14

RAST
My mate fallsinto an exhausted slumber at my side. The fever that comes with fires consumes her, and her eyelids flutter even as she sleeps. I watch her, unable to tear my gaze away. She is so perfect, so fragile. I have never felt such contentment as I have just gazing upon her. She has saved me.
Even this terrible world, which I have hated for so long, does not seem as bad now that she is in it.
I brush my fingertips along her shoulder and down her arm, because I cannot stop touching her. It is still hard to believe that she is here and she is mine after so long. Even as I fill my thoughts with Amy, other things flood in.
Memories.
Now that the fires that have consumed my mind for so long are nothing but smoke, I am beginning to remember other things. Not all at once, but thinking of what I told her earlier has jarred a few fragments loose.
I remember Salorians. The ominous elite of my people. I remember them in their long robes and their tall, austere buildings filled with gardens and sculptures. I remember the feasts they would throw, when rich, luscious scents would pour out of the city walls even as my people struggled for food. I remember how it felt to be selected from the ranks of soldiers and made into a general. It gave me a position of authority…even though I hated who I served. I was important. I was powerful. I could use my title and my skills to leverage privileges for my people, more food for my family.
None of those things came to pass, though. Instead of saving my family, they enslaved them and betrayed me. I think of my brother, Hitaar. I remember him, his kind expression and laughing eyes. I remember he loved music and did not like fighting, even in battle-form. I remember his gentle smile.
I remember the Salorians crushing his mind like an eggshell and turning him into a soldier. I remember desperately using my title, my privileges, anything to try and free my brother from his conscription. To send him back to our poor village out in the sands, where he might have a chance at a happy life, free from the poison of Salorian mind control and their endless wars.
They laughed at me.
My hands curl, my shorn claws desperate to latch on to something and destroy it at the memory. At Hitaar's violent death in the first battle he went into, unable to resist the mind-numbing orders of his Salorian leader.
What good is being a general if you lead your people to slaughter?
Next to me, Amy whimpers in her sleep, and I lean over her, brushing her sweaty hair back from her pale face. My mate. The ultimate prize. I remember how the Salorians held the promise of a mate back from us. That we could serve our time and then return to the mating lands to fly and challenge worthy females. I remember that all males fought for that honor.
I do not know of a single one of my friends that ever got that chance. I struggle to think of faces, of names that served well enough to receive such an honor, but I recall nothing.
I wonder if the Salorians stripped my mind of that as well.
Frustration and rage swell inside my mind. The more that I remember, the angrier I am. This world is bad, with its foul smells and its strange atmosphere that brings me so easily to rage. But I think of my homeland, and I want to destroy every Salorian I ever see. I want to crush them beneath my claws and rip their heads off and make them suffer. I want them to grovel and sweat and serve like slaves like we drakoni did.
I want them humiliated.
I want vengeance for Hitaar.
All of these thoughts flood back in as every moment passes, and I feel the rage slipping back in through the cracks, ready to consume me again. I lean closer to my mate, breathe in her scent that even now mingles with my own.
That world is my past. She is my future.
I can rage against the unfairness of my past, the treatment of my people, my brother's murder. I can let it consume me, or I can focus on this new world that I have come to. I think of the Rift, and it is like a pulsing wound in my mind with its presence. There is no way I can return to my homeworld through that tear in the heavens. Like it or not, my place is here now, in this world.
At Amy's side.
I can make a new life with her. I can even be happy, I think, with her to focus my thoughts and her lovely body to claim. We can breed half-drakoni young and set ourselves a nest and live our lives quietly. It sounds pleasant, I think.
Hitaar would have loved such a life.
Grief makes my throat close, and I lean down against my mate, hold her close. I cannot change the past, I remind myself. The Salorians are on the other side of the Rift and I am here. I must forget them. My need for vengeance does not matter when there is no one to avenge myself upon.
Amy is the only thing that matters now. I nuzzle her skin and wait for her to awaken, for her body to accustom itself to my fires. Once she returns to me, we can begin our life together.
We can start anew.
It will be enough. It has to be.

I drowsenext to my mate, keeping my senses alert for interlopers that might come into my territory. This far from the human nests, it is quiet in the skies, and nothing brushes against my mind. It is almost peaceful to be alone like this, without the buzz of other drakoni thoughts at the edges of my consciousness, but it is also…different. When I was lost in the mind-fires, it was easier, I think. Now that I have returned to myself, everything feels strange. Perhaps it is just that this human world is strange and I will eventually grow used to it.
I sense her rousing, and remain still, curious to watch her and see her reaction. I can feel her mind open to me, like a flower. She does not know how to keep any of her thoughts private yet, and they flood into my head. There is a flurry of confusion and wonder, of muscle aches and fever, and then an overwhelming wave of shy pleasure as she realizes I am still pressed against her. I revel in that, drinking it in.
She thinks for a moment and then slowly slides out of my grip and then out of bed. She glances down at me to see if I am sleeping, and so I keep my eyes closed, feigning it for a moment longer. Her mind stabs at mine, clumsy, but there is no question there so I do not respond. After a breath’s time, she turns and heads for the water-box where she challenged me.
Odd.
Her thoughts are a chaotic flurry. There are notes of pleasure mixed in with the awkwardness, and every time she thinks of me, her thoughts grow warm. She thinks of my possessiveness and I can feel her shiver. Images of others—a sister with red hair, another dragon, other females and their dragons—float through her head, and then I feel her overwhelming sadness and confusion. She turns on the water and steps under it, shivering at the chill of the rain as it patters on her skin.
More sad thoughts slide through her mind and I get up to confront her. I do not like her sadness. If I must chase it away with repeated matings, then I will do so. After all, if she is climbing into the water-box, does that not mean she wishes to mate again? My cock rises in response to that. How lusty she is, how giving. It is a welcome surprise. I knew having a mate would be enjoyable, but I did not realize the depths I would feel for her so quickly.
I open the door and step into the room.
Amy turns and gasps, nearly dropping the slippery bar in her hands as she squeezes it. “Oh my god, you scared me!”
How? I am in your mind.
She covers her breasts and pussy with her hands, and a wave of flustered emotion enters my head. “I…I thought you were sleeping.” She glances down at my cock, which is already erect with need for her, and I can feel the arousal that threads through her mind in response.
Ah, my mate. She is perfect. You are in the mating box, so I thought I would join you.
“Mating…box?” she echoes, and her cheeks turn red with embarrassment. “This is for showering, not mating.”
We mated in it,I reason with her even as I move to her side. I slip an arm around her waist, careful to hold her against me so she does not lose her balance with her bad leg. Is it not a mating box then?
“I guess it can be.” She pretends to pay no attention to me and makes lather in her hands, then rubs them on her arms and stomach. After a moment, she glances over her shoulder at me. “Are you going to watch me bathe?”
Why not? I enjoy the sight of you. I slide behind her and caress her hips. Or do you prefer that I wash you before we mate again?
Again?It stabs through her mind with surprise. “You want to mate again?”
I chuckle at her astonished reaction. I plan on mating with you repeatedly for many, many years to come. So yes, we will mate again. I lean in and press my mouth to her shoulder. And again. I lick her skin lightly and then nip it with my fangs. And again.
Her arousal scent begins to perfume the air. “I…I’m sticky. I should clean up first.”
Then clean,I tell her. I can wait.
Her flustered thoughts dance through my head, and it is a joy to pick through them. I love how open and unshielded she is. I can feel her pleasure as I press my body against hers, and I also feel the aching soreness between her thighs as she washes herself there. Ah. I forget that she is so new to mating, and I have been a very enthusiastic partner. I nuzzle her wet hair. You are sore. I will wait for your cunt to feel better. Perhaps I will just lick it to watch you scream, instead.
Heat flushes through her body and she whimpers. “Are all dragons this forward?”
With their mates? Undoubtedly. I take the bar of soap from her hands and lather it against my palms as I watched her do, then clean her skin for her, taking my time to rub over her breasts and stomach. Her nipples are hard little points as I touch her, and her breath hitches with every slick caress. This is such a pleasure, and I feel myself rumbling in response to simply holding her like this. I did not realize having a mate would bring such intense joy so quickly. I thought it would be gradual, like the rise of the sun over the horizon, but this is more like an explosion in my spirit, thundering through me and growing more powerful by the moment. My mate, I tell her as I press my face against her head, rubbing against her. How perfect you are.
Her thoughts fill with adoration and she leans back against me. “I’m sorry if I woke you,” she tells me shyly.
You did not. I have been waiting for you. My fires have taken a lot out of you.
“Is that why I feel so feverish and weak?”
Yes. It will subside as your body adjusts.I move a slippery hand to her stomach and caress it. And eventually you will carry my young. But there is time for that yet.
It is the wrong thing to say, because a memory of another female—the red-haired sister—flashes through her mind and the sadness returns. “Oh,” is all she says, but there are so many emotions in her head.
You do not want to be with me?
It is unthinkable. Just like that, my mood goes from calm to blistering. The very thought makes my spirit rage and howl with pain. The fires, always licking at the edges of my mind, threaten to return.
“That’s not it at all,” she whispers even as I cup her breasts in my hands and tease the slick, soapy tips. She sighs. “I just know my sister will be missing me. She’s going to worry.”
I do not understand. Did you not say that you left your skin for me to find?I send her a mental image of the bit of fabric I keep around my wrist, always.
“My panties? I did,” she admits, then sighs and leans back against me. “I just…didn’t think things through. I’ve been lost in fantasies of my own making. I didn’t think what would happen once I called a dragon. I just knew I was lonely and that if you found me, you’d love me.” Amy glances up at me, an apologetic smile on her face. “Does that seem silly?”
No,I tell her. I want to press my mouth to hers and capture her tongue once again. I want to taste her all over…but I need her to want that, too. A mate is the greatest joy one can have. I have been searching for you, as well. I gaze down at her. Do you regret that I found you? That I won your challenge?
Her brow furrows and there is a flash of confusion in her mind at my “challenge” comment. She does not see it as a challenge at all, which is curious. “Regret you? Never. You’re wonderful.” She smiles shyly up at me. “I still can’t believe you want me.”
How can she think that? She is perfect in all ways. Her scent is the most glorious thing I have ever had the pleasure of experiencing. I love her sweetness, her gentle nature. It is a perfect contrast to my angry, bloodthirsty nature. Then you will stay with me.
“Of course.” She reaches up and caresses my jaw. “I just miss my sister and want her to know I’m happy and safe.” Memories flash through her mind, and as they do, I see other golden-skinned drakoni males there. I growl low. It does not matter that she is mine and the others are mated. I know her request is a simple, logical one. She wishes to see family, that is all. But this is all too new and I am too territorial. Just the thought of bringing her in range of those males so they can breathe in her scent is enough to make my mind blister.
My arms tighten around her protectively and I hold her tight against me. I am not a good male, my Amy.
“What are you talking about, Rast? You’re wonderful.” Her voice has a hint of shyness as she says my name, but I can feel the pleasure she does when she says it, and it makes my cock ache. Was ever a male so lucky?
I am possessive. The thought of taking you near other males—even mated ones—makes me want to attack them.I clutch her tightly to me. Perhaps that will go away in time, but for now, I…cannot take you home. You are mine and mine alone.
I feel her sadness ripple through her and it just frustrates me even more. I hold her to my chest as close as I can, sliding a hand between her thighs to cup her cunt, my possessive nature taking over. I cannot be the male she wants me to be and it makes my emotions even higher, my irrational jealousy greater.
But Amy is the greatest treasure I have ever had. And I have spent a lifetime having the things I value taken away from me. My family—by choice—when I entered into the hated Salorian army and sought ranking. My brother Hitaar, when he was conscripted. My world, when I was thrust here through the Rift mid-battle.
I cannot lose my Amy. Not to anything or anyone.
I hold her close, burrowing my face into her wet hair. I will take you anywhere in the world you wish to go, my mate, my fires. Anywhere at all. Just…not there. Not yet. Perhaps someday I will be ready, but…not yet.
“It’s all right,” she says softly, reaching up and caressing my cheek. There is a hint of sadness in her thoughts, but understanding, too. “We’ll go someplace else for a while, then. Maybe we can find someplace with better supplies. A nicer view. Maybe the ocean. Sasha always talks about going there and I admit I’d like to see what it looks like in a post-Rift world. If it’s wild and beautiful and empty.”
Then we shall go if it makes you smile,I tell her.
She turns in my arms, facing me, and her hands go to the back of my neck. She looks up at me with her soft, beautiful eyes. “You’re what I wanted, Rast. Never doubt that. As long as you want me, we’ll be together.”
The oceans would dry before I would cease wanting her. The winds would die away and the stars would fall from the sky, and still I would crave my Amy.