliff.”

Her mom gasped. Samantha went quiet.

“Are you all right?” Sam asked a moment later. Their mother’s sobs grew distant. Her sister’s hushed voice got closer. “You’re off speaker for a sec.”

“I’m fine. I’ll tell you everything when I see you, okay? Just don’t let Mom go off the deep end.”

“Okay. Glad you’re safe.”

After a few more minutes of reassurances, Dana promised to get a car home and hung up.

The driver of the old Ford Taurus that picked her up tried his best to make small talk but dropped it when she basically iced him out. She didn’t care to talk to anyone, let alone a stranger in the front seat. The conversation she was bound to have with her mom and the cops was daunting. It had to be done, yes—but it would be the most uncomfortable thing she’d ever endured, and she wasn’t excited to tell a bunch of lies.

Her whole life, she’d been the peacekeeper. Between her mom and sister arguing over Sam’s grades. Between her mom and grandmother over her mom’s decision not to move back home. Between her sister and their cousins, who teased Sam’s voice every time they visited because she spoke more like their father.

Dana had spent a long time people-pleasing and hardly ever considered setting boundaries. She’d nearly given in to Jackson’s relentless badgering about having kids simply to keep the peace. Hell, she’d spent the past week in a dragon’s lair partially because she didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

Although she didn’t regret that last one.

Rathym. Her heart constricted at the thought of him. She hoped he would be okay while she was gone. His separation anxiety was concerning. At first, she’d wondered if it was a trait common among his species. Now, she knew it was born from the tragic loss of his friends. How painful it must be to harbor that grief and blame for two whole centuries. It definitely explained a lot.

The car squeaked to a stop. She thanked the driver, stepped outside, and was immediately clobbered by her family.

“Oh, bayiku. I was so worried!” wailed her mother.

“I’m sorry, Mom, I should’ve called sooner.”

“Could you have?” Sam asked. “Were you surviving in the woods?”

The image of herself using sticks to make a fire or sharpening them into spears for hunting made her snort. Another image came to mind, of a tall, broad, scaled hunk poring over an old cook fire, preparing hearty, scrumptious meals, cocks swaying with his steps. Even with the hours-long drive home, she hadn’t come up with a believable story for her mother. Or the police, for that matter.

“Well, actually, I met a man who…lives off the land. He helped me recover from the fall.”

Over her mom’s shoulder, Sam slapped a hand over her mouth. She asked a silent question with her arched brows and jutted neck, to which Dana responded with a sly smile. Their mother abruptly stopped the embrace to assess Dana at arm’s length.

“A man? Recover? Are you hurt? Oh, atiku!”

“Mom, relax. Please. Let’s go inside—”

“Ora. We go straight to the police!” She abruptly stepped away from Dana and extended her hand with the keys already poised. “You stayed with a man in the woods after being pushed by your fiancé—”

“Fiancé?”

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