Page 34 of Beyond the Darkness

Connie raised his head and stared at Hudson. Or rather, what was climbing on Hudson.

“Holy shit? Is that a baby dragon?”

Oh, this was bad. This was incredibly bad. A youngling had a full array of abilities. Although inferior to those of an older youngling, those abilities were sufficient for it to take care of itself, at least against relatively weak threats and predators.

They could run within hours of hatching and fly within a day or two. Its senses were fully acute, and—due to the interweaving of a dragon’s centers of memory and instinct—it was born with a substantial amount of its parents’ knowledge imprinted in its mind.

A youngling had a grasp of the generalities of the world and of its own identity. It knew how to move, how to use its innate abilities, who and what its parents were, and—perhaps most important—how to view the world around it.

And humans were a threat.

And even though Kit was taking their blood, he was not a dragon.

He and Hudson moved simultaneously—Hudson shifted immediately and grabbed the youngling by the scruff of its neck. Connie tried to curl around Kit. The youngling yowled, of course, and when he did, fire erupted from his snout. Well, more like sparks—a lot of sparks—but it was still dragon fire sparks… which landed on Kit.

Connie roared as he curled protectively around his mate, trying to shield him from more sparks. Hudson swore loudly as he jerked the little dragon away from Kit. Panicked thoughts crashed around in Connie’s head.

That youngling had accidentally breathed sparks on Kit. Dragon fire sparks. Dragon fire was about ten thousand degrees Fahrenheit. It could carbonize humans into ash, and that included the sparks.

He was losing his mind. Was Kit hurt? Why wasn’t he saying anything? Was he… dead? Oh Gaura. But, but that shouldn’t be possible. Kit was taking their blood.

Kit wasn’t a dragon, though.

If something had happened to Kit, Connie would destroy the whole world. He’d burn it to ash. He’d rampage through the streets. There would be nothing left standing. Not Kit. Not his beautiful mate. He couldn’t lose his mate. His thoughts circled around and around, feeding into his fear.

“Connie!” Hudson shouted.

They had a wedding to plan. A life to live. He couldn’t survive without his mate. Not his sunny and beautiful Kit. Pain spread through his chest. He could not lose Kit.

“Connie!” Hudson roared.

He heard Hudson yelling his name, but it didn’t matter. Nothing could stop the tidal wave of fear crashing over him.

“Listen to me, you overgrown lizard, I am fine, but I swear to God, if you don’t move your big damn foot claw thingy, Iamgoing to kick you. Connie? Do you hear me? Love, I am okay. Not a burn on me.”

Whereas Hudson couldn’t penetrate the panic, Kit’s slightly annoyed voice did. Kit was talking to him. Threatening to kick him. He was okay? Not a burn on him?

“Look at the bond, Connie.”

Kit said tolook at the bond, so Connie did as he was told. Opening his mind, he checked the strong tie between the three of them. It was there, as usual. Glowing as usual. Strong and bright, as usual.

Strong.

Bright.

No pain.

It was calm. No pain or fear was coming from Kit. No pain. If he’d been burned, there’d be pain, wouldn’t there? Of course there would be. Unless he was dead, and Connie’s mind veered toward darkness again.

No. No, Kit was not dead. He could hear Kit’s heart beating strongly. Since Connie was curled around his mate, he could feel the warmth radiating off Kit. So not dead. Not burnt to a crisp.

“Again, I’m fine. Unburned. Alive and just fine, except I have a huge ass dragon practically sitting on top of me. Connie? Please, I need you to get a grip,” Kit said.

“Connie? Sweetheart? Can you let him out, please? You’re scaring Kit,” Hudson finally said.

Scaring Kit? Oh no, he didn’t want that. Never that. He would rather cut off his tail than scare Kit. That was totally unacceptable. Slowly, he unwound from around his mate.

Kit sat calmly, knees to his chest and his arms wrapped around them. And sure, Connie stuck his snout closer to Kit and inhaled gently. Kit’s hair rustled as he sat there and let Connie scent him. He smelled like a lot of things, but what Connie did not smell was burned flesh.

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