Page 8 of Fallen for the Two-Headed Dragon

As if he could smell her dirty thoughts, he dragged in a deep inhale before eating the meat from his plate in a way she could only describe as the epitome of carnal sensuality.

After their meal, Rathym nestled into the large bed of blankets, transforming back into the fearsome dragon of legends. His tail wrapped around his large body mass and nestled under his chins. The sweet, kitten-like pose made her heart flutter. It was endearing. It made her chest ache with a pang of regret knowing what she must do the moment he fell asleep.

Even if she’d wanted to stay, what would be the point? There was no way he felt the same chemistry between them that she did. He called her things like item, belonging, possession, and lumped her in with the rest of the junk—albeit expensive and precious junk—that littered his cave.

Besides, so what if he did feel the chemistry between them? They would never, could never, should never be together in any meaningful way. He was an animal. Right? A great, mythological, magical beast. She was only human. By the looks of his…anatomy, they would never fit together sexually. It would be a sexless partnership, where one partner saw the other as a magnificent and out-of-league beast, and the other saw their partner as a pretty token.

It would never work.

Rathym’s snores started out soft and gradually grew to fill the whole cave with rumbles that echoed one after another. She cast him one last rueful glance, the ache growing inside her chest.

Chapter Six

Rathym

Something was wrong.

Rathym woke to the feeling of danger deeply rooted in his bones. A threat. He erupted from dreaming ready to take on the threat to his home, only to find it utterly empty of trespassers.

Including his newest treasure.

The freshly scented trail she’d left behind drove him into the woods, where the pink hue of dawn bathed the forest ground. He pushed aside all fear for her safety. Centuries of service helped his composure to stay calm and alert. Battle ready. He spotted the pack of wolves before he saw what they were chasing, but he knew what he would find.

With an even dive, he beheaded the pack, taking out the alpha with a crunch. The rest of the pack howled and whimpered, scattering into the trees like a headless snake slithering until its muscles gave way. But his hunt was not over. Where was his human?

The scent of her blood reached him along the tree line. He lifted one pair of eyes well above the trees, the other staying low so as not to lose her trail. His human was smart. She’d found a deserving hiding place.

But she could not hide from him.

There. At last, he found her trembling body compressed in a fox burrow. Without halting his wings, he downshifted and touched down a few feet away. The scent of her fear was stronger than ever, proof that she was capable of the emotion he had yet to smell from her so strongly. Careful not to spook her, he held his hands up and padded toward her.

“You are safe now, mortal,” he said in a muted tone. “The wolves are gone. ’Tis only me, come to bring you home.”

Her fear-stricken eyes shook as they landed on him, tears sparkling in her lashes. The delicate brown drops held the skittish look of small prey, but Rathym knew it did not belong there. She was a fierce and courageous one, albeit one who should not be meandering the woods alone.

“Y-y-you came for me.”

“Of course.” Did she think he wouldn’t? “I don’t allow harm to come to what is mine.”

Something sparked in her fearful features as though she might push back, but she unfurled her arms from around her knees and extended a shaking hand. Rathym took it and helped her to stand. The moment she toddled upright, she fell into his arms.

“You’re hurt.”

Not allowing her time to resist, he scooped her into his arms and nestled her safely against his chest for the short flight home. Her fragrance was laced with fear. Rathym decided he didn’t like the combination.

Once inside the cool walls of his cave, he laid Dana on the long table and examined her feet. Her right ankle was very swollen. He cursed himself for showing up too late. She was his responsibility. He was supposed to keep her safe, not allow her to be ambushed and overpowered. Once again, the ghosts of his past laughed and pointed fingers at his failure.

“This will need healing. Strip.”

She balked and rose onto her hand, the elbow she’d been favoring held against her chest. Her face contorted with her usual argumentative nature. Rathym had little time for her falsely cheerful reasoning and began to prepare a healing salve.

“I’m fine. I don’t need—”

“You do need!” he thundered. His temper took hold, enveloping him in a prickling warmth. In his peripheral, Dana flinched back. He took a steadying breath, but it hardly doused the flames. Smoke leaked from his nostrils. “How am I to keep you safe if you deceive me and run from me? I’m charged with your safety. Do not make me fail to protect you. This needs dressing, and I must assess you for further injuries.”

“Rathym, I can’t stay here.” Her tone was pleading, but she removed her clothing like he’d asked. He ignored her and turned back to the salve.

“All of it,” he commanded when he saw she’d left two strips of fabric in place. She obeyed.

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