Page 32 of Dragon's Flame
The dog barked affirmatively yet again—and then ran out to grab Tarian’s abandoned dress pants and pull them back into the cave for safekeeping.
She watched the dog work in her peripheral vision, and then shrugged.Sure, why not.A talking dog wasn’t even a contender for Today’s Weirdest Thing.
Which had definitely been Tarian pulling some sort of strange monstrosity out of her.
With . . . magic.
Dragon magic.
Because he loved her.
It was clear he did. Not her-her, really, but his Seris, who he saw inside her somewhere.
Which was why everything he did he did with care. Like she was delicate—no, that was the wrong word. So was fragile.
Cherished felt more apt.
And she still had no idea aboutanythingabout him.
Except for the fact that he was afucking dragon.
Her eyes scanned the sky, longing to see him come back. Not because she wanted him near—that would be silly.
But because she wanted to see a dragon again.
He didn’t return quickly, though—and she wondered how long he would be gone.
“Do you know where some fresh water is?” she asked the dog, without tearing her eyes away from the horizon.
The dog—Rocky, she remembered—yipped.
“Okay,” she said, finally focusing on him. “Can you take me there? I’m thirsty—and I probably need a bath.”
She ignoredevery warning she’d ever heard about giardia, guzzled fresh water straight from the spring, and scrubbed Tarian’s jacket clean—his blood, his scent, all of it. But by the time she returned to the cave, Rocky at her side, he still wasn’t back.
She waited for hours, feeding the fire the few pieces of wood that Tarian had left in a pile to keep it going, but then perched herself near the entrance, scanning the skies, while Rocky chased birds out in the sand, endlessly racing back and forth.
She wasn’tworriedabout him.
Not exactly.
It was just that... she had no idea how far he’d gone. Or how long dragons stayed in the air. Or what, exactly, he might be flying into.
And that should behisproblem, not hers. But something gnawed at her, right beneath her ribs.
A feeling.
It wasn’t nerves, exactly, or even instinct—it was something deeper. A tug, right in her chest. Like an invisible thread pulling, stretching toward something in the distance.
She pressed a hand against her sternum, frowning.
Was it real? Or just in her head?
She closed her eyes slowly.If he can feel me... can I feel him?
At first, there was nothing. Just the wind curling in off the sea and the roar of nearby waves.
But then—she felt it.
