Page 9 of Pierce

The dragon wouldn’t let up.

I tried to ignore its incessant voice, not to mention the cravings stirring in my loins.

As the dragon, it was harder to ignore what she was doing to me.

I could smell her, could feel her warmth against my skin. She was so small and helpless, and I could take her so easily. It could be over in an instant, and she would be mine forever, the way it was meant to be…

I shook my head, snorting hard in frustration. There were much more important things to consider, and the calling of my darker needs wasn’t helping.

As soon as it was safe, and I knew the worst of the climb up the mountain was over, I came to a stop and arched my back to allow the girl’s body a safe slide to the ground.

She landed in a heap. I turned to look at her, my sharp dragon eyes taking in every inch of her skin.

My desire rose again, stronger than it had been in centuries. She wore shorts in spite of the chill in the air, and her lean, smooth legs brought saliva to my mouth.

There was a small waist and full, firm breasts under the hoodie. I could make out their shape thanks to the way the wet fabric clung to her.

I could also make out the blood which soaked one shoulder of that hoodie. That splash of red was enough to wake me from the semi-trance the sight and smell of her body put me under.

She needs help.

I shifted back to human, and the dragon roared in disapproval, but he’d have to deal with it. As a human, I could kneel by her side and check her over a bit more carefully.

Her head had stopped bleeding, but her shoulder hadn’t. I peeled back the sticky cotton to find the wound still oozing. She must have done it when she hit the boulder—I didn’t remember it looking that way when she was in the car. I wondered if there was a break. What if it became infected?

I looked around, at a loss. Like there was anything around me that would provide answers. What was I supposed to do with her? She needed help, but I couldn’t get her anywhere. If I let her go, she would tell people about the dragon who carried her to safety. Then again, who would believe that? But how else could her rescue be explained?

Her car was on the forest floor by now, washed off the road. There was no other way for her to get down the mountain. The police would want to know. Word might get out on the news, on the internet.

The girl who claimed a dragon saved her from certain death.

What would happen then? It didn’t take a genius to follow the scenario to its natural conclusion. Anyone aware of the that which we were guarding would know there were dragons present in the Appalachian Mountains. They’d find out the general location and start their hunt. We’d be exposed, in danger. It would risk our mission. We had worked hard and made countless sacrifices, and she could undo all of it.

But she’s ours. She’s meant for us. The dragon wouldn’t stop insisting on being heard.

She’s too big a risk. I have to let her go, I thought.

A roar of outrage filled my head. She is our mate! You will not allow her to die!

“What am I supposed to do?” I shouted out loud, my voice echoing off the mountainside and throughout the valley below.

I heard myself asking the same question again and again, until the echoes overlapped and eventually faded into silence.

I looked down at her again, torn between self-preservation and pity. And the constant nagging from the dragon, though I did what I could to keep him to a dull roar. He wasn’t helping.

I couldn’t leave her. It was as simple as that. I’d never forgive myself. I’d always know she was there, that her beauty was rotting under the sun and rain and snow, that the animals would get to her before long and tear her flesh to pieces.

With that image in my head, I lifted her as gently as I could and made the decision to create a very big problem for myself.

We hadn’t used the cells for almost as long as I could remember, not since the very early days when we faced discovery by a group of hunters who’d stumbled upon us and tried to attack.

It had been no contest, but those who had survived the fight had spent the rest of their short, miserable lives locked up inside a separate series of tunnels connected to the rest of our underground compound but existing on the other side of the mountain. The tunnels were divided into six separate cells, each lined with iron bars. I hadn’t even visited them in more than a hundred years, but used to sometimes escape there for the sake of being alone and hearing myself think.

Television, video games, internet and the like had made it easier to entertain ourselves and stay out of each other’s hair when needed, but that wasn’t the case only a century earlier.

There was an entrance on the opposite side of the mountain from the cave mouth where Cash still stood sentry, and I wasted no time getting there. The sooner I had her inside, away from the risk of discovery, the better.

And that meant keeping her from the rest of the family, too.

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