Page 38 of Storm of Blood and Shadow

“That’s fair.” I chuckle.

“But I am grateful. They would have raped me. So... thank you.”

“What is rape?” I ask. “That is not a word used among dragons.”

Her cheeks redden. “It’s a forced mating, where the male puts his cock into an unwilling female. It causes her great physical and emotional pain.”

“That is a cruel thought,” I reply. “I have not heard of such things occurring among dragons, at least not for decades. Perhaps among rogue dragons, but certainly not civilized ones.”

She smiles. “You consider yourselves civilized?”

“Do you think us brutes?” I counter. “We have our own language, history, poetry, and culture. We preserve the land, using only what we need. We are governed by laws, and we live in harmony with each other.”

Jessiva considers me for a moment, twisting her red braid. “No, I don’t think you’re a brute. I think you’re one of the most considerate beings I’ve ever met.”

I rumble low in my chest, prowling closer to her. “Even though I refuse to let you go?”

“Even then.”

I nuzzle the side of her head, inhaling the scent of her hair. “Eat your dinner, darling.”

Jessiva turns her face, her lips brushing the side of my muzzle. I can feel the pressure, and I can see the softness of her mouth against my scales. Deep in my heart quakes a miserable longing to feel every inch of her—to touch her, like humans touch each other, skin to skin.

She keeps her mouth pressed to the side of my muzzle, wrapping her right arm beneath my jaw, pulling my face closer to hers. It’s an intimate gesture, a moment so lovely and fragile that I don’t dare move. My heart thunders like a storm at sea, and lightning crackles deep in my chest, along the edges of the vast, dark emptiness in my soul.

Behind me, the light of the sun fades as it dips below the horizon, leaving the world bathed in golden dusk.

A horrible, searing vibration runs over my scales, right through my bones. For a moment I’m sure that my greatest fear is coming true—that the enormous void inside me is imploding, sucking me into itself—that it’s finally about to destroy everything I love.

For one horrific instant, I am bodiless. I do not exist.

And then I am solid again, my physicality restored, except…

Oh fuck…

I collapse onto the cave floor, shaking uncontrollably, shock searing like fire along my bones.

Jessiva screams and scuttles away from me.

I’m wrong. I’m bent, I’m shrunken, I’m… I’msoft.

I cry out, but what I intend as a roar of shock is a helpless whimper. Fuck, even my mouth feels different. Strange blunt teeth, a short rounded tongue—I can barely form words.

I’ve been crushed, reduced, unmade… I’m dying. My magic has finally destroyed me. My heartbeat swells to terrifying proportions, pounding with cataclysmic violence against my ribs. I can’t breathe.

Jessiva’s face appears over me, and her red braid swings into view. She’s whiter than usual, her eyes enormous with shock. And she’s larger than she should be.

“It’s alright,” she says faintly. “You’ll be alright. I’m going to put my hand on your chest, and you’re going to breathe. Ready?”

I feel her hand. I feel each slim finger and her warm palm, on my—

I look down.

Her hand is splayed on my chest. My human chest.

I vent a garbled, panicked sound, like the bleat of a mountain goat.

“Don’t try to understand it yet.” Jessiva’s voice falters. “Close your eyes. Breathe. Good… again. Deep breath. And again, deeper this time.”

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