Page 5 of Rejected By Dragons

How many times have I fantasized about running back to my aunt's house, packing my bag and just...going? For a second, I indulge the idea. I don't have a car, but I know where my aunt keeps the keys to hers. I have enough money saved up to leave her a few grand for it; that's all the rust bucket is worth, anyway. I could put down the windows and drive and drive.

Freedom bubbles up inside me.

There's always been a tug. This strange instinct, pulling me south and away from this hellhole town. I could follow it. I could find a place beyond the Air Kingdom's borders. The neutral territories to the south of here are supposedly filled with the outcasts and criminals and rejects of the shifter world, but what do I care? I might fit right in.

Only...

My phone buzzes in my pocket.

I hadn't realized I'd closed my eyes, but I snap them open. I find myself in the deserted alleyway, Fury, Jasmine and the other assholes long gone. A shiver races along my skin, and I reach for the ragged edges of my shirt. I pull them together over my naked cleavage, cursing Jasmine all over again. I actually liked this top.

With my other hand, I pull my phone out. The text from Storm is pointedly short.

Storm: Where r u?

I suck in a deep breath. My thumb shakes as I tap out a reply.

Ember: On my way.

Blanking the screen, I force myself to stand up tall.

The idea of running away from my shitty life as Wynrath Crest's town punching bag is just a daydream. When my mother dumped me here, she told me to stay. Even now, I'm reluctant to disobey her.

I have a home here. Responsibilities. Maude would need someone else to help out with the store. My aunt would probably care if I just up and left; she'd definitely care if I took her car. My cousin Brynn would miss me terribly, and I'd miss her.

And Storm...

Well.

Let's just say that Jasmine isn't the only one who has a dragon prince on her side.

Chapter Two

STORM

The instant Ember slips in the back door, rage fills my gut. My dragon flares, on the verge of losing his shit. It's only an entire lifetime of practice that allows me to keep him under control.

I can smell the blood.

Holding on tight to my restraint, I set down the exhaust pipe for the '67 Camaro I've been "fixing up" for over a year now. It's not like I was really working on it anyway, what with Ember being on her way.

It's not like I've made much progress on it at all.

Between my dad constantly bossing me around and the vigilance required to keep the people I love safe, I don't have a lot of time for tinkering. At this point, I hold on to the garage more as a meeting spot for me and Ember than as a place to work on the car.

I stalk around the rear bumper of the Camaro and out into the back office. Ember has her back to me as she sets down her bag. Angry as I am, my body can't help but react to finally having her in the same room with me after days without seeing her. She's fucking gorgeous. Slim but curvy in all the right places, with pale skin, her hair hanging in long, black waves to half-way down her spine. Dark blue jeans hug her hips, making me want to put my hands on them and tug her close. Grind my rapidly hardening cock against her ample rear end.

Then she turns around.

My dragon hurls himself at my ribs again, and a growl escapes my throat.

She's a mess. She doesn't use a lot of make-up, but the black stuff around her eyes is smudged. A line of blood runs down the center of her chest. The dark gray, beaded T-shirt she's wearing is torn, and I don't even have time to notice the fact that I can see the tops of her full breasts.

I curl my hands into fists at my sides. "What did they do."

She shakes her head, but her eyes shine with unshed tears. She's always been so fucking strong. So intent on keeping her pain inside.

"It's nothing."

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