Veronica’s Dragon

by Ruby Dixon

  A snarl begins in my throat. My mate pushed herself too hard…healing another?

  And they let her? They stood by and decided this was wise?

  I duck into the tent, shaking off the chief's hand. There, lying in the bed, is my mate. She is utterly still, her khui silent even when mine begins to sing to hers. Harlow holds her hand, stroking it.

  "She's just sleeping really deeply," Harlow says in her soft voice. "It's going to be okay, Ashtar. It really is. Maylak gets tired when she overextends herself, too."

  I do not know who this Maylak person is. I do not care. I reach over and gather my sleeping mate in my arms. The silence of her khui alarms me. The way she lies so limply in my grip, like she is dead, terrifies me. Her chest rises and falls evenly, but I cannot stop the panic that races through my body.

  Or the anger.

  They did this to her.

  They let this happen. They let her hurt herself to heal their tribesmate.

  I take one deep breath, and it comes out as smoke. Another. My rage builds. I cannot remain calm. My battle form itches under my skin, and I no longer fight the urge to transform. With Veronica in my arms, I shift forms, letting my dragon “out.” My body surges, the tent ripping into shreds as I transform, and knocking Harlow and Vektal backwards. With my mate in my arms, I surge on my powerful hind legs and fling myself into the air.

  I cannot fly far. With my wings clipped—courtesy of my first slavemaster—I cannot do more than glide a short distance. But my strength is enough to let me fly toward the nearby cliffs and launch myself against the rocky surface. I ignore the frightened cries below and cling to the cliff, Veronica carefully cradled in my arms. I climb higher, moving over the lip to the plateau above and racing away with my mate.

  If they will abuse her, they will not have her. Never again.

  14

  VERONICA

  I'm cold.

  More specifically, my backside is cold. My front is toasty warm. I must be sleeping next to Ashtar. I snuggle a bit closer, trying to snare some more of his heat. Instead of touching his chest, though, I find that I'm pressed up against something hard and enormous. Hot, yes. Breathing, yes. But not human. It takes a moment for this to sink in and I slowly open my eyes, blinking. I slept so deeply that I didn't even dream, so I'm disoriented. Healing is apparently hard work, because I feel like I've been completely flattened.

  Maybe my brain's been toasted, because I open my eyes and I'm staring at a golden wall. It takes me a moment to realize that it's not exactly a wall, and that pattern isn't a pattern but scales. I reach out and touch one, just to make sure—

  And the whole thing shifts. Something moves next to my back—an enormous clawed foot, and overhead, a wing stretches.

  Oh god. Oh god.

  I scuttle backward on my hands and knees, fighting back the shriek building in my throat. It's a monster. A giant, golden monster.

  I…must be dreaming. This can't be real.

  Unless this planet has monster dragons on it and no one told me?

  The breath seizes in my throat as an enormous, car-sized head lowers to look me in the eye. The head certainly looks like a dragon's, with spiky horns on the frill, a sharp nose leading down to massive fangs and flaring nostrils, and a pair of enormous eyes that whirl between gold and black and blue all at once…

  And that makes me pause. Because that reminds me of Ashtar. But Ashtar's not a dragon. He's a…

  Wait.

  I blink at the scales, which are the same color as his skin. The eyes, which flick back and forth between colors like his do when he's agitated. The creature's easily ten times the size of my Ashtar, and yet…and yet Ashtar said he was a drakoni. And this thing's not eating me like I'm a tasty snack. It looks like it's waiting.

  "Um…Ashtar?"

  The enormous head moves in and I close my eyes, holding my breath in terror. Now it's going to eat me. Now it's going to…

  …nose me?

  I squeeze one eye open carefully and sure enough, the thing's nuzzling me. Enormous nostrils, so big I could put a fist into each one, flare and a gust of hot breath whuffs over me. "Hi?" I whisper, still not entirely sure I'm breathing. "It's you," I marvel, reaching up to carefully touch the scales on the snout inches from my face. "What happened? Are you stuck like this?"

  A moment later, I'm touching air and Ashtar is kneeling on the snowy ground in front of me. He straightens, completely naked, and walks toward me with lithe grace.

  I lower my hand, feeling really stupid. Are you stuck like this? Could I be any stupider? It's clear that Ashtar's people are dragon shifters. My cheeks burn with embarrassment. Dumb, dumb Veronica.

  "My mate," Ashtar murmurs, moving to kneel at my side. He cups my face, caressing it even as he searches my eyes. "How are you feeling?"

  He looks worried. "I'm great. So…funny thing," I say, and give a jaw-cracking yawn. "I have a surprise. Turns out I'm a healer."

  "I know. The others told me."

  I'm a little disappointed at that. "They did?" I wanted to be the one to tell him. "Spoilsports."

  His thumb-claws glide over my cheeks and he gives me a worried look. "You are all right, though?"

  "Yes, why wouldn't I be?" I squint up at him, surprised. It's awfully cold, the air blustery and windy, and it takes me a moment to realize that we're not at camp. In fact…I'm not entirely sure where we are. I look around and all I see are fields of rocky debris, the occasional scraggly plant, and snow. Lots and lots of snow. "Where are we?"

  "On the side of some mountain." He shrugs. "I ran for a while before stopping. I'm not sure it has a name here."

  I get to my feet, feeling wobbly like a newborn kitten. Jeez, I'm tired. I'd like nothing more than to curl up in blankets, but there aren't any. "Where did everyone go? Did they leave us behind?" The thought fills me with panic and I reach out for him. "Oh my god, Ashtar, they left us? Why did they leave us? Is it because I'm a healer?" My newfound excitement at my powers turns to crushing disappointment in an instant.

  Do they not want a second healer because they have one already? Surely there's room for two.

  He shakes his head, pulling me against him. "They did not leave you behind, my fires. I took you and left."

  "Took me and left?" I echo. "I don't understand. Why would we leave?"

  His jaw clenches and his eyes flick dark, a sign that he's angry. "They let you hurt yourself trying to heal another. I will not allow that."

  Oh. I mean, that's sweet, but I'm not sure why he's overreacting like this. "Ashtar, it's all right. I just healed him. Maybe I did too much and that's why I needed a nap, but there's no reason to freak out."

  "A nap?" He looks at me incredulously and his arms tighten around me. "You have been asleep for two days straight."

  "I…have?" I blink at him, not sure I'm hearing right. "Two days?"

  "Yes." His nostrils flare and he looks miserable. He goes stiff for a moment, as if struggling with something, and then pulls me against him, burying one clawed hand in my hair and his face against my neck. "You have been utterly silent for two days. Even your khui did not respond to mine. I wasn't sure if I had lost you."

  "Oh." Suddenly I feel terribly guilty. It feels like I took a nap, nothing more…but it explains why I feel so wobbly. "Oh, Ashtar, I'm so sorry you've been worried. I didn't know. But I promise I'm all right." I slide my hands up and down his back, and my cootie begins to purr. "See? Everything's fine."

  Actually, everything's more than fine. Now that my cootie's awake, I'm feeling extremely…aroused. It's like it's known that I've been asleep for two days and is making up for lost time. Whatever it is, it's overwhelming. The throb between my legs returns full force, and my nipples are tight against my tunic. I cling to Ashtar, fully aware of how my body is reacting. Right now, dragging him into our tent and exploring his naked body seems like a really great idea…

  Except there's no tent.

  There's no nothing except the mountainside. I'm not even weari
ng shoes, and my toes curl up as I realize just how cold it is. "Can we find shelter?"

  "Why?" He looks at me curiously. "Is something wrong?"

  "It's cold?"

  His eyes flare deep gold and he grins at me, sliding his arms around my waist. "Then it is a good thing you have a mate that will keep you warm."

  "It's also rocky. And high. Really high. And windy. And did I mention cold?"

  Ashtar sighs and presses his forehead to mine. "You did mention such things, yes."

  "Can we just rejoin the others already?" They must be worried about us. Not only that, but they must have a million questions about Ashtar and his dragon form. Heck, I'm still not entirely sure it's registered in my mind. I don't know if I've processed that I have a mate, much less the fact that he can turn into a hulking creature of legend.

  "Rejoin the others?" He snorts derisively. "No." Ashtar slides one hand up my back, and I can feel his warmth even through my tunic. "You have me. That is all you will need. I will keep you warm. I will feed you."

  I push at his grip, because I'm not sure I like what he's saying. "What do you mean, you're all I need? Ashtar, the others are going to worry about us—"

  "Let them worry. They let you hurt yourself." His jaw clenches and he gives me a mutinous look.

  "No they didn't. I chose to do that."

  "And they let you." He's implacable on this point.

  Does he assume I'm not capable of thinking for myself? I push lightly at his shoulder. "I'm my own person. And now it seems I'm a healer. They need me."

  "No, they don't. You are my mate. Mine." His eyes flare with black and he rumbles low, this time not his khui but a growl of anger.

  For some reason, instead of being scared, I'm just irritated. I cross my arms over my chest. "So what I want doesn't matter at all, it seems? Good to know where I stand in this relationship." I turn away from him and sit down on the rocky shale, sliding a few inches on my butt before coming to a stop.

  "What are you doing?" he demands.

  "Nothing, clearly." I raise my knees and rest my crossed arms on them. "Please, go on thinking for me, Ashtar. You're doing a great job of it right now."

  He's silent. I can practically hear the frowns he's lobbing at the back of my head. I don't care. I'm tired (despite sleeping for two days) and I'm cold and there's no place comfortable for me to sit, much less lie down. We don't have any shelter. I guess this is all right for a dragon, but for a human who's still not used to roughing it, this sucks and sucks hard.

  It's not that I want to be around the others instead of him. It's that he isn't giving me a choice. And I'm not a fan of roughing it, especially not like this. There's no food, no water, no shelter, and I don't know how to take care of myself on this planet. If he leaves me, I'm helpless.

  And I'm mad at him for putting me in this situation.

  Silence hovers between us for a long, long time. "I am not apologizing," Ashtar says finally, his tone indignant.

  I shrug one shoulder. "That's fine."

  He makes a frustrated sound. "I am protecting you!"

  "From the other humans? Yes, they're so scary." I continue to stare mutinously ahead. "And they get a warm dinner and a place to sleep out of the wind and I get the side of a mountain with a naked man." I glance over, and my cootie starts up despite my anger, because he really, really is naked.

  "I am not backing down on this," Ashtar snarls. "They let you hurt yourself! I will not stand for that! No one demands anything of my mate! No one tells us to stay! If we are free, then we are free! If they don't like it, then they will just have to deal with it!"

  I want to point out to him that he might be free, but I'm still at his mercy. I want to throw out the whole “he chose for me and does that make me his slave” thing, but that feels like too low a blow for even me. So I just keep staring ahead at the horizon. It's bleak and gray with winter. The clouds are thick today, hiding the two tiny suns from view, which means it's also cold and blustery. Ahead of us, the horizon is white and white and more white with the endless snow. I see nothing hospitable, and that just crushes my spirit a little more.

  This planet is awful, and now I don't even have a tent or a fire.

  With a sound of frustration, Ashtar storms to my side, sending rocks skittering down the side of the hill. "You are being impossible, Veronica."

  "So are you."

  He growls low again. "Tell me what you want from me and I will make it happen. I want you to be happy."

  "Then take me back." I know I'm not being ultra-reasonable, but he's not either.

  "And let you harm yourself healing one of them again? No. You will stay here with me, where you are safe."

  Part of me understands why he's angry. He's still freaked out, and I get that. It hasn't quite sunk in to me yet that I've lost two days, but I can only imagine what he felt like waiting for me to wake up. It's the only reason I haven't lost my shit on him. I feel like I'm about to cry, but I take a few deep, calming breaths. I can do this. It's going to be all right. We'll figure it out. This is temporary.

  It has to be temporary.

  But right now, there is no helping the fact that he's taken me from one rough situation and brought me to an even rougher one. I stare morosely at the side of the mountain. "Is this where we're staying tonight?"

  He pauses, as if startled that I'm not continuing the fight. "You wish to move?"

  I rub a hand on my forehead. My head's throbbing and I'm thirsty as heck. And, most terrible of all, I have to pee. The bleak landscape around me offers no relief for any of those things. "I would prefer it, yeah. I feel like I'm going to fall down the side of this mountain." I try to get to my feet, and the rocks slide out from under me, and I thump down on my backside once more. "If you don't want to go back to the others, we need shelter. Food. Privacy of some kind." I look up at him. "Please."

  His jaw clenches, and then he storms away a few feet. I try to stand up, terrified that he's leaving, and crash back down again. I can't keep my footing. This just makes him angrier, and he lets out a huff of breath before transforming back to his dragon form.

  The surge of his scaly body into the air forces a terrified cry from my lungs. I flinch backward, raising a hand in the air as if that'll protect me. It's instinct, because this is Ashtar. Of course he won't hurt me. Doesn't mean I'm not freaked out, though.

  The dragon growls, as if outraged by my fear, and then stalks forward two steps, spilling shale and pebbles down the side of the mountain. I slip too, skidding a few feet and cutting up my hands on the loose rock. My skin tingles and I know it won't be there when I check it, but I'm too busy staring at the enormous dragon looming over me.

  Does he…think like a human at all when he turns dragon? Or is he more animal than man? I raise a hand toward his snout. "Nice draggie," I whisper. "Please don't eat me, okay? I'm your mate, remember?"

  He snorts in derision, blowing a whuff of hot air over my hair, and then one gigantic clawed hand snags me from my seat atop the rock pile. I half-expect him to take off into the air, but instead, he pulls me close to his scaly chest and begins to move down the side of the mountain on all fours.

  Well, threes. He's holding me tight with the other.

  As he presses me against his chest, I can hear the very, very faint sound of his cootie deep inside his breast, and my own responds to it. The terror clenching through me slides away. This is still my Ashtar, no matter what form he takes. He won't hurt me. We might be pissy at each other in this moment, but all we've got on this planet is each other. That counts. And when he nuzzles me before moving down the side of the cliff, I still feel loved and cared for despite this.

  It's a strange sort of feeling, but not an unwelcome one.

  15

  ASHTAR

  I wish my wings were not clipped so I could fly.

  I've been frustrated with my battle form in the past, but never so deeply as I am right now, as I move over the landscape, my mate jarred with every jostling step, sno
w blowing into her face and mine. The weather has only gotten worse as the afternoon deepens, and it makes my mood foul. If I could fly, I could soar high above the hills and valleys that cover the rough landscape and see the best place to take my mate. Shelter would be easy to find. As it is, we are confined to the ground and I must plow through the snow, hunting for a safe space to take her.

  As it is, I am low on options. And after scaling another round of cliffs only to find more rock below, I am out of patience. I follow scents, instead. I lift my head to the wind, painfully aware of the shivering of my mate huddled against my breast, and follow the scent. It is not a good scent, but it is a strong one. The smell of wet, dirty fur carries on the wind and it will either be one very large, nasty creature, or several small ones. Either way, if it has a home, I mean to take it for my mate.

  The scent-trail leads me down into an icy crevasse and to a trail. The trail itself is littered with fecal matter and old urine, and my senses feel assaulted by the stench of whatever it is living here. But down in this icy gorge, the wind is less, and Veronica's shivering decreases.

  I'll just have to live with the stink.

  A creature appears at the edge of my vision—taller than a human, but thinner. Matted whitish-yellow fur covers it, and it howls at the sight of me, then disappears into a burrow. Aha. I lift my head to scent for other predators, and when I smell none, I gently set my Veronica down on an icy ledge a fair distance from the ground.

  "No, wait, Ashtar! Don't leave me here," she pleads, and her terror tears at my chest. Again, I am torn with frustration and indecision. It was my idea to bring her here, but I did not think of how I would care for her. While she slept, I did not need to hunt. While she slept, I did not have to worry about sheltering her because my drakoni form would be everything she needed. But there is no food or water on the cliffs, and I cannot talk to her like this. My wild stabs at mental communication meet with nothing.