Page 276 of Caveman (Wild Men 1)

My brows draw together. Zane is sitting on the bed, holding a sheaf of paper in his hands, staring at it.

“Hey.” I pad over, and sit by his side. “What have you got…?”

It’s my drawing of Zane, from when he was lying in a coma at the hospital. Well, one of the many I drew, which are now stacked next to him on the mattress.

My heart pounds as I study the drawing. The slack face, the oxygen mask, his tattooed arms resting on the covers and all the magical creatures surrounding him. Protecting him. Fighting for him, because I couldn’t.

“This is…” His voice is faint. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah,” I whisper. Holy crap. Embarrassment heats up my face. I didn’t mean for him to see the drawings and feel especially stupid for all the dragons and spiders I covered the empty space with.

I also feel bad for drawing him when he had no sense of his surroundings, without his permission. Then again, he’s looking at my stack without my permission, so I guess we’re even.

“I needed something to do at the hospital while I waited for you to wake up,” I say. “Drawing calmed me down.”

He shakes his head, then snags an arm around me waist and hauls me closer, so that our legs touch. “It’s really good. You have talent.”

I nervously wipe a hand over my nose. “I can’t draw like you. Your drawings are awesome. Mine are like a three-year-old’s.”

“Dakota.” His arm tightens. “I’m serious. This is fucking good, and…” His fingers clench on the paper. “And thank you. Can’t thank you enough.”

I nod and put my arms around his waist. I rest my head on his shoulder, looking down at the drawing.

“Did I really have dragons and spiders floating around me?” He shakes me lightly, and I smile.

“It’s white magic. I called on them for their help.” Yeah, talk about feeling stupid about it now. “You said they bring luck.”

“I did.” He smoothes a finger over a fire-breathing dragon. “Is that why you want a dragon tattoo?”

The answer isn’t simple. I’m silent for a beat, considering my words. “I don’t think I need one anymore.”

He looks at me, his dark eyes curious. “What changed?”

Everything. I try to expand that one word into more. “I don’t need a symbol to tell me what I know. I don’t need others to know, as long as I know it.” I lick my lips. “And I have you.”

He grins at that and plants a kiss on my brow. “I vow to protect you from the monsters.”

“You’d better.”

He snorts and lifts the drawing higher, studying it. “Well, I’m glad you don’t want a dragon anymore.”

“Big surprise,” I grumble and pout. “Can’t count all the times I asked and was denied. Bastard.”

He snorts. “Yeah, well. That doesn’t mean you’ll escape my tattoo gun.”

What? I gape at him. “You’ll ink me?”

His eyes darken, and a positively wicked gleam fills them. “Damn right I will. But I have a different design in mind.”

“What? What design?”

But he drops the drawing and lifts me to my feet. “I’ll show you later. Now we’re late. Let’s go.”

Somehow my family was notified that I’m bringing a special guest with me, and to Aunt Carolina’s great pleasure, they have all gathered at the hospital to meet him. In the corridor outside her room, there’s lots of laughter and enthusiastic thumping on backs and air-kissing going on as I greet my countless aunts and uncles, cousins, nephews and nieces, grand-uncles and grand-aunts.

“So where’s the young man?” Grand-aunt Nebraska demands to know. She’s five-foot-tall, including the hair piled on top of her head like a coiled python. She waves her walking cane to get my attention, and everyone jumps back before they get hit.

Uncle Nelson crashes into a nurse and starts laughing. His booming laughter is notorious in the family, and it sets off several of my younger cousins. I giggle, and turn to look for Zane.

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