Page 31 of Burned

“Well, I’m only human, and I could use at least a few minutes to catch my breath,” he says.

He’s not breathing heavily at all, and based on his effortlessly steady pace, I would bet my hoard that he’s well practiced at traveling much farther distances without a break. But I nod in agreement anyway, latching on to the excuse to delay things just a little while longer.

“There’s a small pond not too far off our path. Why don’t we take a short detour to refresh ourselves with a swim, and then we’ll cover another twenty miles or so before we rest for the night?” I suggest.

“That sounds perfect. We’ll call it lunch.”

“Lunch, yes.” A smile grows on my lips as my feet unroot themselves.

I can hear the faint rippling of water and smell the distinct, clean scent of the fresh spring through the patch of trees to our left. Alrick follows me without complaint, his side of the bond feeling surprisingly lighter too.

Maybe he really does need a rest as much as I seem to.

ALRICK

I watchLord’s movements as he leads me through the trees. He seems to be fine now, but that doesn’t stop me from wondering about the suffocating feeling of dread that was pouring off of him only a few minutes ago.

Can dragons have anxiety disorders?

I frown at that unexpected thought.

“Hey, Lord…” I step over a fallen log, twigs and dead leaves crunching under my shoes with every step. “Is it possible for dragons to have mental health challenges?”

I can only imagine my dad or Digby’s reaction to a question like that. If you ask them, humans don’t even truly experience mental illness, it’s merely a lack of focus and purpose. Depressed? Stop being a baby and kill something, you’ll feel better in no time.

Lord is quiet for just a second before he barks out a laugh. It’s not a mocking laugh, more of a surprised sound.

“I honestly had never considered it before, but it would explain a lot about several dragons I know. And I did once meet a vampire with PTSD.” He shudders.

I hum thoughtfully. “Maybe there’s a dragon out there with OCD who keeps his hoard alphabetized.”

He laughs again, more raucously this time, throwing his head back and scattering birds from the trees with the echoing sound.

“I’ll ask Dempsey to look into it once we’re…” He clears his throat. “I’mhome.”

I want to ask who Dempsey is, but the reminder that he’ll be going home andI’llbe going to my own home when this is over hits me unexpectedly hard in the chest. Is the heavy pulse of despair Lord’s or mine? Why would either of us feel it at all? Just because this breathtaking dragon has been nothing but kind to me doesn’t mean I don’t have a life to get back to.

Maybe it’s not a life I chose, but it’s mine, all the same.

That only makes the heavy feeling in my chest even weightier, but I don’t have long to dwell on it before we step out of the trees and into a clearing. The sun casts golden beams of light through the thin branches onto the glistening, clear water of the small pond. There are a few flat rocks lining one side of the pond, directly in the path of the sunlight as well. Lord purrs loudly, then clears his throat and gives me a sheepish smile.

“There are only a few things in this world that dragons love more than sunning ourselves on warm rocks.”

“Well, don’t let me stop you.” I shrug out of my pack and slip my shoes off so I can dip my feet into the water.

Lord strips his shirt over his head, and I stare shamelessly at the golden skin and lean but powerful muscles suddenly on display. My earlier fantasy of exploring his body with my mouth reignites and my cock swells. His pants are next to go, pooling around his feet, followed by his briefs. My mouth goes dry, and I track the gentle sway of his half-hard cock between his thighs as he kicks himself free of his clothing.

His throaty chuckle draws my attention back up to his face. He arches an eyebrow at me but neither of us makes a move. Fuck, I want to. Can I? Should I?

After a few beats, he turns away and strides over towards the water’s edge.

“I’m going to warm it up for you,” he says over his shoulder.

“Wait—” I pause with my shirt halfway over my head. “—won’t that kill the fish or any other wildlife in there?”

“It’s only a small natural spring, there’s nothing living here that we need to worry about,” he assures me before bending down towards the water, dragging in a deep breath, and sending a roaring flame dancing over the surface of the pond.

The water boils instantly, then settles once his flame peters out. Lord gestures towards it.

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