RAST

I smell the smoke on the breeze before I sense the dragon.

We travel along the path of the highway the next day, following it from above. As we do, we pass through the ruins of many old towns and cities, all uninhabited, their buildings and cars abandoned and gutted like empty shells. The only living things we see are deer and cattle, wandering in the trees and tall grasses that work to reclaim the land now abandoned by humans. It is peaceful, and my Amy is easier riding on my back this morning.

But when I smell the other, I stiffen. My mouth waters with the need to attack and protect, and I beat my wings slower, wanting to put more distance between myself and the stranger until I find out what he intends. Another dragon, I tell my mate.

Where? she asks, and I can feel her tremble against my scales.

Distant, but this is his territory. I can feel it as much as I feel her worry pressing in my mind. I send out a mental feeler, making contact with the other.

A wild jumble is the response I get.

I am shocked at the severity of it, the chaos that threatens to overburden my mind. It is a male dragon, completely lost to the wildness as I once was. Flashes of images burn through his mind into mine, confusing and chaotic and so full of anger and rage. There is nothing left of the drakoni he once was, only the need to attack and burn, his instincts whittled down to one specific imperative: destroy.

I send him a warning, a signal that only a mated male uses. I tell him without words that I am protecting my mate, and his instincts are not so far gone. He acknowledges it, acquiescing to me, and in the distance, I see the gleam of golden scales as he approaches. I can feel his envy and hunger for his own mate, fighting against the madness that swamps his mind.

He is coming, I tell Amy. Do not be frightened. He merely wishes to see my mate.

I can feel her hands clench against my neck, but she gives me a brave response. All right. Do I need to say anything?

No, just remain quiet. He is still wild.

I can do quiet. She seems relieved.

I am less relieved—this male should not harm her, but I cannot be certain. I must be on alert. I continue to fly along my path even as he circles nearer, and I can feel the open curiosity in his mind. I send out a warning, a subtle threat if he comes closer, and he shifts his wings to move along the breeze, obeying. He will not approach beyond what is safe. I can tell the moment he sees her on my back, because his mental confusion becomes full of envy and wonder both, and he struggles against the madness, trying to find sanity somewhere in his mind and failing. As he flies parallel to me, I glance over and I am shocked.

He is missing one claw on a wing, and one horn along his brow. I knew a soldier like that. Jurik, I send to him, remembering his name. We served under the Salorians together. I recall him as a laughing, easygoing warrior with deadly accuracy. Is that you?

I receive nothing in response except more madness. If it is him, he is long gone. As I watch, he veers away and the anger boils through his insane mind. He opens his mouth and lets out a long gout of furious fire, burning the trees along his path as if he can take out his frustrations on them.

Are you okay? Amy asks. I can feel your shock. Something is wrong.

I know him, I tell her. Or I did. Once upon a time we both served as warriors together. He does not remember his name. I am saddened and horrified at how wild he is. Even now, I watch as he descends and attacks a flaming tree as if it has caused him grave insult. He is crazed.

I know, she tells me, and I can feel her small hand stroke my neck.

Are we all like this? It is different to see it from afar, when my mind is clear and whole. It is…terrible.

All except those that have taken a mate, she agrees. The only dragons I've ever seen that are sane are ones with a mate. Everyone else is completely lost.

I watch him as he leaves, snarling and setting fire to the trees, attacking them as if they are the enemy. I was that, once.

Amy saved me.

AMY

On day two of our travel, I wake up the next morning with my period.

To say I'm devastated is an understatement. It's not that I want to be pregnant—I'm not sure I'm ready for that just yet because everything is so new. But that means a week of no sex with Rast. It also means uncomfortable travel, feeling gross and bloaty, and I only have two tampons left, which means I need to save them for a really, really bad emergency.

Damn. It.

We stop at another convenience store we see along the highway, but it's completely ransacked. There's nothing left to be found, and even if there was, I doubt tampons would be there. They're rarer than canned food in the After, it seems. I have to resort to stuffing scraps down my panties, and it makes me feel ugly and gross, and I cringe as I spread my legs to get on Rast's back.

It is a natural thing, my mate, he responds, sending me comforting thoughts. And it does not have to mean no mating for a week.

Oh yes it does, I tell him as I wrap the sheet around my back and then loop the front over his neck. We're getting better at using my goofy “seat belt.” I feel the opposite of sexy right about now.

He grunts, his answer when he doesn't agree with me but also doesn't want to argue. Even now, you still smell fresher than your human hive.

Of course, that only makes me groan with dismay. I forgot about his heightened senses. He can smell everything. I feel sick. Let's just go, I tell him. And let's try not to think about this.

It's clear Rast doesn't understand my awkwardness, but then again, what guy can?

It gets worse with every hour, my cramps beginning and a slight headache from the dry wind turning into a raging migraine. I feel terrible when he suggests we stop early, because according to my map, we can get there today. It's not even noon yet, I protest. We can keep going.

Not if you hurt, he tells me stubbornly, and circles low, landing in a grassy field.

No amount of protests from me make him get back into the air, and so I slide off his back and collapse on the ground, clutching my abdomen. Maybe it's the changes in my body because of his venom or maybe it's all the physical stuff I've been doing recently, but my period seems worse than usual and it's miserable. I move to the shade of a nearby tree and use the pack as a pillow to rest my aching head. I'll be fine, I tell him. Just give me a few.

What can I do? he asks, and I feel his shadow fall over me. I can feel his concern.

Let me lie here and bleed to death? I joke, but when I feel an immediate flare of alarm coming from his thoughts, I open my eyes and reach up to touch him. “That was a joke.”

A poor one. He moves to sit at my side, then eases my head into his lap. Do you wish me to hunt you something to eat?

Not hungry, I tell him, closing my eyes again. My hair's spilling over his naked thighs and dick, and I can't find that I care. His body is warmer than a heating pad, and it actually helps my head a little.

Rast's fingers stroke over my brow, brushing my hair back. May I touch you?

It feels good, I admit, remaining still as he caresses me.

Then rest, my dragon-man tells me. We will go again when you are ready.

We can't waste time.

Yes we can. We owe them nothing.

People are in danger if a dragon's attacking the city—

Then we will tell them that my mate was sick and I refused to fly until she felt better.

I'm not sure how an excuse of, “Yeah, we were coming to rescue you but I was menstruating. Hope that's not a big deal,” will go over with these people.

He growls low. You are my mate. I will take care of you. Do not pretend as if you feel fine when you do not. I do not care about any of these people we go to “rescue.” I only care about one person and if she does not feel well, I am not flying anywhere. His fingers skate over my brow. And that is my final response.

I say nothing. I feel like he's wrong, but I also feel pretty terrible, so I'm not going to argue. His hands feel good against my skin and I close my eyes, determined to nap. The sooner I feel better, the sooner we can get on the road.

* * *

I wake up a while later and sip some water, realizing that the sun is almost going down and I've slept most of the day away. Rast hasn't moved from his spot under the tree, still carefully rubbing my temples and grazing my forehead with his fingertips. I feel a lot better even if my cramps aren't pleasant.

We will find a place to sleep and then we will go there tomorrow, Rast insists. I will not argue over this. He gives me a watchful look and then takes the canteen from me when I offer it to him, drinks a sip, and then stoppers it. I know he's saving most of it for me, because that's just how he is.

And that's fine that he won't argue over whether or not we need to go on tonight, because my plans have changed. While I slept, I came up with a different solution. “We need to go to a store,” I tell him.

To look for more items to assist your bleeding? He picks up my pack and adjusts the top, making sure it's zipped tight.

Gah. I can feel myself blushing at hearing it so baldly stated. “Not just that. I think…I think when we go toward the city, you need to be in disguise.”

Disguise. He repeats the word slowly in his mind, rolling it around. After a moment, he gives a little shake of his head. I do not follow. Explain.

I straighten my clothing and look over at him. “We're approaching a human city, right? And they're currently under attack by a dragon. They might know that he can turn human. They might not. They might be ready to attack all dragons and I don't want that. So I think we should hide what you are.”

Hide? I am not letting you go in alone—

“No, no, not like that,” I murmur, and then touch my dress. “We get you clothing. A cap to cover your horns. Some sunglasses to cover your eyes. And we pretend like you're human.”

He bares his fangs, a look of disgust on his proud features.

“And we don't make that expression,” I add quickly, because it makes him look anything but human. When he does that, he's all fearsome teeth and menace.

I do not wish to pretend to be human. How am I going to do that? Rub dung on myself? Rast sounds offended. Roll in the mud?

“Jeez, I see how you think of me,” I tell him, hurt.

His jaw clenches and he moves to my side, cupping my face in his big hands. You know I do not consider you as the others. You are mine. That makes you different.

“Yes, but I'm still human.” I put my hands over his, squeeze them. “Try and be a little more patient with them, please.”

Rast grunts, and that's as good an apology as I'm going to get. Tell me more of your plan.

“Well, I'm thinking that you can tell the dragon that we're going to go into the city and to stop attacking.”

Because we are going to send out his mate, Rast guesses.

“Well, I guess we can tell him that.”

My dragon-man arches his brows at me. Because we are going to send her out.

“I'm not sending anyone out if she doesn't wish to go. But if we're inside the city then we can help figure out what's going on.”

His chest rumbles, and I can tell he's displeased by the plan. So you are asking me to lie to one of my people that is suffering? Simply because it is easier for the humans?

“Well, when you put it that way, you make me sound like a jerk,” I tell him unhappily. “What about the poor human female that doesn't know what's going on? How am I going to convince her that a dragon won't hurt her without talking to her? And she won't talk to me unless she trusts me. She won't trust me if I show up with a dragon at my side. These things take time.”

His jaw clenches. I see. What would you have me do?

“Wear human clothes. Just while we're in the city. We don't have to stay there more than a few days if you don't want to—”

A few days? His eyes immediately turn black. You intend to stay there overnight?

I stroke his arm, filling my thoughts with soothing images. “Rast, baby, listen to what I'm saying. If I thought it was dangerous, would I suggest this? I don't want to get hurt, either. I think after today it's obvious I'm not good with pain.”

He pulls me against his chest as if that can change my mind and strokes my hair. I do not like your suffering, either. If I could take it, I would.

“Well, I would be happy to give you my period, but that's not how it works, unfortunately,” I say, petting his chest. “But humans hide in forts now. It's the only place that offers safety from dragons. Now how would it look if we showed up at the human city and tried to leave at dark? If you were a human, what would you think?”

I would think I needed a bath—

I smack his chest lightly. “I'm serious. Think.”

Rast grunts. You are…not wrong.

I can't help but smile at how grudging his response is. “I know I'm not.”

The moment we have finished helping these fools, we are leaving, he warns me. I do not like the scent of a human hive. It attacks the weak spots in my mind. There's a hint of fear in his thoughts, and I wonder if he's imagining the dragon we saw earlier. He was so shocked at how lost the other one was, how mindless. My poor Rast. It has to be so hard to see his people suffer like that and know there's nothing he can do to help.

I look up at him and cup his jaw. “I'll be at your side every moment. I won't let you go wild again, I promise.”

He takes my hand in his and presses his mouth to my knuckles. I trust you.

And somehow, that feels like the biggest gift of all—trust. Trust that he's going to let me take the lead on what could be a dangerous plan. No one's ever let me be in charge before. It feels incredible and a little overwhelming all at once.

“I won't let you down,” I whisper to him.