Page 5 of Alpha Dragon's Wings of Love

None.

It was time to accept that Fate did not find me deserving of my mate. Perhaps that was why I had arrived too late to connect with him at the rest stop. I’d always been told that Fate made no mistakes and that if she bestowed one upon a dragon, they should be grateful. Not everyone received a mate at all.

But nobody talked about my situation. What did it mean? Did she decide to give me one then take him back. Reassign him? That couldn’t be possible, could it?

Fly. Now!My dragon believed flying and breathing fire were the solution to all problems. Well, all but one. He’d never indicated he blamed me for arriving too late to see our mate, but I wouldn’t blame him if he did. I wouldn’t have even stopped there had the car not overheated. Didn’t that sound like a mating story to tell the hatchlings?I was driving along when my car suddenly overheated right by a rest stop. I pulled over and scented your dad.And that much was true. But in the preferred version, it ended with,and we lived happily ever after.

Not,I was a few minutes too late, and I lived miserably until I couldn’t take it anymore.

Fly!

I’m not up for it.Just didn’t have the desire to do anything but sit here on my porch steps and wallow in my wretchedness.Later.

Now.Before I could argue any further, a surge of energy ripped me apart. My clothing lay shredded under me as my shape shifted from human form to the much larger and more magnificent amethyst-winged being who consented to share my existence, for what reason I couldn’t imagine.

Quiet. We fly.

I’d never heard him so assertive before. Nor had he ever forced a shift. As he launched us into the air, wings rising and falling, I wondered what this meant. Had my lack of self-control prompted him to do the same—to act on his anger. I tried to reach him, to find out what he was doing, where we were going. What if he planned to harm anyone? A dragon’s rage was a fearsome thing. But he responded not at all to my queries and pleas, as if he either couldn’t hear me or didn’t care.

Not good. Controlling one’s dragon was vital to survival in a shared world. Those who could not were shut up in caves and never let out. Or at least so the old tales went. I’d never heard of anyone who knew of such a thing personally. But I would be willing to accept that banishment and confinement if it protected lives.

Don’t hurt anyone!

No reply. And then, out of nowhere, came the barest trace of a scent. One my other form had not been able to detect. High in the sky, over the trees, we swooped down the mountainside, the scent growing stronger. I would know it anywhere. Once having scented my mate, I could never forget.

My dragon wasn’t angry anymore—I’d been too startled to recognize that. Determined, elated, with a touch of fear. I didn’t know how to interpret that. Dragons had no fear. Why would he be scared? The ultimate apex predator…

Below us, the river coursed through the valley, its flow high at this time of year, lapping at the banks, taking away chunks of soil and low-hanging branches. Flood depth almost. We dropped to follow its course, the tantalizing scent rising to us with the spray as our wings nearly touched the water. He was close, so close. But in danger. That finally came through to me from the dragon. Our mate was in danger. The dragon was not telling me details, his focus on getting there, and it didn’t matter anyway. Whatever he faced, we would stand in front of him and take it down.

The wind whistled past as we followed the river’s twists and curves through the valley. The scent was so vivid now, I could almost see it in bright colors, the dragon’s interpretation of the sense. He was there; I would see him soon. In danger, but alive.

Fly faster!I demanded.Our mate needs us.As if the dragon didn’t know that. And then, I knew what to do. As long as I was trying to hold some level of control, it kept him from flying his fastest, my fears distracting him from what we needed to do. I stepped back into the recesses of our mind, an observer, ceding dominance to the beast. Only he knew where we were going and the best way to get there.

I saw something at the same time the dragon brought his wings in tight to drop to Earth on the side of the flowing, foaming water. Right at the edge, in danger of being carried off was a small form, brown and white and limp. That was no dragon, but the closer we drew to him, the more his scent surrounded us. Whatever this small and weak creature was, he was our mate.

As soon as his talons touched ground, the dragon allowed me to shift back. I fell to my knees next to the beast, which was a small dog. A beagle if I wasn’t mistaken. And he wasn’t moving. My heart pounded hard enough for both of us. I laid my hand on his back, holding my breath, terrified at what I might find. Could Fate be so cruel as to have stolen him away from me a second time?

At first, I felt nothing, no movement, and his furry back was cool. I squeezed my eyes closed, praying, begging for mercy from Fate or, if she had abandoned us, the Goddess herself. Then, my hand rose, a fraction of an inch, and then, again. Too far apart, and too shallow, but my mate was alive. I let out my held breath on the words, “I’ve got you, mate. Don’t be afraid. My dragon will carry you home.”

The very weakest twitch of a tail showed me he heard me—or at least I interpreted it as such.

“Mate, will you shift?”

His eyes opened, narrow slits, then closed again. He was simply too weak to do anything. I needed to get him home as quickly as possible. It was probably best that he stay in his fur anyway; it would lend him some heat until I could tuck him in bed with warm blankets and maybe a hot water bottle.

“I’m going to take my wings now.” I stood, not wanting to let go of him but also recognizing the need to hurry. “It will still be me, mate.” No response. But that was all right. As long as he was alive, we could work with this.

Stepping back a few feet, I turned myself over to my dragon and lifted one massive talon to close it around the small pup who was my mate. Even from inside this body, it was frightening looking. A dragon did not usually carry around small animals unless they were snacks, but he treasured our mate just as I did, and I trusted he would not hurt him.

But as we lifted off, our mate hanging from a talon, it took everything I had not to protest. He looked so vulnerable. It seemed to take forever to make it back to the cabin, and just before we were about to land, the beagle woke and wriggled, yipping and struggling, and holding him in place without harming him grew more difficult every second. I couldn’t speak to him, in this form, but I tried to reach his mind.

To no avail.

I used my other claw to stabilize him and flew as low over the trees as my dragon determined to be safe, but the whole time my heart thudded in my throat, or maybe my virtual throat because my dragon seemed calm and in charge. Finally, the cabin came into sight, and he held his wings out and hovered with our mate inches above the ground. He let him fall softly onto the grass then lifted a few feet away and landed. I shifted and ran to my mate’s side. I could see him breathing, but he was still in beagle form and showing no signs of shifting.

Gathering him in my arms, I cradled him tenderly against my bare chest and carried him up the steps and inside the cabin. My dragon and I agreed that we wanted him in our lair, which technically the cabin was, but more, we wanted him in our bed. Since I had made the loft into a master bedroom/sitting room, I climbed the stairs I’d also built and laid the beagle gently on my low bed.

“Mate, time to wake up. I know it was frightening to be carried by a dragon, but our dragon won’t hurt you. And he’s inside me now, so if you’ll shift to your two-legged form, we can get you comfortable and talk. I’ve wanted to see you for so long, and here you are.” I stroked his silky ears. “Can you hear me?”

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