by Ruby Dixon
Once I am free, of course.
I tug at my chains again, snarling in frustration. I want to see Emma. I want to look at my mate again, drink in her features, inhale deeply of her scent. The short time we had together was not enough. I need more.
I must be patient, though. I cannot scare her into hiding away from me, not when I am trapped. I must make her realize that she is mine, and I will protect her from everyone else that threatens her.
But first I must somehow get free. I glance over at the creature—the human—nearby. He ignores me, and I do not like his scent. I do not want him here. I want my mate. I reach out to touch her mind, but when I do, she is asleep, and I can feel the exhaustion in her.
I relax in my bonds, even though I must grit my teeth. I will wait for her. She is worth it. For now, she must sleep. Instead, I will watch and learn, and acquaint myself with what I can of this place. My mind is now clear, and I feel as if I am seeing this place for the first time on this day.
I must learn all that I can.
EMMA
It’s weird having a stranger roost in your thoughts. Even weirder when that stranger’s not all that human. I sleep for most of the day, but each time I wake up, I can feel Zohr in my thoughts, his subtle presence a reminder that I’m never going to have a moment to myself ever again.
I’ll deal with that some other time, though. I’ve got other problems. I manage to rouse myself from my bed after a time and check my head. No infection. The wound looks tight and hurts me less than yesterday.
Your sickness is because of my fires, nothing more.
Right, thanks for listening in, I snark to myself, but try to keep that thought separate. How long does this last? I ask him.
Not long. You must rest and regain your strength. I need you and you are not strong right now.
The simple confidence in his thoughts is a little unnerving, but he’s right that I need to sleep. I return to bed, and when I wake up again, it’s dawn and Old Jerry’s in my room, checking my bandages.
“How the fuck did you get in here?” I mumble to him, pulling my musty blankets tighter around my body.
Even in a greeting, I have to confront Jerry and the others with a foul mouth, because they view it as a sign of strength.
“I showed myself in. Hold still.”
I glance over at my door, but the lock’s not busted. Old Jerry must have forgotten to lock it when he left yesterday and I was too sick to notice. I don’t like the thought. Anyone could have come in, and I don’t trust any of these guys not to rob me blind…or worse. “Thanks,” I force myself to mumble.
Are you unsafe? The thought blasts through my head, full of alarm. Shall I come for you?
Wait, no! It’s fine! I must have been thinking a little too “loudly.” Everything’s okay, I promise. Just stay where you are. We can’t have them know that we’re communicating or it’s going to put you in danger. Just stay calm, all right?
It is easy for you to say, he tells me, and sounds grumpy even in his thoughts. You are not the one chained down in this strange place.
I have to bite back a reluctant smile at that. You’re right, it is easy for me to say. But please, just trust me, okay? You have to trust that I know what I’m doing if we’re going to get out of here.
You are the only one I trust, Emma. But I will do as you ask.
Thank you, Zohr. I—
“Hurting?” Old Jerry asks, distracting me.
“Huh? What?” I blink at him, trying to focus.
“You’re frowning. Your head hurting you?”
“No, I feel much better,” I tell him, clutching my blankets tighter to my chest. It’s not a hundred percent the truth, but I do feel much better than yesterday, and I’ve got a lot to do. “I’d like to get back to work in the kitchens, if that’s not a problem.”
“You sure?” He gives me a long, hard look. “Still seem kind of…” He shrugs.
“I still seem kind of what?” I prompt when he goes quiet.
Old Jerry shrugs. “Out of it. Distracted. If you need to sleep another day, I’ll tell Azar and the others you’ve got the plague or some shit. For the right price, of course. You got more of those granola bars?”
“I have two more in my bag, and I promise I’m fine,” I tell him with an over-bright, fake smile. “Nothing a good breakfast won’t fix.”
“Shame you’re with this crew, then. A good breakfast ain’t something you get around here unless your name’s Azar.” He gives a phlegmy laugh at his own joke.
I laugh along with him, even though I don’t find it all that funny.
Is he bothering you?
No, but you are! Can you be quiet for two seconds so I can think?
Only two seconds? Not much thinking.
I snort aloud at that, and when Old Jerry gives me a weird look, I slide my legs over the side of the bed. “Let me get you those bars.”
9
EMMA
I wipe my watering eyes as I flip a pancake over the makeshift grill set up in the kitchen. The smell of my rose perfume seems exceptionally strong today, and it’s so bad that it’s destroying my sinuses. I used a lot of it. A hell of a lot. I can’t afford to run into Azar and have him suspect anything, and if Zohr’s right and my scent is off, Azar’s sure to notice.
The other ladies give me weird looks in the kitchen as we work. Carol’s doing her best to stand far away from me, and when I hand her the plate of food and ask her to take it out to Azar, she looks relieved to get out of the kitchen and away from my stench.
That’s all right, though. Let them think I’m stinky. I have other things to focus on. Zohr’s still in my head—I don’t know if he’ll ever be out of my head, to be honest—but he’s being quiet, and I wonder if he’s sleeping.
Just observing.
Guess not. We need to think about a plan to get you out of here. How is—
Carol returns a moment later, a troubled look on her face. “Hey, Emma? Azar said he wants to see you.”
“Me?” The word comes out as a squeak. Sometimes I bring Azar his food, and sometimes I let the others do it. He’s never asked to see me specifically, though, and I’m a little worried. “Did he say what he wants?”
“No.” She moves to the sink and begins to wash the dishes busily, as if making eye contact with me will get her in trouble.
Well, shit. Do you think he knows? I ask Zohr.
That we are mates? If he cannot smell it on you, I do not see how. Should I connect my mind to his and—
No, I tell him quickly. Sasha was very adamant about keeping Dakh away from Azar, and even though I don’t know a lot about dragon communication, I’m guessing that if they connect minds, it’ll be a bad thing. Just talk to me, okay?
That will be a pleasure. Come sit with me, if you cannot free me. I wish to see your face.
I want to, but I have to go see what Azar wants.
Tell me if he touches you, comes the startlingly possessive thought. You are mine, and if he even tries to sniff you, I will rend him limb from limb.
I thought you were going to do that anyhow? I tease, trying to keep the mood light instead of bloodthirsty.
I am. I am just curious if I need to do it fast or slow.
I laugh, because for some reason, his wry response makes me smile. I have very few things to smile about lately, it seems. I’m still smiling when I exit the kitchen and head into the dining room. The moment the door swings shut behind me, though, it feels as if all the air is sucked out of the room.
Azar sits alone. He stares in my direction with cold, narrowed eyes, and I feel goosebumps crawl up my spine. No sunglasses today. I wonder if that’s a bad sign? I’m too far away from him for my scent to carry, aren’t I? I keep the calm, take-no-shit expression on my face, but inside I’m freaking out.
Shall I come for you? Say the word!
No! Just…let me handle this! I can’t think with the dragon bearing down on my thoughts. It’s confusing, and I stumble as I move forwar
d.
I feel Zohr mentally back off, and bite back my sigh of relief. Thank goodness. I can only concentrate on one thing at a time, and I can’t worry about filtering his thoughts out of mine. “Hi, Azar,” I manage, trying to sound cheerful and tough at the same time. “You called for me?”
He gestures at the seat pulled at the table next to his. “Sit.”
I move forward, wondering absurdly who moved the chair there for him, since I don’t see him as the type to do it for himself. I pull it out, trying to put as much distance between us without making it seem like I’m retreating, and then gingerly sit down. My hand goes to my belt, and I realize too late that I don’t have a knife with me. Shit, shit, shit.
If he touches you…
Shhh! I need to think!
I give Azar an attentive look. “What’s up?”
His nostrils flare, and for a moment, I panic. “You…smell different.” My heart hammers in my breast as he tilts his head, regarding me. “What has changed?”
“I w-was sick?” I stammer out. “Old Jerry gave me some meds, and I didn’t have time to bathe this morning, so I put on a bit of extra perfume to cover the sweaty smell. Is it bad?” I lift an arm and sniff one of my pits, then glance over at him.
Azar’s lip curls at the sight of me and my crude actions. “Sick?”
“Yup, the flu. Don’t worry, I didn’t sneeze on your food.” I smile brightly, hoping he thinks I am stupid. Everything’s easier when people think you’re stupid.
He clasps his pale, pale hands in front of him, taking time to lace his fingers together, as if he wants to make sure he gets it right. It’s bizarre to watch, but it just confirms my suspicions that he’s a dragon.
Salorian, Zohr returns. There is no doubt in my mind. And he is not drakoni. We are not the same.
I’m surprised by his vehemence. It’s an insult to be the other in his eyes? You sure? He’s got that same weird coloring you do, but you carry yours a lot better.
I can tell by your thoughts you found my coloring pleasing. His thoughts grow smug and sultry all at once. And if you do not believe that he is Salorian, I can touch his mind, find out—
Noooope, I cut off Zohr immediately. Nix that thought.
His mental chuckle feels warm.
Thought you were going to butt out?
This is your mate, pushing out his butt.
It is the hardest thing in the world to not laugh in that moment. I choke a little and then cough into my hand, as if I’m not quite over my cold.
“When I heard you were not responsible for my meals yesterday, I grew curious if you had decided it was time to leave, now that your brother is gone.” The question is put to me with a delicate tone, but there’s steel behind it.
“I can leave if I’m not welcome,” I say quickly, but I’m distressed at the thought. If they boot me from camp and Zohr’s still here—
I will find you, comes the firm reply in my mind.
For some reason, that calms me. I’m able to focus on Azar and his response.
“On the contrary. I wish for you to stay. It would upset me greatly if you were to try to leave.” He gives me a thin smile that’s probably supposed to be comforting and is anything but.
I’m pretty sure this is a veiled threat. “I’m grateful that Boyd and the others made me so welcome here. It’s hard out in the After for a woman alone.” I give him my dopiest stupid-girl smile and lie. “No plans on leaving.”
You act like you are not clever. Do your males believe such things? Zohr asks, his thoughts both scathing and shocked at once.
I ignore him. I have to, because Azar’s speaking again.
“I am glad you will remain. After all, I would hate to lose the one that makes my meals for me.” Again, the thin disingenuous smile. “I wanted to make sure we were clear. I regret the loss of your brother, but I wanted to make certain that you knew your place was here.”
Yup, definitely a threat. “I know where I stand.”
“Good. In my eyes, you are irreplaceable.” I freeze a little at that, but then he picks up his fork and begins to eat with tiny, measured bites.
Oh. He’s talking about the cooking and I’m being a spaz, imagining the worst. ”Thank you.”
He nods, picking at a bit of soggy fruit cocktail with his fork. “You may leave.”
Jeez. How did he ever get a bunch of followers with that shitty, superior attitude? Of course, I’m an idiot because I managed to get sucked in to his group, though not entirely of my own making. With the tight smile on my face and a silent curse at my dumb brother and my even worse luck, I sidle out of the dining room and back into the kitchens.
I do not like this, Zohr tells me. I do not trust him.
Me either, but I’m low on options.
10
ZOHR
My thoughts are clear without the endless rage, and I am glad…but it makes the day seem long and time passes slowly. No matter how hard I pull against my bonds, they do not budge. My body is uncomfortable, my mind tired, and my skin itches with the need to shift. This is the longest I have been in my two-legged form without changing to battle-form, and it fills me with frustration. As the day creeps on, my frustration begins to turn to rage once more. I can feel the blackness seeping back into my thoughts, and I almost welcome it.
Almost.
But I remember that anger. I remember being…nothing, no drakoni warrior, no Zohr in that haze. I only existed. I lost who I was. I do not want to go back to that. But this endless captivity is gnawing at my sanity, and I worry it is only a matter of time before I slip under once more. Only the thought of my new mate helps calm my spirits. I feel the bleak, empty anger building, and reach out to her, feeling her mind. Something—anything—to anchor me. To make me feel like myself.
Emma’s thoughts are like pure sunlight. The touch of her thoughts burns away the clouds of anger, and I breathe a little easier. She is close enough that her mind-link feels strong, her emotions filling my head. But she is far enough away that I cannot smell her, and my thin control threatens to snap. I tug, snarling, at my chains again. Emma! My patience comes to an end. Where are you? I send desperately. I feel myself slipping, and it worries me how easy it is to descend back into madness. I am losing control.
Be calm! Please. I’m heading your way, I promise. Her thoughts wash over me like a wave of cool water, but it is not enough.
I need to see her, to breathe her in. How soon?
Soon. I need a good excuse to come find you and I’m working on it right now. I get a visual of food and other humans standing around. She is getting something for me to eat. I realize dimly that I am hungry. I have been going on instinct for so long that such a thing is surprising to me. How much of my sanity have I lost? Tell me more about you, I demand from her. Keep my mind occupied. If I think about the fact that I am held down, trapped, it will make me wild. I need a distraction.
What about me? Her thoughts are filled with a calm amusement, as if she cannot believe that we are talking, as if she sees everything the world throws at her and does not let it faze her. I like that. She is strong in spirit, and fearless. I admire that, because I feel my own anger bubble forth far too quickly.
I reach through her surface memories, looking for something to catch. I want to know everything about her, but I must begin somewhere. A thought rises—another male. The dead one. What happened to your sibling? I ask her, trying to recall what she has told me.
He got eaten by a dragon a few days ago. Do you remember the others flying here? Dakh and Kael and their humans?
I consider, but the names mean nothing to me. Have I known them and forgotten? Or are they total strangers? I hate that there is no answer. I do not recall. It was recent?
Yup. Her thoughts are both wry and sad at the same time. A few days ago. Right after I came to…visit you. Her mind grows shy, and a visual flicks between us, of her straddling me. Quickly, her mind flits away from it again and focuses on something else. Her sibling. She is de
termined not to think of what happened between us.
I do not know if I like that. I plan to remind her—frequently—that she is mine.
But my mate’s thoughts remain focused on her brother, and the ache inside them grows. My brother attacked the dragons and lost. I can’t say he didn’t deserve it, though. Boyd wasn’t a nice person.
He wasn’t nice, but Emma still hurts now that he is gone. She feels responsible. Sad. Frustrated. I know these feelings well - they are constant companions since this place stole my mind and my memories. At least she has those of her kin. You can still be sad that he is gone.
I shouldn’t be. Like I said, he was terrible and he caused more trouble than he was worth. But yeah, I still feel bad. And I miss him, weirdly enough. I miss when we were kids and we were friends, back before everything turned to shit.
I pick through her thoughts more, focusing on the resentment edging her thoughts. Maybe it is my own madness that makes me gravitate toward it, but I cannot help myself. Your kin—he is the reason why you are here now? Why you are trapped?
Yup. I was in hiding, but his goons swung by my area and now I’m stuck here with Azar’s bunch of idiots. It’s a shitty situation, but it’s also been made pretty clear to me that I’m not allowed to leave.
Why do others control if you leave or not? Are you chained, as well? I do not sense it in her thoughts, but perhaps I have overlooked it somehow. My own anger begins to stir once more, the red haze enveloping my mind.
Not chained. It’s okay. Her thoughts are soothing, so soothing. Stay calm, Zohr. I’m here.
Calm. Calm. I will try.
Maybe you don’t ask me about things that will make you angry, she teases, again with a hint of humor in her thoughts. I stay because I know how men like this work. They trust no one. If I disappear, they will assume it’s because I am running from them for a reason, and they’ll come after me. I have to stay. It’s just how nomads think.
