Page 54 of Dragon's Flame
And then things got inestimably worse as small creatures started pouring out of the interstices between the webbing, coming for her, like so many little globular ants, crawling up her feet and into her pant legs.
The first bite was tiny. The second was worse.
She screamed, she couldn’t help it, panicking, fully aware that it would be the last time she opened her mouth, because if she did it again, that might mean that thosethingscould get in, and she made herself as small as she could, while the webbing still held her aloft.
But she kept shrieking internally.
Tarian!
Where are you?
48
TARIAN
Tarian had only barely made it to the parking lot before changing and following the bond between them like a road.
He could feel Kenna’s fear spiking, but she was close, and he knew exactly how much time they had left. He wheeled in the sky and began flying in a blood-colored streak, chasing her down, haunted by her last confession.
And then he was nearly blasted from the sky—not from anything external, but from a tidal wave of sheer emotion flowing through their bond.
She was in danger—now—and if he didn’t get there and—save her?—
The thought wasn’t worth thinking, especially as he knew he was near. He flew over a low mountain range, and then found the bladed machine on one of the peaks, right outside a giant cement cube, and he knew instantly that Kenna was inside.
The first thing he did was destroy the flying contraption. No one was leaving here. He thrashed his tail through it, shattering it like a toy as Rocky ran up.
“She’s inside! They’re hurting her! Hurry!” he barked, and Tarian did not need to be told twice.
He returned to his human form for long enough to break the door open and take bullets to the chest, then changed back into a dragon once inside, finding room. The cube held a giant empty space, full of men who were shooting things at him. One rocket tore through a wing, and another hit his breast, shooting off a smattering of scales.
And along the far wall of it was a massive, throbbing cocoon.
He howled Kenna’s name with his dragon’s tongue and plunged forward, knocking more of the men fighting him out of the way, then hauled up short when he reached the structure, knowing she was trapped inside.
He brought his claws to bear, trying to carefully shred it, but there were creatures inside spinning more of it just as fast as he could tear, working at a frenzied pace, thickening the walls faster than he could rip them down.
Because he couldn’t rip blindly—he needed to save her—whereas all that they wanted was seemingly to drown her in their silk.
He shouted her name again, feeling his body pummeled on both sides by strange human weapons, hearing men shout and Rocky bark in between shots, and always the bond between him and Kenna pulsing—until it started to wane.
He froze.
She had been as open to him as the sun on a cloudless day.
But now—there was less light from her—the heat of their bond growing cold, flickering like a dying candle.
He shouted, looked over his shoulder, and he didn’t aim. He didn’t need to, he released a gout of flame, incinerating everyone who’d had the bad luck to be standing behind him on his right-hand side.
And then he changed into a man, because plunging through the webbing with his hands to find her seemed safer, and he was going to find her, he had to.
“Kenna!” he shouted—and heard a muffled groan.
49
KENNA
She was covered in them, thousands of stinging, biting mites. They were shellacked against her like a second skin, and they were siphoning the life from her.
