Page 71 of Claimed by the Savage Dragons
She lets out a breath and her eyes find mine. They’re steely and determined. Strong.
My fierce female is nowhere near broken.
Where did that thought come from?
I turn inward and find the dragon there, much closer to the surface than usual, but he seems content to look at her through my eyes and hear her through my ears. At least for now, so I don’t try to lock him down. He chuffs almost happily that I’m leaving him be.
My dragon, happy? That’s not normal.
I look at her again. She’s finished the soup and the bread and sighs contentedly, closing her eyes as she props herself up on her elbow on the counter.
‘I didn’t know,’ I say quietly, shame coursing through me that she was being treated like this right under my nose.
She looks at me and where I was afraid I’d see censure, I see mild curiosity instead.
‘Could have been worse,’ she says softly.
Could it?
I swallow hard, needing to ask the question even though I’m afraid of the answer, and I know that for once I won’t be able to keep the dragon inside. He’ll break free and he’ll kill any male here who smells like her.
‘None of the males… None of them… I mean,did they… Were you...’
She blinks at me and tilts her head, frowning at me as she shakes her head.
My relief is palpable. I stand up and walk to her side where I sink down to one knee.
I say the words I should have said, the ones my dragon wanted me to on that very first day. ‘I, Dreythos of the Stormriders Faction, do hereby swear to protect you, Mari of the south, from my kind as well as yours until your dragons return to your side.’
She gives me a smile and her fingers flutter down to touch the crown of my head. My dragon feels it and preens at her touch. My heart bursts with something I can’t name, but it feels like joy and light and everything in between. I’ve never felt so elated, yet so unworthy of anything in all my thousand years living on this earth.
I look up, smiling. The muscles in my face aching a little from disuse. She leans toward me. Is she going to kiss my forehead in some adorably human quirk? I hope so. She’s so beautiful. I stare at her as, in slow motion, she bends closer, her lips parting.
And then she throws up on me.
Her apology is choked and mortified as she stares down at me with wide eyes, taking in the pasty pieces of masticated bread inmy hair and all the red, undigested tomato soup running down my face.
‘It’s fine,’ I choke out, but she’s already sliding off the stool and sprinting to the bathroom where I hear her heaving whatever’s left in her stomach into the toilet.
When she doesn’t return after a few minutes, I go find her, hesitantly peering inside to find her sitting by the bowl with her head in her hands.
When she notices me, her eyes move over me, and she cringes.
‘Sorry,’ she says, standing up slowly. ‘I didn’t know that was going to happen. I was feeling better.’
‘It’s okay,’ I say.
‘I’ll go clean up,’ she says, trying to sidle past me, but my arm shoots out to the other side of the door jamb, stopping her.
‘No need. Someone’s already handling it.’
She looks like she wants to say something, but instead she sways on her feet, and her eyes roll back in her head.
I catch her easily, swinging her up into my arms awkwardly because I’m still covered in her vomit, and I don’t want to get it on her…stained human slave uniform.
Jesus I didn’t even notice that’s what she’s wearing.
I’m glad she can’t hear the snarl that comes out of me because it would surely terrify her.
