Page 8 of Emerald Waves
I wasn’t asking you, dragon, I was just thinking to myself.
When you think to yourself, you are also thinking to me, and when you ignore my answers, my opinions and my desires, you piss me right the hell off, human. How can you expect to help Emerson see his worth when you think so little of yourself?
I hung my head at hearing that and hugged Emerson tighter. My dragon, as usual, was right. There had just been so many factors that had gone into my decision to stop hoping that there was a mate out there for me, things I’d come to grips with long ago, that hope had died in me. It had become easier to just tame my thirst with a willing omega when I was feeling randy and spend the remainder of my time on the projects I tended to down in my horde. Even my brothers knew nothing of them, or the careful efforts I’d put in to caring for the at-risk species of the seawho dwelled within the deep aquariums I’d built to house and breed them in. Over time, I’d been able to release some back into the wild in the hopes of boosting dwindling populations.
Much as Emerson tended the tombs and scrolls inside these walls, I saw to the careful collection and preservation of creatures at risk of disappearing completely thanks to human carelessness and greed. Oil spills, trash and chemical dumping, overfishing, as well as willful and malicious destruction of reefs had all played a part in the damage done to the world’s oceans, my second home. Earth may be my element but the sea and I were close friends.
When Emerson asked about flying my heart had soared, wanting to share that first moment with him. Now I wondered if he could swim or if he would find the sea too dangerous a place to venture out into. Would he think me the mad one when he got a glimpse of some of the creatures I’d rescued that could never be released to live in the wild again, like the sea turtle I’d created a prosthetic flipper for, so it could swim properly again. A boat propeller had left it injured and floundering with an extremely curious, hungry tiger shark closing in. The shark had been left to hunt for different prey, while the sea turtle I’d ironically named Trooper, I’d carried home with me.
Now that we were alone together, I didn’t know what to do next.
Yes, you do.
We cannot just bite and claim someone, he hasn’t given permission yet.
And you haven’t asked for it.
Doesn’t that need to be finessed? Romanced? We can’t just come out and ask to bite him.
I didn’t ask to remove the door to get to him, either, and I did not see you balk then.
Completely different situations, dragon, and besides, that door, along with the rest of the building, belongs to us.
As does he.
And he is of flesh and blood, not specially reinforced metal.
Harrumph.
Pulling back a little, I framed Emerson’s face in my hands so I could peer into his eyes. Poets called them the windows into the soul, and I guess they were, because what I saw in them was guarded caution, like he expected everything to change now that we were alone.
Slowly, in case it wasn’t welcome, I dipped my head and claimed his lips in a gentle kiss, shocked when he pressed closer and upped the intensity.
It’s welcome.
Now it was my turn to be thrown off guard.
How did you know that was why I hesitated?
Your dragon told mine. Now that we’re communicating, he’s filling me in on why you hesitated with me. Thank you.
W-what are you thanking me for?
Being honorable. He told me that you were afraid of trying to claim me because you feared that with all the confusion going on in my head, I wouldn’t be able to consent properly and that I’d regret anything that took place once my mind was clear.
I just didn’t want to do anything that you might not be onboard with. I would never hurt you or any omega that way. I didn’t want to start a mating with something so distasteful hanging over our heads, over my head, so I kept my distance, but I was angry, too.
At me?
No. At the fates for making it so you were right there within my grasp but completely untouchable.
I’m not untouchable, not to you.
I slid my hands through his hair, still a little damp from when the fever held him in its grasp, a reminder of how sick and hurt he’d been when I found him.
“We should get you cleaned up and fed,” I told him as I drew back, but never let my hands drop from his face. “Is it okay if I run you a bath. I don’t have to stay in there with you if you don’t want me to.”
“I’d like a bath, and for you to stay. If the tub were big enough, I-I’d want you to join me.”
