I regain consciousness slowly. It feels like I’m still trapped in a dream, like I was down two layers and I’ve only come up one.

Everything’s hazy. My lungs are burning, my throat is itching, and my eyes sting.

I feel weightless. Where am I? What’s happening?

Everything’s floating… I’m floating…

Maybe I’m dead. Or dying. This is the moment of transition. The fire got to me while I was a sitting duck and now I’m passing on. If so, I’m glad it doesn’t hurt. It’s peaceful, almost. There’s even a kind of breeze ruffling my hair and I have this impression of being safe. Of being protected. It’s the oddest thing, honestly, but I’d even dare to say that it feels like home.

Then my body shifts, like someone’s lifting me, and dropping me.

That jolts me awake.

I’m not dreaming. I can’t possibly dream that sort of lurch. And I’m not dying, either. Not that I’m an expert on near-death experiences or anything like that, but I’m ninety percent sure dying wouldn’t feel like this. Nope. This isn’t death.

My eyes have closed again from the sting but I force them to open. I have to know what’s going on.

I’m lying in the fetal position on the ground in some kind of clearing. There are trees around me—I’m still in the forest. I can see smoke in the distance. It’s close enough that the air feels unnaturally warm and a panic starts to rise in my chest again.

Where am I? What happened? I’ve still got my bag wrapped up in my arms. Did I somehow crawl or stumble out here in a daze, trying to escape the flames? This part of the forest doesn’t look familiar to me. My cabin’s nowhere to be seen.

And then I see it.

My breath catches in my throat and I almost choke from a coughing fit. It’s a little blurred by the smoke, but I can’t be dreaming. I’m not the type of person to give in to flights of fancy, and I know what I’m seeing right now is nothing I’ve ever studied in the animal kingdom.

It’s huge. It’s got scales in shades of dark blue and purple and red, like metal that’s been plunged into flame. And wings, actual, honest-to-God wings that stretch up and out. They look like bat wings in shape and form except they’ve got a mottled blue-purple-red pattern to them. Almost like camouflage—If the trees were blue, purple, and red.

My scientist brain is cataloguing on instinct. Four legs. A tail that flicks lazily back and forth on the ground. Claws. An elongated snout. Sharp teeth, two sets. And blazing bright blue eyes, like the very heart of a flame.

Eyes that are staring right at me with a very human intelligence.

I want to scream but my throat closes up and I lie very, very still. If this creature, whatever it is, is going to eat me, then screaming isn’t going to help. Who’s going to reach me in this inferno, anyway?

The creature stares at me for a moment, running its gaze over me, almost like it’s assessing me. Then it slowly backs away and vanishes into the smoke.

I sink into the ground like a puddle; tension I didn’t even know I was carrying pouring out of me. What the hell was that?

Part of me, I have to admit, is curious. Wants to lurch after the creature, see if I can get a better look, maybe study and document it. But the rest of me is sensible and knows that I’m probably going to collapse the moment I try to stand. I’m still in danger from the fire. I have to find the strength to get up, and get away. If only I knew where I was, and if only my lungs weren’t killing me. I need water, and maybe an oxygen mask, and badly.

Another, tinier part of me wonders if that creature saved me. It had wings. What if that was the breeze I felt? Something set me down, something jostled me.

I dismiss that. Clearly the smoke’s messing with my head.

C’mon Rebecca, I tell myself. Get a grip.

I brace my hand on the ground and slowly, carefully, leverage myself up to a sitting position.

And immediately start coughing.

My eyes sting with tears from the way my body shakes. It feels like I can’t catch my breath, and my throat is so raw I’m worried I’ll tear it with a cough.

“Ma’am?”

I look up. There’s a man—a firefighter—emerging from the woods. From the same spot where that creature disappeared. He’s tall. As he gets closer, I can see his square jaw, his light brown hair… and his bright blue eyes.

Something about those eyes mesmerizes me.

As he approaches me, I stop coughing and my throat actually feels a little better. The firefighter crouches down. “Ma’am, I’m Xerxes, I’m one of the firefighters clearing the area. Are you able to walk?”

I don’t know, but I’m damned well going to try. I nod, and accept the hand he offers to help pull me up. Once I’m on my feet I wobble slightly but then regain my bearings.

“Just take some deep, slow breaths,” the firefighter, Xerxes, tells me. His voice is low and soothing, kind of gravely, like it’s a growl just waiting to happen.

He’s definitely the most attractive man I’ve ever met. He seems nice enough. And my skin doesn’t crawl from him holding my hand. I’ve got kind of a thing about touching me—don’t. But his touch feels nice.

Somehow, all of it sets me on edge. My instincts are screaming that something isn’t right. I’m not saying this guy’s secretly a serial killer or anything, but there’s definitely something off about him. I sense it the most when I look into those blue eyes.

“I’m going to get you to safety, okay?” Xerxes tells me. “We’re going to have to walk, but it’s not too far. We’ll join up with the rest of my crew and we’ll get you home.”

Home. What’s home? All I have is what’s in my bag.

It’s not the first time I’ve lost a home, been reduced to nothing except for what I could carry. At least now it’s in my nice bag that I picked out myself instead of in a trash bag. I should, by all rights, be used to it by now.

But I’m not. I liked that cabin, I liked being alone and out in nature, I enjoyed my time. I picked out that cabin, dammit, it was mine.

Xerxes seems to sense my distress. “It’s not easy, I know, but it’ll be alright. You’ll see. Should we start walking? Can you manage that?”

“I can manage just fine, thanks,” I tell him, snatching my hand away. I start walking, and then pause. Maybe…

“Hey, did you see anything?” I ask. I already feel stronger, my lungs don’t burn, and talking’s a lot easier than I thought it would be. Maybe I got lucky, maybe I didn’t inhale as much smoke as I’d thought. “Over there?”

I indicate where I saw the creature.

Xerxes looks at me, confused. “No, it was just you out here.”

“And how’d you find me?” I ask

Xerxes looks a little… I wouldn’t go so far as to say panicked, but definitely thrown off-balance. A chill creeps down my spine.

“We’re walking the perimeter,” he tells me. “There are cabins all over this area. We were told to seek them out if we could get through the blaze, try and save anyone who was trapped.”

“And you just stumbled upon the spot I was in.” These woods are huge. I’m nowhere near my cabin. Just stumbling across me had to be like finding a needle in a haystack.

Xerxes seems to sense that I’m not buying it, because he gives me a smile. It’s charming, I admit, but it’s not getting rid of my suspicions. “I heard you, before you collapsed. I followed your voice.”

I definitely wasn’t screaming for help or anything. I would’ve remembered that. “Uh-huh.”

I don’t press him any further, but this isn’t adding up. A strange creature is watching me, and I somehow get myself—while unconscious, mind you—far enough away from my cabin that I don’t recognize the area, and then a firefighter just conveniently appears out of nowhere to save my ass? Call me cynical, but I’m not buying it.

Something’s wrong.