ZOHR

Emma is quiet the next morning, her thoughts distant. She seems troubled, but when I nuzzle her, I can sense that it makes her unhappy. Frustrated, I give her space, but I watch her closely. Something is troubling my mate and I must learn what it is so I can fix it.

My stomach growls with hunger, but I ignore it. Instead, I remain in two-legged form and squat next to my mate as she mends a hole in one of her shoes. Are you hungry? Shall we go hunting?

She thinks for a moment and then shakes her head. “I’m fine. You go.”

I will stay here with you, I tell her. I do not want to leave you alone.

Emma purses her lips at that and sighs. “Zohr, I can feel your hunger. I have a few bars still in my bag. I can eat one of those. You need more than I do. Go hunt.”

And if the others should return? Just the thought fills me with anger. I will not leave you alone and unguarded.

“I know.” She smiles at me, and she is so beautiful that it fills me with lust. I want to touch her and bear her to the floor right here and claim her. “If you’re worried, then don’t go far,” she tells me. “And I’ll just douse myself with another round of perfume.”

My nose itches at the thought, but she is not wrong; the stench is enough to distract any drakoni nose. The thought of abandoning her goes against every instinct I have, though. I will not leave you.

She bites the thread to cut it and glances over at me, a faint smile playing at her lips. “Fine. I’ll go with you. But if I fall off your back, you’re hunting solo.”

I reach out and touch her cheek. I will not let you fall, I promise. I would die before I let anything happen to my Emma.

* * *

Hunting with her on my back soon proves more difficult than we anticipated. I cannot run after my prey or turn sharply because it will bounce her off of her perch, and after two near crashes and my meal running away, we compromise. She gets into the back seat of a nearby car and closes the doors, and I chase down one of the cows that wander nearby. Our thoughts remain connected and Emma scans the skies for dragons, ever alert. I do the same. There is one I can smell on the air, but it is a good distance away yet and is not to be feared.

My prey moos and retreats into the shambles of a nearby building, and I follow it inside. What is this place? I ask my Emma as I corner my meal and shear its head off with my teeth, then gulp the rest of it whole. I send her mental images.

Supermarket, looks like. All those empty shelves used to hold food. Her thoughts grow wistful. Are all of them empty?

All, I agree, though I am fascinated by her thoughts. She dreams of cookies and sweet things, and is sad that there are none. I will find you some.

Good luck, she sends back, amused. Then, I can’t believe you just ate that thing down to the hooves!

I finish chewing and lick my chops. It was delicious.

She chuckles.

There are more of the fat, lazy cows in a field nearby and I hunt down another to sate my hunger, all the while keeping watch on the dragon that still seems to hover at the edge of my senses. The scent is far away and it does not attempt to touch my mind in greeting—or in wild anger. It is not leaving, either, which is unusual.

There’s a dragon in the distance, she tells me. Just saw it flit past a cloud. Should I be worried?

It is not approaching, I reassure her, but head back to her side. The need to protect her is too strong to leave her alone. I send out a warning, but there is no response. My unease grows, and by the time I return to Emma, I am more than ready to leave this place and retreat back to our hiding spot. Let us go.

Your eyes have black in them, she tells me, studying my features. Everything okay? She reaches out to caress my scales.

I do not know what to make of the drakoni that flies near, I admit as I lower my shoulder so she can climb atop my back.

Not that near, she tells me. I can barely see him. Or her.

Near enough to touch thoughts, but there is nothing there, I tell her.

Good! I don’t want you touching thoughts with anyone but me. Her mind is full of worry. What if it’s another one of Azar’s dragons?

That is my concern. Still, this one does not act as the other did. The female from yesterday constantly sought to lock minds with me. This one acts as if she wishes to ignore me entirely. I ponder this even as Emma settles atop my back.

“It’s rising,” my mate murmurs and points up at the sky. “Look. Do you think…?”

She does not need to say it aloud. I know her thoughts as well as my own. I lift my head and we both watch as the dragon—nothing but a reddish shadow in the sky—circles higher and higher. Off in the distance, between the clouds is the Rift. It lingers like a wound in the otherwise blue sky, greenish and black and pulsing.

And the drakoni seems to be heading for it.

“One of Azar’s?” Emma whispers.

I cannot be certain. But even so, it must be. The female continues to rise higher in the skies, her wings working madly. Instinct keeps any wild-minded drakoni from flying too high. There is no wind to ride when too high up, no prey, no need to climb to a dangerous height. If the female were lost to the madness, she would not fly so high. She must be controlled by the Salorian, then.

Unease gnaws at my mind. It is only the calm touch of my Emma’s hand upon my scales that keeps me from descending into madness. She will kill herself. Already she strains to do his bidding. There is no way she will reach the Rift and survive to pass through. Memories of my own journey brush at the edges of my mind, full of insanity and pain. I edge away from them, not wanting to relive such a thing.

“Can we warn her somehow? Stop her? Without connecting your mind to hers and risking yourself?”

No. I cannot fly after her, either.

“Then all we can do is watch.” Emma’s revulsion crawls through her mind. “He’s evil to try this. She’s not strong enough to make it. Look.”

We both watch as the female shudders and slips, only to spread her wings and dip, then pumps them furiously in an attempt to regain height. Again she tries, and again, her wings give out. I feel despair—my own, that I must watch a fellow drakoni destroy themselves for another’s cruel bidding.

The female falters once more, and then the small, reddish shadow begins to coast steadily downward. Emma releases a pent-up breath. “She’s stopping.”

She has no more strength to go on, I suspect.

“Do you think he’ll make her try again?”

Yes. I know so. The thought sours my mind, bringing the madness to play back at the edges of my consciousness. Why does this seem so familiar? Why does the realization make me so sick?

“Maybe it’s something in your past,” Emma murmurs, and strokes my scales.

Her touch calms me, helps me focus. Perhaps she is right. If it is in the past, let it stay there. She is my future, and I must protect her. Come, let us return to our nest.

My mate does not protest. The female dragon and her botched flight remain in her thoughts for a long time, as they do in mine. I am not sure if I wish that I could remember…or if I am glad I have forgotten.

* * *

This morning’s events cast a shadow over the rest of the day. Emma is quiet and distracted, and when the heat of the day gets too hot, she pulls off her clothing, finds a corner and lies down on the hard cement to cool herself off.

I do not mind the heat. It feels good against my scales. I shift to battle-form as she naps and do my best to explore our surroundings by scent. I am looking for something in particular. Something sweet and crumbly that will make my Emma smile. She says this place is a warehouse or a club and that they used to sell foods and vast amounts of goods. The shelves are mostly cleaned out, but there are a few clustered boxes high above the ground, on the tallest of shelves that could hold something. I go down each aisle, using my nose, and when I scent something that has potential, I climb the shelves and use my claws to shred plastic and cardboard until I find the contents within. The sweet scent that wafts to my nose matches Emma’s memories of sugar, and I pry one of the crates free and carefully carry it back down to the floor.

Then I wait for my mate to awaken.

Her thoughts are troubled, even in her sleep, and I worry over her. She dreams of Jack, and of her sibling, and of being left alone. I try to comfort her with my thoughts, but she is so deep inside her own dreams that she does not hear them.

I am relieved when she starts awake and blinks up at the ceiling. I nose her gently. I am here, my mate.

She rubs her eyes and sits up. Her heart is pounding, and there’s a tinge of fear-scent underneath the cloying perfume. Her thoughts are disoriented. “Zohr?”

I rub my snout along her hair to remind her of my presence. You were having bad dreams.

“Oh.” Her expression grows distant and her thoughts flick back to Jack once more. “Yeah, I guess I was.”

While you slept, I have found something for you.

“You did? What?”

It is a surprise. A gift.

“A gift?” I can feel her startled pleasure. “You got me a gift?”

Yes. Come. I will show you. I nudge her, encouraging her to stand. She does, and then I lead her over to the box I have placed—oh so carefully—in the center of the floor.

Her eyes widen and she looks at me in surprise. “Did you bring down the entire pallet?” She runs a hand over the cardboard surface of the box, and her thoughts are humming with pleasure and anticipation. “How did you manage that?”

Very carefully.

She chuckles and then finds the edge of the box and pulls the lid open, peering inside. I hope it is a good present. I know there are many smaller boxes inside, all of them smelling sweet. There is human writing on the surface, like in the books, but I cannot read it.

Her thoughts are startled at the sight of them. “Candy canes?” Emma’s voice is awed as she picks up a small, slim box and then hugs it to her chest. I can feel her enthusiasm rippling through her mind. “Oh my god. Books of Life Savers! Chocolate coins!” She digs further in the box. “And fruitcake! This must all be Christmas merchandise.” She laughs with delight and picks up a small, red little bag that reeks of old sugar. “I think all the chocolate coins melted together. But everything else is awesome. I’m not even sure I like fruitcake, but who cares?” She turns to me, her dark eyes shining. “How did you know this was there?”

I could smell it, and I know you like sweet things. I wanted to bring you something that would make you smile. Her pleasure is mine, after all.

The sweet, happy smile on her face fades. She blinks rapidly and for a moment, it looks as if my brave Emma is about to have water pour from her eyes again. “Oh, Zohr. We need to talk, you and I.” She puts down the box of candy canes, reluctance and sadness radiating from her mind.

I immediately shift to my two-legged form and move forward so I can hold her close in one of the hugs she likes so much—and is always so pleasantly surprised by. She never expects to be touched, and I have made it my goal to ensure that she is touched often. What do you wish to speak of?

She slides out of my grip and clasps her hands in front of her, thinking. “How…gosh, this is hard. Please understand that it’s not you, Zohr. You’re awesome. I don’t want you to think anything is wrong with you.” She pauses, and her thoughts finish what she cannot say aloud.

She is breaking up with me.

I do not understand, I tell her. What is this breaking we will be doing?

Her eyes widen. “Shit. I always forget you can hear everything.” Emma sighs and looks miserable. “We need to break our mental bond.”

Emotion flares through me. Denial. Anger. Frustration. Shock. I can feel the madness edging at my thoughts, can feel it burrowing deep, pulling the mental anchors loose. You are mine.

She winces, and I realize I am projecting fiercely into her thoughts. “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “But I really do think it’s best.”

If she thinks it is best, why is she so sad? Why does she act as if this is the thing she wants the least in the world? I cup her lovely face in my hands and study her. Definitely making water from her eyes. No.

“What do you mean, no?”

I mean no. You belong to me, Emma. You are my fires, my mate, my female. You are connected to my spirit. Our minds are as one. I study her face, stroke her cheek gently with the pads of my thumb. Once, she would have flinched away from the nearness of my claws, but not now. Now she grips my wrists and gives me such sad, sad looks. It feels as if my sanity is tearing already. I do not understand why you want this.

Emma gives a small, watery laugh. “I don’t want it. But it’s what’s best.” One finger moves back and forth against my hand, as if she cannot resist touching me. “It’s what will keep you safe.”

She does this…for me? What do you mean?

“I mean if we’re not linked, then they can’t use me to come after you.” Her eyes are troubled, sad. “I’m the weak link here. If you depend on me, you’re screwed.” Her fingers rub my skin, over and over again. “When you’re with a partner, you’re vulnerable—”

No, I tell her firmly, pushing my thoughts ferociously into her mind. That is not what this is. You do not make me vulnerable.

“Yes, I do,” she insists, her eyes pleading. “You have to break our connection, Zohr. You said so yourself. Azar’s coming after me because he knows he can use me against you. He knows that if he captures me, you’ll do whatever he wants, even if it means risking your life. And you saw that dragon earlier…” Her voice chokes on the words. I don’t want that to happen to you. I can’t let you try to claw your way back to the Rift. Not if it’ll kill you.

I take her hands in mine and squeeze them tightly. Losing you will kill me.

More water pours from her eyes. “No, Zohr—”

It is truth, I tell her, and let her feel it from my thoughts. There is no dishonesty, no manipulation, nothing but truth in my mind. You are the only thing that saves me from madness. Without Emma, there is no Zohr. Zohr is lost. It does not matter that Azar thinks to come after you. I will protect you. It does not matter that you make me vulnerable. My eyes make me vulnerable. My wings. My heart. My need to breathe. I would give them up before I gave up my mate. My fierce, brave Emma. I gaze down at her, hoping she will realize just how badly I need her. Without you, I break.

Her lower lip trembles. I can feel her indecision.

Even though it guts me, I must ask her. Do you hate being with me? Do you want to go? Every instinct in my body screams that I will never let her go. That she is mine and I will hold her to me with fang and claw, snarling, but I know my Emma. She is independent. She chafes in a cage.

She blinks repeatedly, and I can tell by her thoughts that she is surprised by her own confusion. I…I don’t know. I know it’s what’s best—

Is it? Is it what is best, or is it what you expect because everyone has abandoned you in the past? I press my brow to hers, as if I can give her all the love and affection that will convince her. Know this, Emma. You are mine. Even if I could let you go, I would not. You are tied to me, and I to you. There is no separating us. We are two halves of a whole.

My words please her and frighten her both. Zohr…I care for you. I’m just so scared… Her hands move to my hair, tangle in it as if she needs something to desperately hold on to. As if she needs anchoring. Strange that my strong-willed Emma might need me as an anchor as much as I need her. What if Azar tries to use me against you?

Another thought lies underneath, one that she dares not speak. What if I lose you, too, and it breaks me?

My Emma. My brave fires. You have been mine since you fearlessly mounted me. There is no turning back now.

Embarrassed, choked laughter bubbles out of her. “You just have to keep bringing that up.”

Of course I do. It is the day my world began.

She sighs and leans into me, and I sense that she is accepting my words. That the leaving she has worried over and has tried to hide from me will not be necessary, after all. I am stunned to realize she has been planning this, and I cannot stop the growl that rises in my throat. When was this? When did she shield her thoughts from me?

It strikes terror into my mind and I hold her fiercely. You are mine. We will be together, forever.

“What if we don’t get forever?” Emma whispers. “What if Azar takes that from us?”

Then I will destroy him. I will tear him open with my teeth and watch him bleed to death. Then I will char his body until there is nothing left but ashes, and I will take great joy in watching them scatter in the breeze.

She gives another deep sigh, as if such a thought makes her happy. She clings to me, but it is clear in her thoughts that she is not yet willing to give up her idea of leaving.

Tell me what you need, I demand from her. Anything she asks, I will give it.

Unless it is her freedom. That, she will never have.

“Weapons,” she says immediately. “Guns. Ammo. A fortress.” Her hands tighten in my hair and excitement flares in her eyes. “If we know he’s going to come after us, it’ll be better if we’re ready. We can find someplace that’s easy to defend and make traps. We can make Molotovs if we can find gasoline. Maybe we can find an old army supply store and see if they have grenades. I can see if I can find information on how to make homemade pipe bombs. We can set booby traps, and if he sends his goons after us, we’ll be ready. If he sends dragons after us, we’ll be ready. We can fight, but we need the equipment.” Her eyes are alight with excitement. “And if we can set ourselves up in a fortress, it’ll give us a safe place to take time to heal and work on your wings.”

I am relieved. She wishes for weapons to guard me? My strong, smart warrior mate. I am pleased. Whatever you wish for, I will get for you. Wherever you choose, we will make our nest there.

“I might skip comfort in favor of defensibility,” she admits. “I hope that’s all right with you.”

Anywhere you go, I will be there. I do not care if we sleep on a bed of hot coals.

“Let’s not get carried away,” she tells me with a chuckle. Her expression softens and she bites her lip, gazing at me. “And you? What is it you want? Should we go away? Head off somewhere distant and hope Azar doesn’t follow us?”

I brush my nose against hers. Retreat? No. We cannot be sure that he would not follow us. I like your plan. As for what I require… I brush my fingers against her soft cheek and send her a volley of erotic thoughts. I want my mate under me. I want to claim her and fill her with my seed.

She sucks in a breath, and I feel a rush of answering desire in her thoughts. All you want is me?

All I have ever wanted is you, my Emma. I lean in and claim her mouth in a fierce kiss. And I am tired of waiting.

She moans and leans into me.