by Zoe Chant
It was easy to tell when she was getting close. Shattered branches covered the ground, and even some of the massive pine trunks were broken off. It’s like something huge fell out of the sky, Abigail thought to herself. Has a plane crashed? Wouldn’t I have heard about that on the news, though?
Except she didn’t listen to the news. Not at Christmas. She would have missed—
Abigail frowned. No. Even if I missed a news bulletin, I would have seen search and rescue teams on the road. There would have been something. This is…
She squeezed around a thick layer of brush and gasped. This is something else.
For a moment, her mind refused to believe what it was seeing. The— creature— was immense, its body at least the length of a bus and its tail stretching out even longer behind it. And its wings. It had wings. And scales. And a long, lizard-like head with a line of ridges that ran from behind its nostrils up over its eyes, becoming thicker and harder-looking as they went down its massive back.
The creature’s eyes were closed, and the skin of its eyelids looked strangely delicate next to the clear power and strength of the rest of it.
Not a creature. A dragon. She didn’t have any other word for it and her mind rebelled against it— it was impossible— but there it was. A dragon, crash-landed in the snowy mountains above her home.
Its scales gleamed bright against the white snow and dark trees, a shimmering gold-red-orange that danced like flames.
“This can’t be real,” Abigail whispered, so quietly she could barely hear the words.
The dragon opened its eyes.
Abigail felt as though she was floating. The dragon’s eyes were the same colors as its scales, but filled with liquid fire. Gold and red and orange, strange and magical and— familiar.
Her thought broke off as the dragon began to move. Its eyes were locked on to hers, and it moved slowly, as though it was trying not to frighten her. It pulled its legs back and shifted its weight until it was crouching Sphinx-like in the broken mess of trees and snow.
Abigail was so entranced, she almost forgot to breathe. She was drowning in the dragon’s eyes. Drowning and flying at the same time, her whole body alight with wonder.
The dragon hissed with pain, a sharp, bitten-back noise. Abigail stiffened, but didn’t retreat. She immediately saw what was wrong. One of the dragon’s wings was caught on a broken branch in such a way that it couldn’t pull it free.
“Stay where you are,” Abigail said at once. She didn’t bother to wonder whether it could understand her. It must have, anyway, because it stayed frozen in place as she clambered over broken trees and snowdrifts to grab hold of the splintered branch. “Hold still— I’ll try not to hurt you, but…”
She yanked on the branch. Frozen wood cracked and splintered, and she managed to haul it away enough that the dragon could hitch its wing back. She watched, panting, as it folded its wing awkwardly against its side. It hadn’t taken its eyes off her the whole time.
Abigail scrambled backwards until she was on solid ground again. The dragon swung its massive head around, following her. She still wasn’t scared. She thought she probably should be— if not of the massive mythological creature in front of her, then the possibility that this was all a hallucination, and she was seriously ill or injured. But she wasn’t.
Because she knew those eyes. Gold and red and orange, like looking into the heart of a fire. Like embers, burning with passion.
This is impossible. But…
“Jasper?” she breathed.
She bit her lip the moment the word was out. Of all the stupid ideas to enter your head—
The dragon— it couldn’t be Jasper, that was stupid, that was the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard— the dragon pushed itself up on legs the size of tree-trunks. When it stood up, she could see the damage from its crash into the trees, a thousand cuts and grazes. Some small. Some not so small.
“You’re hurt,” she gasped as the dragon stumbled. It lowered its head until its eyes were level with hers, only a few feet away. Its mouth was just open enough that she could see its long, curved teeth.
But that wasn’t what caught her attention. There was a cut on the dragon’s lip, giving it a cruel-looking sneer. A broken splinter of wood was jammed into the end of the cut.
Abigail reached out automatically, then hesitated. The dragon’s breath flowed over her, warm and spicy-smelling. She took a deep breath. Forget hypothermia. If this goes wrong, you’re going to be burned to a crisp.
Her gloves were too thick and clumsy. She would have to do it bare-handed.
“This is definitely going to hurt,” she warned the dragon after she had stripped off her gloves, and took hold of the splinter. As gently as she could, she began to ease it out.
The dragon’s breath surrounded her, and she could feel its eyes on her, so strange and so strangely familiar.
“Here— just a little more—” The dragon was tense, its breath coming in sharp puffs of spice-scented fog. The splinter was longer than she had expected, and she winced in sympathy as she pulled it slowly from the dragon’s lip. “Almost there—”
Without thinking, she raised her other hand to steady herself against the dragon’s snout. A violent shudder went through the dragon, almost throwing Abigail to the ground. The splinter flew out of her hand and onto the snow, but the dragon didn’t stop shaking— it was shimmering, almost as though its whole shape was changing—
Light filled the clearing. She had grabbed on to the dragon when it started shaking but it wasn’t a dragon anymore. There weren’t scales under her palms, there was skin. Her fingers tangled in curling hair.
She fell to her knees and he fell with her. Not a dragon.
“Jasper,” she gasped, staring up at him. The dragon’s eyes gazed back at her, from Jasper’s face. Red and gold and burning and…
I was right. It is Jasper. The dragon— how is this possible?
“Abigail—” Jasper’s voice was choked. His face was scratched, his hair tousled with snow and twigs, but he was staring at her like she was the most precious thing in the world.
“How— what—” Abigail had too many questions. Then Jasper’s arms closed around her and all her questions dissolved. He kissed her hungrily, desperately, and Abigail clung to him, drinking him in. His kisses. His touch. His tangled hair, the smooth lines of his back under her hands— was he naked?
His injuries. She’d seen the cut on his face, still— was he—
Abigail was still gathering her thoughts when Jasper groaned and sagged against her. She braced against him, pushing them both to kneel upright. Jasper’s head lolled on her shoulder.
“Jasper!”
“’m alright,” he muttered, his voice slurred. “I…”
He collapsed against her, too heavy for her to hold. They both fell to their knees.
CHAPTER 16
Jasper
He meant to say more. He was fine, he was dandy, everything was wonderful… but the words didn’t make it out of his mouth. They barely made it through his head. Everything was fuzzy. And cold.
“You’re naked and bleeding in the snow on a mountainside in the middle of nowhere.”
Jasper grinned into Abigail’s shoulder. She sounded so annoyed. “’s alright,” he managed to croak. “’s not a problem.”
Her irritated tsk warmed his heart. Which was good, because a lot of the rest of him was really cold. Really, really cold.
“And you’re a dragon. And… I need to get you back to the car,” Abigail muttered. Probably to herself. But Jasper agreed. Car. That was a good idea.
He tried to help as she put his arm over her shoulder and led him back down the hillside, but his foots weren’t walking properly. Feets. Feet. Legs. Wings. No! No wings. If he couldn’t walk he definitely couldn’t fly. Also, he would probably squish Abigail if he shifted now. That would be bad. That would be so bad.
Something smacked into his stomach and Jasper looked down. A car? He was sure he
hadn’t left the car here. “Wassat?”
“My shitty car,” Abigail said. Her voice seemed to be floating somewhere under his left elbow. He was sure she didn’t used to be that short. Except— his elbow was higher than it usually was. Because it was on her shoulder! He remembered now.
He tried to explain his line of reasoning to Abigail as she tipped him into the passenger seat, but wasn’t sure if he did it very well.
Warm air blasted him in the face. “At least the heating’s working,” Abigail muttered from the driver’s seat. He gazed across at her. She was so beautiful. Especially when she was frowning at him like that. And biting her lip. “Your place is further up this road, right?”
He nodded. “Mmm,” he said, eloquently, and dozed off. Abigail. Car. His place. Good.
* * *
Jasper jerked awake. “Nrrr,” he said urgently. “Turn off here.”
“Here?” The car slowed down and Jasper felt Abigail tap him on the cheek. “Are you even awake?”
“Yes,” Jasper insisted. He blinked until his eyes focused in on her. This was important. She could not drive straight up to the Heartwell lodge. That would be… awkward. Terrible. All the bad things.
Abigail raised her eyebrows. “Am I going to take the word of a naked, half-frozen man-dragon, to turn down this road towards a house that may exist only in his raving dreams… or the proof of my own eyes, which can definitely see a house up ahead here?” She pointed and Jasper groaned. The Heartwell lodge was clearly visible a few miles up the road.
He turned to Abigail, summoning his most imploring face. “Raving man-dragon. Please.”
Abigail squeezed her eyes shut. “Fine,” she grumbled, and hauled on the wheel. Gravel crunched under the car wheels as they started down the side-road.
That’s good, Jasper thought. Take her home. Proper home. No Cole jumping on her. Home… hoard…
He reached out one hand and put it on her thigh, reassuring himself she was still there. She felt hot, even through her pants. Or maybe he was cold still? Something to think about. Later. After a short nap…
* * *
Jasper hadn’t thought ahead enough to wonder what to expect when he and Abigail reached his cottage. But whatever he might have expected, it wasn’t waking up half-in a steaming hot bath. He flailed.
“Hey! Watch it!” Abigail squeaked. “Jeez, you’re heavy enough even without— just get in, will you?”
Jasper paused. His mind was still cotton-candy-fuzzy, but he was awake enough to take account of where he was. Inside. Hot bath. Abigail’s arms under his armpits, lowering him into bath.
“Mmm,” he moaned, and relaxed down into the tub. “’s good.”
“I should hope so. You’re freezing, it’s all I could think of…”
Jasper’s dragon tensed. Abigail’s voice was brittle with worry. He turned around, holding onto the edge of the bath and seeking out his mate’s face.
She met his eyes and sat down on the floor with a thud, reaching over the edge of the tub to hug his shoulders. He could feel her muscles shaking.
“Abigail…” he murmured. Her name didn’t hurt to think or say anymore. It sat like an ember in the very center of his heart, warming his soul.
“You wouldn’t wake up,” she whispered into his shoulder. “You were so cold, and you were bleeding— and then you weren’t bleeding, and it looked like all your cuts were, were gone, but you were even colder…”
And you dragged me out of the car and in here, terrified out of your mind. Jasper kissed her neck until she stopped shaking, and then lifted her chin off his shoulder. “You did exactly the right thing,” he reassured her. It wasn’t the hot bath that was sending energy through his veins, though. It was her. Just her, being here, with him.
It was almost perfect. Jasper’s mind was clearing. “There’s only one other thing I need right now,” he said, his voice husky.
“Anything— hey!” Abigail protested as he looped his arms around her and started to pull her over the side of the tub. “I’m still wearing all my clothes!”
Jasper kissed her. “I know.” He rose up, pressing his chest against hers— and leaned backwards, pulling her with him.
“You—” Abigail put her hands on his chest, pushing him away, and an adorable line appeared between her eyebrows. “Is this a…”
Her voice trailed away and she bit her lower lip.
“Go on,” urged Jasper, his heart racing. She’d seen him. She’d seen him as a dragon, and she had seen him shift. He wanted to hear her say it.
Abigail’s cheeks went pink. “I…” She groaned and ducked her head. “God, this sounds so stupid. I thought you were a dragon. But I must have been dreaming, or hallucinating from the shock— just like I thought you were injured worse than you actually are…”
Jasper a finger under her chin and lifted her head back up. “You weren’t dreaming or hallucinating,” he murmured. Abigail’s eyes went wide, and inside him, Jasper’s dragon preened. “I can turn into a dragon.”
“Bullshit.”
Jasper laughed out loud. “Bullshit? You saw it.”
“I saw—” Abigail’s face had been tense with self-doubt, but now it cleared. Her eyes shone. “I did see it. You were a dragon, and then you turned into… into you. It was amazing. Magical.”
She relaxed against him, and Jasper took advantage of her inattention to scoop her up and pull her on top of himself in the bath. She shrieked and splashed until he pacified her with a passionate kiss.
“God dammit,” she grumbled into his lips. “You couldn’t have waited for me to get undressed?”
“No.” Jasper felt as though sunlight was running through his veins. He worked his way under Abigail’s jacket and sweater until his fingers found her skin, warm and soft and wonderful. “There wasn’t time.” He kissed her again. “I needed you. I need you. Here. Right now.” Another kiss. “No time to lose.”
Abigail’s cheeks were even pinker now. Droplets of water clung to her eyelashes like tiny diamonds. She had never looked more beautiful. “You needed me? Is that a… a dragon thing?”
Jasper stroked her lower back, drawing small circles with his palm. “Partly,” he admitted. He nipped her lower lip before she could bite down on it. “Mostly, I didn’t want to spend another moment without you in my arms.”
He lay back in the bathtub, the water lapping around his chest. Abigail moved with him, lying with her head resting on his shoulder. Jasper could already feel the strength returning to his limbs. And… other places.
Was it only hours ago that he’d given up hope? And now everything his heart desired was here, in his arms.
“I was lost, and you found me. You brought me back,” he murmured.
He looked down at his precious, beautiful Abigail. His mate. Her jacket, soaking wet and heavy, covered them both like a blanket; under it she was wearing sensible pants and a warm knit sweater. The ends of her hair were wet, floating on the surface of the water like delicate seaweed. And her face was pale.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, sweeping a wet strand of hair behind her ear. Abigail squeezed her eyes shut briefly.
“I almost didn’t come,” she admitted in a whisper. “I thought— after last night— when I freaked out at you… you wouldn’t want anything to do with me.”
Jasper’s arms tightened around her of their own accord. “Never,” he said firmly. “And, remember. You’re not the only one who freaked out.”
“I…” Abigail grimaced and pushed herself upright. The bath was big enough so that they could both sit in it comfortably; Jasper waited as she settled herself at the other end, then reached out for her hand. She took his immediately. “I came here to apologize, and explain, and I— wait.” Her eyes searched his, suddenly tense. “You freaked out, too? Is that why… Oh, God.” She seemed to crumple in on herself. “Was that because of me? You getting hurt?”
Guilt lanced across her face. Jasper leaned forward, cupping her cheek. The need to reassure her t
angled with the truth on his lips, tying his tongue in knots.
Abigail covered his hand with her own and took a deep breath. “It is, isn’t it? I drove you off, and you turned into a dragon and… hurt yourself. It’s all my fault.”
“No. No, Abigail, it’s not like that.” Jasper pulled her hand to his lips and kissed it. She looked so small and lost. He needed to fix that. “It’s— it’s another dragon thing. Usually, I’m in balance with my dragon. I can control when I shift. But I’m… I’m not completely well, at the moment.”
“You’re sick?”
“Not quite.” Jasper ran his thumb over Abigail’s knuckles, staring deep into her eyes. “This Christmas is a… well, it was always going to be a difficult time for me.”
“And I made it worse.” Abigail’s mouth went tight and she looked away.
“No. You made it better. So much better than I ever could have imagined. What happened last night was…” Jasper hunted for a way to explain that wasn’t too much, too fast. Abigail looked like she was on the edge of breaking down already. He couldn’t push her over the edge. “My dragon isn’t the sharpest spoon in the drawer. When it thought you didn’t want us anymore, didn’t want me, it almost broke out. I’m sorry I ran away. It was either that or shift in the middle of town.” He paused. “Maybe I should have.”
Abigail made a noise that was half-hiccup, half-laughter. “Last night? In the middle of the square? I would have freaked out so hard, I went into orbit.” She pulled her hand off her cheek and wiped her face, then sat with both of Jasper’s hands in her own, staring hard at the surface of the water. “I drove you away. No, don’t try to tell me I didn’t. I drove you away, and I meant to. That’s what I have to explain.”
Jasper’s dragon shook inside him. He knew that if he hadn’t been holding Abigail’s hands, it would have been last night all over again. He pushed his dragon down, reminding it that she had come to him; that she had saved him; that she had seen him shift, and brought him here to care for him, and hadn’t run away. The least he and his dragon could do was hear her out without busting the roof off the cottage and disappearing into the sky.
