Page 30 of Rejected By Dragons

The great beating of wings ripples the air.

If a rogue dragon found me, I don't know what they would do. Could it be any worse than what Fury and Jasmine used to do to me daily? I shudder, remembering King Zephyr's threat if I refused to leave. Being robbed and murdered would be a mercy, compared to the fate I would have faced if I'd stayed in the Air Kingdom.

Fortunately, the dragon keeps flying on into the night. It takes a long time for me to relax, though.

I spot more signs of shifters in the next few towns. Familiar sigils spray-painted on an abandoned building. Suspicious burn marks on a roof. The scent of dragon-kind lingers in the air.

I have to find someplace safe to land. At least for a while. I've been conserving my savings, paying only for gas and food, but eventually, I'll need to find a job and a place to stay.

Maybe I should actually start paying attention to where I'm going. I've ignored the tug inside me, telling me to head south, for half my life. I could do it again. A few hundred miles west, there are cities where dragons are few and far between. I could disappear there. Live a normal human life.

But every time I think to do just that, my entire being rebels.

Hands firm on the wheel, I continue deeper into unclaimed territory and farther from civilization. It's so far between towns now that I worry I'll run out of fuel and die alone on the side of the road, but I press on and on.

Until one morning, the sun blazing overhead, I feel the pull inside my chest yank me with a viciousness that takes my breath away. I slam my foot into the gas, shocked and confused. A tremor runs through me, and there must be a reflection off something by the road. For a second, I'm blinded.

My engine sputters.

"Shit--" I turn the wheel hard, managing to steer to the shoulder before the car gives out. I try the ignition a half dozen times, but it's no use.

A new kind of pointless, exhausted rage threatens to swamp me.

I get out of the car, fuming as badly as it is. The door slams behind me, and I pace to the front. I pop the hood, but fuck if I know what's going on under there.

Despite the heat, a shiver racks me. If Storm were here, he'd know what to do. How many times did we fuck in his garage? He offered to show me how to change my oil, but I didn't even own a car. What was the point? Our time was so limited, anyway. I wanted to spend it focused on each other, not on some boring, greasy engine.

Thick tears flood my eyes.

How could I have been so stupid?

I pull my phone out of my pocket. I've been keeping it off as often as not. Other than a few brief reassurances I've sent to Brynn, I haven't needed it, and the reception out here in the desert is shit.

Of course, I have zero bars.

I squeeze the thing so tight I fear I'll crack the case. I shove it back in my pocket and lift my face to the sky.

The scream that leaves my lungs shocks even me. A raw, hopeless anger seizes hold of me. I kick the tires and bang my fist on the roof before sagging to the ground. I take my head in my hands. A sob rises to my throat.

Before I can let it out, a sudden shadow passes over me, though. I jerk my head up. The air stirs with the sound of leathery wings, and my heart goes into overdrive, slamming itself against the inside of my ribs.

Then, out of nowhere, a man drops down out of the sky.

Chapter Nine

EMBER

The panic that overwhelms me is so complete that there's a clarity to it. My senses sharpen until I'm seeing the dust motes floating in the air, smelling the ash and fire of this stranger's skin, hearing the low, steady thumping of his heart.

I blink rapidly, lifting my hand to shield my eyes from the sun.

He's handsome, of course--all dragons are. His complexion is a rich, medium brown, his lips full and his nose broad. His black hair has been buzzed short, and a serpentine tattoo snakes up his neck and over his head. More dark ink decorates his bare, muscular arms. He's dressed in a black leather vest and loose, copper-colored pants, and a part of me wants to climb him like a tree.

The other part is more reserved. There's something about him--some aura that tells me to keep my distance.

Which is probably for the best, considering.

"Well, well, well." He tips his head to the side, staring at me like a bug under a microscope. "What have we here?"

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