Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
I watch, nervous, as Zohr moves to the front of the bookstore. He pushes through the glass doors and then immediately changes to dragon-form, his tail moving back and forth with clear agitation. I wince as it slams against the dirty glass and leaves cracks. I feel woefully inadequate right about now.
The dragon soars overhead again, and I watch, breathless, as Zohr moves forward along the ground, raising his head and trumpeting a warning call. I hate the sight of his crumpled wings folded against his back. They still feel like my fault. His thoughts blast out again, another even stronger round of the aversion/mental-repellent, and I shudder. It makes me want to leave. I don’t see how she won’t. I wait for her to land, or to fly off, but her shadow just circles overhead.
HIDE.
The thought roars through my mind even as Zohr trumpets furiously outside.
There’s no time to think; I do as he says. There’s a fallen bookshelf leaning against another a short sprint away, and I dive into the cubbyhole it makes.
I manage to squeeze my body under it a brief moment before the roof collapses.
25
ZOHR
The crazed red female attacks the roof of the building that houses my mate. Her claws scrabble against the roof, and she roars with frustration as she pries it open.
I call out another trumpeted threat, but she ignores it. She will not look at me. She ignores my insistent warnings for her to leave my nest. This makes no sense. Surely she can smell my mate, can scent that the human has taken my fires. There is no need for her to approach. There is nothing here for her. I shove another mental warning toward her.
She ignores it and changes her mental call. It is not an acknowledgment of my warning, but a blank request to connect minds. Over and over she sends it, wanting to touch thoughts with me. I Ignore it, though it goes against my instincts to do so. If she is in her mind enough to send out a greeting, why does she ignore me?
When the female peels back more of the roof with furious claws, I send another blast of warning and slam my tail against the building in frustration.
The female dragon looks up, hissing, and I realize her eyes are not the black of deep emotion, of crazed hunger. They are not the gold of calm, either.
They are a strange, thick gray.
I have seen that strange gray before. Azar.
When she lowers her head again and renews her efforts to claw at the roof, I realize that it is not me she is after.
She wants my Emma. My mate.
HIDE, I warn my mate, even as I launch myself against the building. I must get to the female. I have to stop her before she can endanger Emma.
I get a flash of Emma’s thoughts, and she acts quickly. I do, too. I dig my claws into the side of the building and begin to climb. My wings extend automatically, but they feel weak and will not support my weight. I will have to use my limbs to go after her, to fight on the ground instead of the air. But if she flies, I will not be able to go after her.
I must disable her wings, then. The thought sits ill with me, but when the female renews her attacks on the building that my Emma hides in, I have no choice.
I will protect my mate.
What’s happening? Emma asks. How can I help?
My mate is brave. The female is coming after you. Azar has taken her mind. Stay hidden!
I will, but she’s shaking the building, Zohr. Emma’s thoughts are worried. And I’m currently hiding in a mountain of paper. If she uses fire…
Terror courses through me, and I redouble my efforts to climb to the top of the building. I will stop her, I vow. Stay out of sight.
Don’t have to tell me twice! Emma agrees. I sense from the scatter of images in her thoughts that she’s crawling around on the floor, knife in hand, looking for a better hiding spot.
I haul myself over the edge of the building, my crumpled wings flapping furiously in useless frustration. I hate this. I hate how slow I am, how my claws dig into the stone, slowing me down as the stone crumbles under my feet. In the past, I would have flown to the female’s side and torn her head off in the blink of an eye. Now I am slow. Encumbered. I do not like it.
Most of all, I hate that it endangers my mate. Azar will pay for this, too.
I make it to the top and thump onto the surface of the roof, issuing a warning cry. She has one last chance to get away from my mate.