With no other extremely pressing matter looming, Addison and I decide to leave the very next day.

The dream was disturbing—and that was before I realized Addison shared it with me. If there is a message in it for us, an actionable one, we need confirmation, as much as I am loath to admit it. I do not like dealing in such nebulous subjects—dreams should be just that: dreams, with no meaning beyond, perhaps, a way to process thoughts and emotions. I do not like that this particular dream has forced me to consider something beyond what I can see and taste and feel, something that is not so easily categorized or proven.

But I am also not going to ignore it just because I am uncomfortable with it. Especially not when it also involved Addison.

I look over at her. The suns shine down on her with their harsh light, her hair shining under it, her cheeks flushed with heat. Moisture coats her skin, causing it to also reflect the light. She continues to trudge forward, her feet sinking with each step she takes. The loss of water through the humans' natural cooling mechanism is quite unfortunate, but they were never built for the climate here on Tajss. Nor were they created to travel across the desert sands with ease.

I take another gliding step, my wings automatically flaring, helping to keep my body light enough that I do not sink despite my greater weight. I have to slow my speed down considerably so I do not leave her behind.

"Are you certain you do not want help?" I ask once again.

Her delicate jaw clenches, and she shakes her head, her eyes focused on the sand in front of her.

"No, I’ve got this." She glances over at me, her smile somewhat grim. "Thank you."

I nod, resisting the urge to simply grab her and move forward quickly. If she does not want the aid, I do not want to force the issue. Even if it will mean swifter travel. Instead, I focus my energy on the area around us, making certain there are no threats that may catch us unawares. With Addison in my care, I do not want to take any chances.

So as she continues to valiantly fight through the desert she is not physically equipped for, I move forward, my eyes scanning the horizon. Then I circled around to the back and from side to side. Threats could appear from any direction, after all. All the while, I keep a critical eye on Addison. When she appears as though she requires a rest, I stop.

"Why are we stopping?" she asks, wiping at her brow.

"For water and food," I reply easily, moving over to a large rock that casts just enough shade to cover both of us. "Come—we will travel faster if we ensure we take appropriate breaks."

She moves over to me, nodding. Her sigh of relief is heartfelt as the shade covers her and she sits down. Her coloring starts to look better again after some water and dried meat. The rest was necessary.

"How much farther is the Tribe?" she asks, taking another careful sip of water.

"We have traveled perhaps half the distance," I judge, looking out at the desert spread in front of us.

She nods. After a few more minutes of quiet rest, she stands.

"Okay, I'm ready. I know we just stopped because of me," she adds with a slight smile. "Thank you."

I nod. There is no use denying it. We return to our original path and continue to move forward. And I continue to vary my position, scouting all around us while Addison fights through the sand. I hover around her briefly to ensure she does not need another rest. Her coloring is still good and she is continuing to drink water at regular intervals. We can go a bit longer before a break. With a nod, I scout forward once more, my eyes scanning the area automatically.

I am so accustomed to seeing sand and rocks and nothing else at this point that it takes a moment to register that the shapes to the right are not either. The hulking mounds across each creature’s back coupled with the sharp spikes scattered over their leathery hide make them easy to identify.

Guster.

Five of them.

The one in front locks its eyes on me, emitting that odd hissing growl, revealing razor-sharp teeth. The group fanned out behind it growls in response. Their speed increases, the wide webbed feet at the end of their thick legs helping them stay above the sand as they move. The shape of their ribs shows through the thick hide, and there is a slight looseness to their skin.

The large lizards are starving—and they have just found a possible meal.

I turn, leap back over the dune that hid them from us and make my way back to Addison as quickly as possible. There is only time to warn her before they will be upon us.

"A pack of guster are just over that dune," I call out, stopping some distance in front of her. I want to keep some space between her and them. "Move back. Now!" I order.

Her face pales as she stumbles to a halt.

"Guster?" she repeats.

"Yes. Go!"

She nods rapidly, stepping back just as the group crests the dune directly in front of us.

I swing my lochaber, warming my wrists and forearms, and focus on the guster leading the group. The fact that it is larger and positioned in the front tells me that it is the alpha of the pack.

If I kill it, there is a possibility that it will activate the others' flight response, a panic reaction to their leader dying.

Or it could trigger them to attack.

I need to take the chance. There is no other way.

The group rushes at me, but the leader is going faster than the others, a substantial amount of distance between it and the rest.

Good. It will give me more time.

Its eyes lock on mine, the predatory hunger in them clear. When I am certain its attention is fully on me, I deliberately start to move to the side.

Away from Addison and her retreat.

I need to keep their attention fully on me. To that end, I keep spinning the lochaber, hoping the excess movement, the sparkle and shine of the metal in the sun, will help hold their attention.

It works. The alpha veers over to me, its tail flicking behind it in a sinuous motion, its jaws agape.

It charges, putting in the last bit of speed it has left to add.

I hold my ground for a beat. I need to time this well...

When I can almost feel the heat of its breath on me, I leap into the air and slice down at the head, my wings helping me hold the apex of the jump long enough so I can aim. But it whips around faster than I expect it to, the loss of some of its bulk making it more flexible. I shift, pulling my blade out and attempting to dodge the sharp teeth.

I half succeed.

I grunt as the teeth rake my calf, but I yank my leg out quickly enough that it cannot bite down and lock its jaws on me.

I land on the sand, the wounds bleeding sluggishly. They are not too deep.

Enraged at the close call and by the wound I have inflicted, the guster attacks again immediately, its eyes now crazed. Already starving, it has nothing to lose.

"Melchior!" Addison cries out in fear.

I do not turn to look. I know the others are coming towards me, not her.

I run towards the alpha this time, adjusting the grip on the handle of my weapon. I need to ensure this wound is mortal.

Closer.

Closer...

I veer to the right at last moment, stabbing at the thing's eye using all of my force.

It slows me down and locks me into place long enough that it manages to whip its tail around, bending its body almost in half as it crashes into my side.

I grit my teeth at the burst of pain, but I know there was not enough force in the blow to truly damage me, not when it had to bend so far. I keep my grip on the handle, shoving the blade even farther into the wound that was once its eye, my feet skidding in the sand, the muscles in my arms burning at the force required to pierce past the eye.

It screeches, whipping its tail at me again, targeting the same area on my side. I wince at the pain. With a few more hits, it might break my ribs, so I cannot allow it those few more hits.

Not when Addison is not yet safe.

With a roar, I use my fear at that thought to drive the blade in the rest of the way, cracking through the bone of the skull, sliding into the brain just past it.

The guster jerks, its entire body spasming as I cut into its head.

I twist, grunting.

It shudders.

And finally falls limp. The tail falls to the ground, no longer attempting to beat me. The great ribcage stills.

Adjusting my grip on the handle of my lochaber, I pull hard. It releases the blade with a squelching sound. I step back, turning towards the rest of the group, not waiting to watch as the body falls to the ground.

Three of the others have already turned around, running back in the direction they came from.

The fourth is still coming...

I widen my stance, readying myself... But, with only another stride left between us, it hisses at me, and turns sharply to the side, scrambling up the dune to run away as well. I stay tensed, alert, the sound of my breath harsh as I watch them flee.

"Melchior, you're hurt!"

I relax somewhat, finally shifting my attention when Addison hurries over to my side.

"Minor wounds," I reassure her, looking down at cuts in my calf and my reddened side. It will bruise, but when I feel it there is no deeper damage.

"Let me get a look at the cuts at least," she insists, using her water to wet a scrap of fabric she takes out of her pack.

Warmed at her concern, I stay still as she crouches down, frowning while she uses the water and the fabric to clean the gouges. They have already stopped bleeding and are beginning to scab.

Even under the circumstances, I enjoy the softness of her hands, the delicate way in which she touches me. It is so different from how I or the other Zmaj administer to wounds.

Apparently reassured after cleaning the wounds, she stands up again.

"Thank you," she murmurs, meeting my eyes. Hers are serious, sincere. "You saved my life."

"No thanks are needed," I reassure her, looking away to collect myself and to scan the area around us again. I do not like that we have stayed in the same spot for even this long. "Though..." I turn back to her. "I do have a request."

"Anything," she agrees immediately. "What do you need?"

"Can I help you travel the rest of the way? We will shorten our journey. And I want to leave this area as quickly as possible."

In case the guster circle back around to us, decide the danger is worth the hunt with their bellies so empty.

Addison looks around uneasily, understanding my concern.

"Yes," she agrees. "You're right."

I feel a wash of relief. The more quickly we reach the Tribe, the sooner she will be safe.

"Thank you. If you will position yourself here..."

I maneuver her so she is on the side that was not bruised in the attack, wrapping my arm around her slender waist securely. The side of her body presses up against the side of mine in one long line. She hesitates slightly when she wraps her own arm around my waist, so I reach down and tighten it.

"Hold on securely," I warn. "I do not want to worry that you will fall or hurt yourself."

She nods, holding me more tightly, biting her lip as she does so. Her cheeks are pink with embarrassment.

I feel the flush of reaction myself, my entire body tingling from the contact, my entire being focused on her.

"Ready?" I murmur, my voice lower than usual, a reaction to her proximity. I inhale deeply, the scent of her familiar and exciting.

"Yes."

I nod. Flaring my wings, I leap into the air, moving swiftly. I want to travel as quickly as I can. Addison makes a small, surprised sound, her grip tightening on me even more. I skim over the sand, the desert flying past us, my head turning from side to side to ensure we do not run headlong into danger.

The entire time, despite everything, I am acutely aware of her small, slender body pressed up against mine. Of the wild beat of her heart, a flutter I can feel against my torso. Of her soft skin, a slender strip of it revealed by the way her shirt slowly creeps up from my hold. It is just as smooth as I imagined it would be. And her hair...it brushes up against me teasingly with every movement, silky and shining...

The surreptitious glances she sends me and her elevated heartbeat tell me she is not immune to physical closeness.

What would it be like to revel in all that softness? To be able to touch her everywhere, taste her...?

I suppress a growl, the images flooding my mind more than distracting. My cocks harden in response. I attempt to shift my attention to something else, to focus on anything and everything else. But I am only somewhat successful, and only for brief periods. By the time we arrive at the Tribe's cave system, my attention is so fixed on her, I do not know how I can maintain my composure, even in front of the others.

I set down just outside the wall, letting go of Addison even though I want to pull her even closer. She steps away immediately, turning towards me.

"Thank you, Melchior," she murmurs, looking up to meet my eyes. The warmth in her expression, in her dark eyes, draws me in. And it is as though she feels the same connection, the same draw, her eyes not leaving mine as we both simply stare at each other. The trip here was more than simply travel. It managed to bring us closer together, to strengthen this bond that has been building between us. Our attention is so completely fixed on each other that we do not realize anyone else is around us until Bashir calls out a greeting.

I watch Addison start, her face reddening as she turns to return the greeting. I am a bit slower in my own response.

"Welcome," he murmurs, looking between the two of us. His eyes sharpen when he notices the wounds on my calf. "Did you encounter trouble?" he asks, looking beyond us into the desert.

"A pack of starving guster," I explain, forcing my mind back on track.

"A pack?" Bashir repeats, appearing startled.

"Five of them," Addison confirms. "Melchior killed one and the others ran."

"Ah." Bashir turns back to me. "How far?"

"Close enough," I return. "We can go gather the meat now."

We cannot afford to waste the opportunity, not when stores are running low. But I did not want to spend more time there than necessary with Addison, and it would have been difficult to carry a good amount of meat while holding her, in any case.

Bashir nods. "I am ready."

"Go inside, Addison. I will return shortly."

She nods as females begin to trickle out to greet her. She smiles at them and something inside me eases. She will be fine here while we travel back to the guster.

"Let us go," I say.

Bashir returns briefly to his cave to get his small traveling pack and weapons, which all Zmaj have packed and ready to go at a moment’s notice. We leave the safety of the Tribe almost as soon as we arrive.

I lead the way back to the guster with Bashir next to me, a little to the side. He asks me some polite questions.

"How was your journey apart from the attack."

"Fine," I return. A beat of silence where I do not expand upon my answer.

"Everything is as it should be in the city?"

"Yes."

When I do not give a more detailed response to that question either, Bashir does not ask any more. My uneasiness around him elicits the same response from him. He senses that I am avoiding something. But I cannot help myself. So I simply focus on the task at hand, which is the best I can do.

Luckily, without Addison's added weight, the trip back to the guster is even swifter. I can see Bashir is on high alert when we stop next to the beast, just as I am. But there is no sign the other guster have been back here or that they are anywhere in the immediate area anymore.

"I will take the head. You take the tail," Bashir murmurs.

I nod. With that small bit of necessary communication out of the way, we both draw our long hunting knives and get to work on the thick hide. There is not as much meat on this guster as there would be on one that was well fed, but even this amount is valuable. The guster eat epis, their meat infused with the plant. It makes them even more nourishing than other game.

After skinning the animal, we make quick work of cutting out the meat, placing the pieces in our packs to take back to the Tribe. It does not take long at all, not with Bashir and me to do the butchering together. We have much experience, our knives slicing and cutting almost intuitively. I focus fully on the task at hand. I know I am avoiding the issue, avoiding the very reason we traveled here in the first place, but I need some time before I can speak of the matter.

So I wait.

I wait until we pack the meat and travel back to the Tribe, until I find Addison again, who is clearly waiting for our return. When I know it is time, when I know I cannot delay the discussion any longer, I still hesitate. I scoffed when Bashir had spoken of Tajss as an entity in and of itself, when he'd spread around to everyone the fact that children were having dreams.

I scoffed.

I thought he was foolish to put so much stock into emotions and dreams, to perpetuate anything that he did not have proof of. I thought what he was doing was simply dangerous, something that appeared to be laying down the groundwork for worship of a higher power, for religion that could easily be used to harm.

But now... I feel as though my world has been turned upon its head. Not only do I have to accept the matter, I must swallow my pride, rise above what the human females call "ego," and give Bashir a chance to make sense of the seemingly telepathic dream Addison and I shared. I would be lying if I did not admit, at least to myself, that my desire to be near Addison outside work situations partly fuels the decision.

The situation is baffling, but considering Maeve and Padraig and their growing telepathic connection... It is almost as if they have become one unit rather than two, each making up a complimentary portion of their bonded whole. They have yet to take part in a mating ceremony, but that is simply because of the current troubles plaguing us. Their bond grows ever stronger.

I take a deep breath and approach Bashir.

"Bashir...may we please speak with you? In private?"

Bashir turns from where he set down the meat in the kitchen, his expression curious.

"Yes, of course," he agrees immediately, making me feel even more ashamed for my distant manner. "Follow me to my cave."

I agree. We walk after him as he leads the way. Perhaps my feet drag somewhat, but I have accepted the inevitable. When we reach his unit, Bashir gestures for us to take a seat. We do so, and he follows suit, his gaze fixed on my face.

"Now...why have you been attempting to avoid conversing with me?" he asks, not bothering to avoid the tension between us.

I shake my head, clasping my hands.

"I have been...reluctant," I admit. "It is...a difficult subject for me."

"I see," he murmurs. "You may begin as you wish."

I nod, attempting to organize my thoughts rather than simply allowing them to spew forth.

"I... dreamed." Bashir's eyes sharpen, and he leans forward. But he doesn't speak, simply listens intently. "It was an unusual dream. One of Tajss, of the wonder to be found here...but then it shifted. And the wonder gave way to desolation, a sense of... danger. And... Addison was in the dream."

He nods once more, his expression thoughtful.

"And Addison shared the dream," Bashir murmurs. It is not a question.

"How did you know?" Addison demands, frowning.

He smiles slightly. "A dream only Melchior had would not be enough to bring him here to my doorstep, let alone with you by his side," he explains. "Now—I need a more detailed description of what you saw. Were they images? Projected emotions? In what manner did you see Addison?"

The dam now broken, the information spills out of me. I tell him of the images, the animals, the landscape. And of Addison. How I saw her.

She interjects with details from her dream as well, of how she saw me. And how the dream ended with both of us holding hands, our expressions pleading. Something vast looking out at us from behind our own faces...

When the words finally slow, then stop, Bashir continues to sit silently, a slight frown between his brows.

"Hmm." He shakes his head, clasping his hands in front of him. "The babies have had more dreams, but the messages are not yet clear..."

I wait, feeling disappointment rise inside myself.

How can I trust a system that cannot give me a real, unequivocal answer? What is the point of any answer if it is based on this mystical, shaky premise, this unstable ground? I do not see how it could help us. So far, all these dreams and visions have done is distract us—not good when we are under the threat of attack.

Bashir meets my eyes as the thoughts pass through my mind. His eyes are direct, calm, penetrating. I look away, struck by the notion that Bashir can sense my disbelief. But he does not remark upon it when he speaks.

"You both have a role to play." I turn my head to meet his eyes once more. "A role that will reveal itself over time." He shifts his eyes over to Addison. "Like Maeve, Padraig, and the babies, you have been chosen for something. Make no mistake."

Bashir's look is confident, a look I know well.

My dragon brother is very self-assured when it comes to his beliefs—to the point of knowing.

"But chosen for what?" Addison asks. It is the question I have as well, though I have not asked because I know what the answer will be.

"I do not know," Bashir replies readily, open at least in that aspect. "But I am confident the pieces will come together."

Addison and I look at each other. It is not an answer, at least not one we can do anything with.

Wait and see. That is all Bashir says we can do.

Penelope enters then, hands laden with plates of food.

"I think it's time to take a break from serious talk and have some food," she announces, setting them down on the table nearby. "Addison and Melchior have traveled all the way from the city—I'm certain they're both hungry and tired."

"Thanks, Penelope," Addison murmurs, smiling.

"Thank you," I add as well, standing to follow the others over to the table.

Bashir pulls Penelope into a warm hug, kissing her soundly. He whispers something into her ear and her smile widens as a blush warms her cheeks. She pushes him away, shaking her head, but her eyes are shining with happiness. As are his when he comes to sit down with us.

I sit down as well, watching out of the corner of my eye as she returns with the rest of the food, taking a seat next to Bashir at the table. He reaches out to take her hand before he even takes a bite of the food.

I cannot help the fantasy that forms in my mind at the entire interaction. Cannot help but dream of the potential future between Allison and me that looks just like this.

Penelope murmurs something and Bashir chuckles, raising her hand to his lips before offering her a morsel of food.

I feel a pang in my heart. Domestic, settled, and... home. It warms my heart to see it even while I feel myself tense.

I dare not look at Addison, for fear she will see the hope shining in my eyes. Does she feel my interest? Does she feel the same?

Or am I pining for a future such as this alone?