AMY

As if he’s taking pity on my bruised, tired, feverish body, Rast doesn’t initiate sex again for the next two days. In a way, I’m a little glad because I do feel awful. I’m exhausted and too hot and achy to get up from bed, and my neck throbs. My head does, too, as I try to get used to the mental connection. I don’t recall Claudia telling me how incredibly overwhelming it is to have a dragon in your head, but Rast has a lot of his memories from his homeworld, so maybe he’s got a stronger mental connection to me than hers is to Kael. It feels a little mean-spirited to think of it that way, but I can’t help it.

Rast is amazing. He’s everything I dreamed of, wrapped up in an unexpected package. Did I want a man that’s as attentive to me as Kael is to Claudia? Yes. But I never dreamed that Rast would want to spend hours on the roof with me draped over his chest, naked atop him, as he cradled me out in the rain so I could enjoy the cool weather instead of sweltering in my breezeless room. I never dreamed he’d hold me against his chest and just stroke my skin for hours on end, feeding me bits of chocolate when I felt too sick. It’s beyond words how cherished I feel, and to someone like me, who has always felt lacking because of my leg, I gobble up his attention like it’s candy, and I always want more.

It’s not perfect, of course. Rast is struggling to understand our world and his emotions. He mentioned that he was a general in his homeworld, and I think that accounts for some of his…arrogance. It’s clear that he’s used to being obeyed, because any time I contradict him, he looks utterly incredulous. He also struggles with jealousy and flares of temper. He’s even jealous of the crows and pigeons that wander in the open hole in our room, because if I smile at them, I’m not smiling at him. Some of it is the residue from his wildness, I think, because I immediately feel the shame that rolls through his thoughts when his temper flares.

It’s just adjusting to each other and him adjusting to this world, I think. In the past, he didn’t have to worry about adjusting to my world because he was beyond crazed. Now that he’s sane, it’s like he has to learn everything anew, and I can tell he gets frustrated—most of all with himself and his mind that won’t behave like he wants it to.

He’s endlessly patient and loving with me, though.

Except…other than those first two matings, he hasn’t touched me again. I wonder if there’s a problem with me that he’s taking care to hide in his thoughts. Or does he think that after two matings, no more are necessary? I have no idea. All I know is that he’s woken up a craving in my mind, and now all I think about is sex. I think about it when he caresses my back or strokes my hair. I dream about it when I sleep. I think about it every time he smiles at me, or I catch a whiff of his scent, or his skin strokes over mine.

Basically I’m turning into a nympho and he won’t touch me, and I don’t know what to do.

I tell myself it’s another one of those adjustment things. That just because he isn’t having sex with me now—after the first few mindblowing rounds—it doesn’t mean there’s a problem. But my self-esteem is pathetic and of course I worry. I worry because I’m not as pretty as Claudia, or as fit, or as strong-willed. I’m not bringing much to the mate table.

And when he wakes up, his cock is hard and erect. It’s hard not to notice, because he’s naked and there’s nowhere else to look but at his staggering male beauty. In that aspect, he’s definitely like the prince of my dreams. When he looks at me? His eyes are filled with such hunger and need that it takes my breath away.

So I do feel as if there’s something I’m missing. But how does a recently de-virginized girl tell a guy she wants to have sex again? I haven’t figured that part out yet. I’m still horribly awkward around him. If he picks it up from my thoughts, he hasn’t indicated it yet.

Which then makes me worry the sex wasn’t very good, or my weak body repulsed him.

God, I am such a mess. I thought getting my Prince Charming would solve all my problems. I have him, but he’s more like Prince Fury, and he’s brought a whole new kit of issues along with him.

At least my fever distracts me, for the most part.

But on day three, I feel much better. I’m not sweating constantly, and the breeze this day actually feels cool and refreshing on my skin instead of painful. I wake up hungry and pick through the remnants of my junk food in frustration. I’m craving something filling and although a chocolate bar is amazing, it does not make a meal. I haven’t minded too much in the last few days since my appetite has been nonexistent, but it’s ravenous today.

Wait here, Rast says, intruding into my thoughts with that mental blast of his. I will take care of you. He moves to my side, caresses my cheek, and then heads for the open, gaping hole in the window. As I watch, he shifts to dragon form like he’s exploding into the skies, and then he takes off with a mighty flap of his wings.

Come back soon, I can’t help but call after him. This is the first time he’s left me in days and it feels…strange.

I would not leave your side for long, my mate. Be patient. He sends something that feels like a mental caress and I start to think all my worries are silly. It’s just more of us getting used to each other, I reason. Maybe when he gets back, he’ll want to have sex.

Of course, the thought makes me blush and I limp over to the shower to clean all my sweat off my skin so I smell as fresh as possible…just in case.

* * *

By the time I hop out of the shower, I can hear the distant beat of wings overhead.

I return, Rast tells me.

I barely have time to pull the spare robe over my body before the dragon alights, wings gently fluttering, and lands on the floor a few feet away via the gaping hole in the side of the building. He carries a dead cow in his mouth and drops it on the floor in front of me.

These are tasty, he tells me. Eat your fill.

I stare blankly at the big, dead animal. Its neck is snapped and it's not covered in blood, which is nice, I suppose. But it's so huge and…dead. I've dressed squirrels and seen Claudia help Kael with his kills, but I've never had to do any cooking myself. I'm at a loss, and I clutch the neck of my robe shut, worried. “I'll…uh, get a knife.”

Why? I can cut it for you. Just show me where to bite open the skin and I will make a wound for you to eat from. He nudges it toward me with his nose. When I don't step forward, a hint of impatience flares in his thoughts. The blood will clot if you do not make haste.

I swallow hard. “Right.” He's trying to feed me. I can do this. It's not like I'm a vegetarian. I'll eat whatever I can find, just like everyone else. But right now I'm longing for just one more can of those stupid yams, because I feel wholly unprepared to dress an entire cow on my own, in the middle of my hotel suite living area. I head for my bag and pull out a knife, then move to the cow's side. I need to figure out the best place to cut. Do I slit the throat so the blood can pour out? I've seen Claudia and Sasha do that before back when we were in Fort Dallas, but there's no place for the blood to go at the moment except in the carpet. I hesitate, then kneel next to it. “You can cook this thing for me, right?” My voice sounds braver than I feel.

If you like. Step back.

I give him a horrified look. “No, wait. I need to get the skin off. I can't eat it like this.”

I will wait.

There is patience in his tone, but I feel like I'm being rushed. No, I feel like I'm being judged. I don't like it. I move to the cow's side and try to figure out which part a steak would be cut from. You would think I'd know something like this, but I've never had so much meat flung my way before. Never in Fort Dallas, and after I moved in with Claudia in her tower, I had to keep to my room. I swallow hard and decide on a hip. A hip seems nice and benign. I move toward it and lay the sharp part of the blade against the hide, then gently try to dig it in.

It doesn't go very far. I have to hack at it to get the knife to penetrate the hide, and by the time I do, black blood starts to gush everywhere, and I swallow hard, my stomach turning.

You wish a flank? Here, move. Let me gnaw you a piece. The dragon's head gently nudges me aside and as I watch, he clamps his sharp teeth against the thing's thigh and bites down. There's a crunch of bone and then he drops it onto the ground, a big hunk of bloody meat. Finish skinning it and then I will cook for you.

I nod, swallowing hard. I hike up the sleeves of my fluffy white bathrobe and put one hand on the meat while I saw at the hide on the side. “You can eat the rest,” I tell him. “This is more than enough for me, and you must be hungry.”

There's a flare of pleasure in his thoughts and then he leans in and snags the rest of the cow, downing it in a snap of bones and a big swallow.

Wish it were that easy for me to take care of my food, I muse grudgingly as I saw at the bit of hide left on my portion. The meat's tough and slippery, and I swear, by the time I'm done, I'm not even going to be hungry. I'll need a shower again, too, I think sourly.

You are not very good at taking care of yourself, Rast observes, his tone curious.

I look up at him, hurt. “I'm so sorry if my performance disappoints you.”

It is most odd.

“You're right,” I say sarcastically. “Here, let me hike myself out of the building and I'll go run down a nice fat deer or two for dinner.” I slap my bad leg and then glare at him. “Right after that, I'll go and toast myself up a couple of birds for dessert. Sounds great, doesn't it? Maybe after I'm done with that I'll go and run a fucking marathon.”

He is quiet, even in my head. For a long moment, it's utterly silent between us. I hate that I lost my temper and cussed at him. It's just…I'm really sensitive about my leg. I know it's ugly and it makes me slow and useless. I wish I could change that, but I can't.

I swat at the meat with the knife one last time and then drop my knife, glaring at him. “Done.”

He grabs the meat between two broken claws, breathes a gentle flame on it until the outside is crisp and my mouth is watering at the scent. He cooks it for a bit longer, and then offers it to me, like a giant pot roast, dragon-style.

“Thank you,” I say politely, but I'm still brimming with hurt. This is the first time he's made me feel like “less” and I don't like it. I grab at the roast, but it's searing hot and I drop it to the floor, making an angry exclamation.

Immediately, Rast switches to human form and approaches me. He scoops up my roast and dusts it off with his fingers, then sets it on the nearest flat surface and approaches me. You are upset.

Duh, is the thought that immediately comes to mind, but I squelch it. “It's nothing.”

It is not nothing, he insists, and then adds, duh.

I can't help the smile that curves my mouth at hearing that. “It's fine—”

It is not. His thoughts blast through my head and I wince. He reduces his mental tone and moves to my side, caressing my cheek. I did not mean to hurt your feelings. It is something I realized as I watched you. I should not have asked.

I sigh, because now I feel like a jerk. “No, you pointed out something I'm struggling with myself. Even though I can't run, I should be able to dress a kill. The fact that I don't is rather embarrassing. My sister's just always taken care of so many things for me that I've never really had to push myself.” It's startling to realize how passive I've been. How much has Claudia simply “handled” and I let her? I never did half as much as she did, work-wise, back when we were in Fort Dallas. She would insist that she could take care of it all, but I could have done more. After all, skinning a hunk of meat can be done sitting down as well as standing up. Maybe it's a good thing we've been separated, even if I miss her.

“You're right,” I tell him. “I've never been good at doing a lot of things. I've never had to. I guess I didn't like it being thrown in my face, but it's a good eye-opener. It makes me realize how sheltered I've been despite all these things. If I didn't have you to look after me and I was out here alone? I'd be dead. Not just because of my leg, but because I don't know how to take care of myself. I've never had to. Someone else has always been there to handle whatever needed to be done and I've let them.” It's a rather humbling thing to realize. I look up at him. “But I'm going to learn,” I tell him firmly.

He caresses my cheek and presses a kiss to my mouth. Learn after you eat. You need your strength.

I move to the small kitchenette and pull out a plate and utensils, and carve my meat into bite-sized pieces and chew methodically. It's a little raw on the inside, but it's so good I can't help but devour as much of it as I possibly can.

Rast watches me eat, his expression focused and intent.

“There are a lot of things I've never really tried to do on my own that I'd like to give a shot,” I tell him between bites. Now that I'm warming up to the concept, it feels a bit like an adventure, and I've had painfully few of those in my life. “I can learn to fish. Maybe set traps. Ride a bicycle. Shoot a gun.” I think for a moment, then add, “I don't want you to think I'm completely inept. I can light a fire, but I need a lighter or matches. I can sew clothes, and I can grow vegetables in old coffee cans. I used to do that back when we lived on the bus in Fort Dallas. I'd grow a seedling and then sell it to someone in exchange for food.” I give him a faint smile. “A lot of that isn't all that useful out here, though. Oh, swimming. I'd love to learn how to swim.”

We can do all those things, he tells me, leaning in and brushing his fingers over the corner of my mouth. Whatever you want, we shall do. He rubs his thumb against my lip. You have blood on your mouth.

I give him a sheepish look and swipe my hand over it before he can lean in and do something naughty, like lick me. Then I kind of regret that, because I like his licking. Of course, then I think about him licking and I can feel my face getting red all the way to my roots. “You'll have to be patient with me,” I tell him. “I was very young when the Rift happened and that's how my leg broke. We lived in Fort Dallas until a few months ago. I know how to deal with the militia, but not with a full-blown cow corpse. It's going to be a lot for me to learn, but I'm willing.”

You are not the only one who has much to learn about survival in this world. A rueful smile curves his hard mouth. I feel as if I have just returned to my mind after so long. It will be a challenge to look at this place as a home instead of where I am simply trapped, but at least I have my mind back.

I nod. “It wasn't always like this. Once upon a time it was…busy. Peaceful. There were so many people. Billions.” I glance out at the gaping hole, to the distant ruins of Fort Dallas, just barely visible against the skyline. “It was so very different. You can't imagine how.” I feel a hint of sadness, thinking of my parents and the life I had before. Of going to school and a full belly and new clothes and never having to worry about dragonfire.

Before your world was destroyed in the Rift.

I bite my lip. “It wasn't the Rift that destroyed our world. It was what came through.”

He grunts at my subtle correction.

As I eat, he moves to my side and pulls me out of my chair. Startled, I get up—only to be dragged back down into his lap. His arms immediately go around me and he rubs his face in my hair. “Is everything okay?” I ask timidly.

I wish to hold you. Nothing more. It has been too long since I felt your form against mine.

I feel myself blushing. By “too long” he must mean a few hours, since we slept together last night, but only in the purest sense of the word.

Tell me about your world, before it was changed. What was it like?

Oh, gosh. “Well, I was twelve before everything changed. We lived in a house in the suburbs and it was me and my parents and my older sister.” I let the memory of it fill my mind, the small, cozy house and our little backyard. “I always wanted a cat and my parents told me if I did well in school, I'd get one in the summer, but then the Rift happened.”

Cat? You were hungry for such a small animal?

“Hungry? Oh my god, no. People kept them as pets.” I giggle at his misunderstanding. “You don't eat cats. Or dogs. No one does.”

A pet, he echoes, clearly not understanding.

“Yes. You let them live in your house and you feed them and take care of them and in return, you get to pet them and love them. It's like a tamed wild creature.”

Ah. So you tame it and then you eat it. It is like a snack waiting to happen.

“Now you're just teasing me,” I tell him, and I can feel the amusement bubble in his mind. He IS teasing. How charming. “No snacks like that.”

So the Rift destroyed all cats?

I shake my head. I've forgotten all about eating because he's got his arms locked around my waist, my weight balanced on his thighs, and he's lightly rubbing his mouth and jaw against my shoulder, as if he wants to touch me even more. It's…distracting in the best kind of way. “No, but food was really scarce once the dragons came through and stopped supply chains. Grocery stores emptied out and never restocked. Fields were destroyed so there was no more fresh produce and no one could really venture out safely. It was a really awful time. I think I ate oatmeal for an entire summer and was just happy for that.” I remember those long, awful, hungry days. Days where Claudia and I hid in an abandoned stranger's house after our parents were gone, terrified to venture out. We ate every single thing in their pantry. I remember eating the oatmeal while Claudia ate “pancakes” made of flour and water and nothing else. She swore they were fine. I knew she was lying, but I still ate the oatmeal anyhow because my leg hurt and I felt sorry for myself.

God, I've been such a selfish twit for so long. I feel like a jerk. I've never thought about how much Claudia sacrificed because of me. I just took it as my due. No longer. If I ever see my sister again, I'm going to apologize. “At any rate, things were difficult. Getting another mouth to feed was the last thing on my mind. If I would have found cat food, I probably would have eaten it.” I smile faintly at the thought. “But most stores that were easily reachable were cleaned out right away. And then once all the gas stations ran out of gas, you were stranded where you were at. A lot of people died in dragonfire, but I think just as many died from starvation.”

Starvation? He nuzzles my neck and then flicks his tongue against my skin. My thighs clench in reaction, but I try to focus on his thoughts. This is a land of plenty. There are those hoof animals everywhere.

“Cows? Deer? Goats?”

Yes? All of those, he agrees, matching the images I send to his mind. How can your people starve?

“Well…we got all of our food from grocery stores. We didn't grow our own crops or raise our own cattle.”

You should have hunted.

I chuckle at the thought. “No one really hunted much anymore, either. It was a very…odd time. Looking back, it only took one or two wrong things to happen for the entire world to fall apart. I guess no one was as prepared as they thought.”

He grunts. My world is very different from this one. The drakoni lands are barren, stripped of almost all life. He sends me a mental image that reminds me of the Badlands, all red and tan rock and desert, with very little life to be seen.

I slide my hand over his arm, wanting to touch him like he touches me. “What did you eat?”

We hunted all day long for what we could. Lizards. Desert scavengers. Mhri. The mental image is that of something that looks like a giant doodlebug, plated on one side and hundreds of legs on the other. Bitter but filling, he agrees. But it is a hard life for those that wish to remain independent.

“Independent?”

Of the Salorians. His mind fills with hate even as images arise in his thoughts of cool white stone cities and verdant greenery on the far side of the mountains. Water shimmers in his memories, surrounded by lush grasses and herds of fat, waddling creatures with flippers and dusky skin. You could starve and watch your family struggle, or you could sell your allegiance to the Salorians in exchange for food for your family.

I brush my fingers over his hand. “And this is what you did?”

He nods slowly, and his thoughts grow vague, as if he's picking through his memories. I remain quiet, waiting for him to speak. I know from conversations with my sister that Kael's mind is fragmented and it's difficult for him to recall who he used to be and his life then. But Rast is different. From the beginning, it's always felt like he's had more left in his head than Kael. He's wilder, I think, and quicker to anger, but maybe that's just part of who he is and the thing that poisons their minds here just amplifies it.

I was young in a very bad time for my people, Rast says after a while. When there was little to hunt and even less to fill the bellies of the drakoni. It was when they demanded things from our people that we dared not give them. They were the enemy and to give yourself to their service meant betraying all that you were as a drakoni. You turned your back on the homelands and your people. You turned your back on your beliefs and you gave your soul to the Salorians to use as they wished. It was a grave, grave dishonor.

“But…you did it,” I whisper.

I can feel his torment. My family was starving. My youngest sister died, her belly caved in. My father had a bad wing and could not hunt. My mother was with young once more and could not leave her nest. My brother Hitaar and I were the only ones who could and we were far too young and inexperienced to hunt enough to feed our family.

“And no one else wanted to help you?”

He brushes his lips against my skin. As a people, it is considered a source of pride to feed your family, to be independent. Those who cannot are shamed, shunned. It was either be shamed by starving to death, or be shamed by enslaving myself to the Salorians who sat on their white thrones and grew fat from the blood and sweat of drakoni servitude. And so I chose them. I was young when I crossed the mountains, just past my trials of adulthood.

He sends a mental image to me of a young golden-skinned man with short, shorn hair and a too-skinny body. His hollow eyes and sad, defiant expression pierce my soul. My heart aches for him.

I went to the Salorians and pledged myself. Let them entrench their evil into my mind willingly in exchange for food to be sent back to my family. I do not think my family took it. They let the tamed svarti be set loose in the desert rather than eat Salorian spoils. His feelings grow hard, edged with resentment. I gave up my freedom for nothing, and threw my entire self into being their tool. If I was to be a soldier in their army, I would be the greatest soldier I could possibly be.

His life makes me sad. I feel his intense anguish and frustration and I wonder that perhaps Kael is better off not remembering his past except in patches. “And were you?”

Did you not see my long claws? Admire their tearing ferociousness? His thoughts are full of amusement and bitterness both. I became a great man, a notable general to the Salorian cause. Many trembled before my shadow. None stood in my way.

I lean back against him and as I do, I see the edge of his jaw, the white crisscross of scars there. I lightly trace them with my skin. “And are these battle wounds?”

No. He grabs my hand and pulls it against his lips, pressing his mouth to them. Do not ask me of that. I see a flash of his brother's face in my mind and then he closes it as thoroughly as I would close a book. Does this satisfy your curiosity?

“To a point,” I admit, smiling despite my confusion. If he has things he doesn't want to share, I understand…and yet at the same time I'm a little hurt that he'd keep me—his mind-linked mate—out of parts of his thoughts.

It is not because I do not want you there, sweet fires. He nips at my ear. It is because it is too hard for me to share it as of yet. Give me time.

Time I can give him. I change topics. “Do you remember about coming through the Rift? I remember the day myself.” I let my mind drift to that time, watching stupid game shows on TV while home from school, sick. I'd had the flu, though not nearly as bad as Claudia. Mine was more pretending, if I'm honest with myself. I wanted to stay home even if my sister was. It's a good thing I did, because I think if I'd have been at school that day, I'd be dead. I wouldn't have made it back home. “It was a quiet morning and then there was this awful sound. I remember it was so loud that my ears popped and felt like they were bursting. We went outside to see what it was and this big…hole just opened in the sky.” I shiver at the memory. “It took a while for us to realize that dragons were coming through and that they were murdering people. We saw the fires spread across the city, but we thought it was just rioters or people looting. We didn't know…and then it was too late.”

I do not remember that day, Rast tells me. I am glad. I do not want to remember it. All I know is that one day I was in my world, and the next I am here, my mind devoured by madness and bloodlust. He caresses my arm. I might have smelled you that day and not realized it. I might even be the one that destroyed your parents.

It feels like there's an enormous knot in my throat. “It happened. I can't change it. Neither can you. We can only move forward.”

That is right. And there are no Salorians here.

The knot in my throat gets bigger.

Rast goes still underneath me. Tell me what you know. His mind flares, and I can feel the rage building behind his calm words. My mate. My Amy. Do not think to hide such a thing from me. Are those foul ones here?

I swallow hard. “There was one. He died, though.”

If there was one, there will be more. Where was he last seen? His body under mine is like a statue, unmoving and hard.

I'm suddenly flooded with fear. “No, Rast, please. I don't want you to go find him.”

He needs to be destroyed. His thoughts are wild, and I can practically feel the anger vibrating through him. I remember the terrible things they made us do. They took over our minds, used us like we were playthings.

“I know,” I say softly. “He did that to my friend's dragon-mate. But I promise he's dead. I wouldn't lie to you about this.”

Rast's thoughts calm a little with every word I speak. I reach up and caress his jaw again. It feels…wrong to not go after them, he admits after a long moment. You cannot know how many times I dreamed of ripping them apart. Of having control of myself once again. Do you know what it is like to be conscious of who you are and what you are doing, and yet someone else controls your movements? Do you know how many of my own people I slaughtered, screaming inside because I did not want to? But I did not have a choice because the Salorians owned my mind. I vowed I would avenge them. Now that I have the chance…to not pursue such a thing is strange.

“You'll stay with me, won't you?” I ask, caressing him. “You won't leave me alone?”

That brings his focus back to me, and he leans in and brushes his lips over mine in the gentlest of kisses. No. I would never abandon you. It is as you said—the past is in the past. My mind link with them is broken now. That is all that matters. You are all that matters. His hand slides over my waist. Even now, you might be carrying my young.

I gasp. “You think so?”

It is early yet, but it is not unheard of.

I bite my lip and then let my thoughts trail in a direction I've avoided for days. Is that why you won't touch me anymore?

Rast chuckles, the sound a rumble in his throat, even as he dips his head and licks at the side of my neck. Have you been missing my touch? My poor, neglected mate. There's such a flirty tone in his thoughts that it makes me all breathless. I have been giving your body time to heal. I touched your thoughts and felt your bruises, your aches. I would never wish to harm you, but some things cannot be helped.

Great, now I'm blushing. He dug through my thoughts and found my bruises? I know where those were and I'm dying of embarrassment inside.

Do not be embarrassed. We are one. I knew we mated roughly. His fingers stroke my cheek. But you liked it as much as I did.

Did I think I was embarrassed before? That's nothing compared to how I feel now. The floor swallowing me up sounds pretty good at the moment, and Rast chuckles at my mental images. He gets to his feet, me still in his arms, and I cling to his neck so I don't lose my balance. He carries me across the room, toward our bed, and my heart flutters at the realization. He sets me down there with infinite tenderness, like I am the greatest treasure he's ever seen, and then peels back my robe.

It falls open, revealing my naked body underneath. Rast pushes the plush white fabric to the side and then gets on his knees at the edge of the bed, pulling my thighs toward his shoulders.

“Wh-what are we doing?” I ask, breathless.

I am pleasing my mate, just as she has asked. If her cunt aches too much for my cock, I will give her my tongue instead.

“Oh,” I protest, and my entire body trembles. I'm not sure I asked for this. I mean, I'm more than happy to take it, but I'm just a little surprised.

Do not be. Tasting you is a pleasure I have fought against for nights on end. I wanted to wake you with my mouth between your thighs, my tongue on your cunt. I wanted to watch you scream my name and wanted to feel your puny claws in my hair. I did not, though, because I worried you were not strong enough to withstand the fires sickness and the demands of your mate. But if you are feeling better…

I moan as his mouth finds just the spot he was describing. “For the record?” I tell him, and then whimper when he begins to tongue me with strong strokes. “You can wake me up anytime.”