EMMA

It seems impossible, but I’ve caught the flu.

At least, I’m pretty sure it’s the flu. All I know is that when I wake up the next morning, I’m feverish and hot, and my stitches hurt and throb like nothing I’ve ever felt before. When I can’t rouse myself out of bed for breakfast, Carol, one of the older women, checks in on me. A short time later, Old Jerry heads by and puts his hand on my forehead.

“You’re burning up. Might be infection.” He checks my head and then grunts in surprise. “Looks good, though. Could just be bad luck. Stay in bed, I guess. Can’t have you feeding everyone if you’ve got the damn plague.” He sits down in a folding chair next to my bed, digs through his bag, and then hands me some long-expired cold meds. “Take these and see if they help.”

I nod and choke the pills down, then go back to sleep.

I wake up a short time later with a sense of dread hanging over my head. I rub a hand over my face, squinting at the cracked ceiling in my room and wondering what’s bothering me. Did I dream about my brother? Did the cold meds make me sick? 

Where are you?

The thought echoes in my head, clear as day, and my first instinct is to think that I’m hallucinating.

But the voice in my head is thoroughly masculine, deep and full of anger. It can only be one person. Zohr? 

Emma? Where are you? Why do you hide yourself away?

I sit upright in the bed, surprised. A wave of nausea crashes over me and I lie back down again, moaning. I’m in bed. I’m sick.

His thoughts turn affectionate and protective, which is startling to feel. Is it because you took in my fires?

Your fires? Is that what happened when you bit me? I’m still shocked that this worked, and a little pleased. Something actually worked for a change. I’m even more shocked that Zohr’s talking to me, and his voice is so very clear he might as well be standing right next to me. I’m alone in my room, though, and yet I have a strange feeling of being watched. It’s bizarre. I press my hand to my throbbing forehead, trying to absorb everything.

Yes. You took my venom. When you receive my fires, it bonds us. We are connected forever now.

Oh gosh, forever, huh? Great?

Why do you not sound pleased? Did you not want to mate with me? Is that why you rejected my seed? Anger and frustration tinge his thoughts, along with desperation. It feels as if he’s about to go out of control, and quick.

Rejected his…oh boy. I didn’t mean to reject anything. And judging from the emotions that are blasting through my head, he’s really upset over it. I try to recall what happened, and then realize with embarrassment that he misinterpreted why I left. I had to sneak in to see you, I explain. I heard someone coming and I had to leave. It just happened to be at, um, a really bad moment.

I did not feel your cunt clench with pleasure. Did you come?

Son of a bitch, that question zooms through my head like an arrow. An embarrassing, very pointed arrow. Uh. It was fine.

I can practically feel him growling. It does not sound fine. Come back here so I can pleasure you. Come free me.

I would love nothing more than to free you, Zohr. I can’t, though.

Why? Are the other males I scent holding you hostage? Anger erupts through my mind, startling in its immediacy and ferocity. Do I need to come for you?

No! Wait! Don’t freak out. Just let me explain!

Then explain, comes the arrogant demand.

My back goes up at the imperious tone. Well, first of all, you need to calm the fuck down, because you’re making my head hurt with all your shouting. I don’t know if you noticed, but I have stitches.

I scented blood on your head. It pains you? His thoughts are reluctantly calmer and overall less violent, as if he’s trying to soothe me but it’s the last thing he wants to do. 

I’ll take it. Yeah, my head hurts. It hurts a lot, actually. I hope it’s not infected. My entire head aches and I feel like I have a fever.

My mate, he sends, and his thoughts are possessive and pleasurable all at once. It’s almost like being enfolded in a mental hug. Come here so I can lick your wounds for you and help them heal.

I can’t come to you right now. Let me explain.

I see through your eyes you are in a nest alone. This is good. I do not wish other males to touch my mate.

Yeah, well, I don’t want that, either. I can’t decide if I’m amused at his smug attitude or annoyed.

Feels like both, Zohr sends.

Thanks for that, I retort back.

You are most welcome. His thoughts purr through my mind. Now come and free me.

And even though I’m aching all over and sick, his thoughts are so persuasive that I really do want to get out of bed and trot down to his side. I can’t, Zohr. There’s a lot going on. You’re being held captive by someone who wants a dragon. He used me to bring you down. That’s how come you got captured. Just thinking about it makes me ache with guilt and misery. I’m so sorry. If you hadn’t seen me—

I smelled you. The moment I scented you on the wind, I knew you were mine. It did not matter if I had seen you or not. You were mine in that moment.

I’m not sure how I feel about that. Does that mean any chick he scented would do? Or was there something about me? Also, I’m a little worried about how possessive he is. Maybe I’ve bitten off more than I can chew. All right, I tell him, because I don’t know what else to say.

I would have come for you no matter what, Zohr tells me. The moment your scent hit me, my mind cleared. It is as if the clouds have gone away. There is awe and wonderment in his mental “tone.” My thoughts are my own once more.

Not entirely your own, I can’t help but snark. I’m sitting in them.

I welcome your thoughts, he tells me, warmth flooding through my head. Everything I have now is yours, and I belong to you just as you belong to me.

Yup, definitely bitten off more than I can chew.

You keep thinking of biting? Do not be afraid of me. His thoughts take a sultry bent. The bite only happens once. From now on, I will simply need to give you my seed to brand your scent as my mate.

Mate. I test the word out on my tongue. Did Sasha mention anything about that? I knew they were together, but I didn’t realize how together. Still, if this is what it takes to free Zohr, I’ll do it. Being a dragon’s mate can’t be any worse than being waitress to Azar and his buddies. 

Azar?

Yes, I think in his direction. The pale guy running things here.

He is the Salorian I smell on the wind?

I…guess? What is a Salorian?

My mind suddenly floods with mental images. Of pale, elegant men with long fluttering hair, perched atop delicate chairs. Men seated above others, their cold, colorless eyes gazing down. There is cruelty in their faces, and their garments are long and flowing. It’s like an alternate-world version of Azar, and I’m momentarily fascinated. The feelings creeping in are less exciting, though. There’s cruelty and cunning and hate, all wrapped up in the idea of Salorians. They’re bad guys? I ask.

Very bad. They… Zohr’s thoughts grow confused. They…I do not remember. Just that they are bad.

It’s okay, Zohr. I try to send him comforting thoughts, even though my head is pounding. It feels like I’ve got another brain suddenly stuffed inside my skull, and between trying to figure out his thoughts and mine, I’m getting the world’s worst migraine. Sasha told me that sort of thing happens. That your memory’s piece-y because of this place.

I hate this place. There’s vehemence in his thoughts, and his dislike seeps into my head.

Maybe…maybe you can go back, then.

No. You are here.

I suppress the groan that threatens to escape me. But if you left, you’d be safe.

And you would be vulnerable. Wherever you go, I will go.

This is going to take some getting used to. I want to talk more, but my head hurts, Zohr. Actually, all of me hurts.

It is my venom, he tells me again. There’s no apology in his tone, just pride and pleasure as if he’s happy about the situation. You will only hurt for a short time. If I could take it away from you, I would.

I think about his situation. The chains. The vest full of spikes. The uncomfortable-looking collar. And you? Are you okay? Here I am lying in a bed at least. I’m not chained down and being held captive. Well, at least, I don’t think I’m a captive. I can’t leave, though. Azar and his goons wouldn’t let me walk away. In a sense, I’m trapped, just as Zohr is.

I hate it, and I hate this place, but I will not abandon you. Can you not come to me?

I can’t. They’ll kill me if they find out we’re talking. I bite my lip, thinking about the dragon-man. I wish I could come and check on you, but if I leave my room after Old Jerry told everyone I’m sick, they’re going to ask questions and I don’t have answers for them.

Stay where you are until you are safe. Do you want me to come for you? I get a flash of mental images, of Zohr breaking free.

No! Don’t hurt yourself. We’ll figure this out. We just need to be patient.

Patience. He mulls the thought. Restraint is something I have not been familiar with for a long time. There’s a hint of irony in his mind. I have been instinct and instinct alone for far too long. Now that I am awakened, everything feels different.

Well, don’t act different, I caution him. No one can know we’re linked.

Everyone will know soon enough, he tells me, and that arrogant flavor is back in his thoughts. The Salorian will smell me on you.

I gasp aloud even though I know Zohr can’t hear it. What the fuck? What do you mean?

You have taken my fires. Your scent will change to mingle with mine. 

Well that’s not good! I hope the perfume covers it. I make a mental note to spritz it even more heavily than usual.

You hide your scent? He sounds fascinated. Come here and let me sniff you to determine if this is true.

Nice try. I’m not getting out of bed.

His tone is contrite. Because you hurt. I do not like that you are aching. Close your eyes. Sleep. I can wait a bit longer to look upon my mate once more.

I do as he says and shut my eyes. Immediately some of the tension eases, and I can relax a bit.

The venom will flow out of your system in another day or so, he promises. You will feel better soon.

I kinda like his soothing tone and catch myself smiling. You say that to all the ladies?

I have never claimed a female before. I have never wanted to until now.

Well, don’t get too attached. I’m not much of a prize.

You are everything.

I can’t help but be flattered at his tone. Is this how it is between Sasha and Dakh? No wonder she was so besotted with him. Big dick and utter devotion? 

If the situation wasn’t so shitty and forced, I’d probably be besotted, too. As it is, I’m just worried. Worried we’re going to be found out. Worried Zohr’s going to hurt himself. Worried a million other things are going to go wrong. 

I think about Boyd.

And Azar.

And I think about Zohr.

Everything’s such a mess. I’m “mated” to a stranger. My scent’s going to change and Azar’s going to find out. I’m still surrounded—heck, working with—the enemy. I’ve got no clue how to get Zohr free. I’ll think of something, though. I have to.

Giving up has never been an option in my book.