Fire in His Blood(24)

 

This makes me even more furious. No matter what I do, my mate is terrified. She will never approach my gift of food now. I am further away from winning her confidence than ever before. Black rage clouds my eyes, and my breath quickens with fury.

 

Darknesshungerkillangerfrustrationragedarkdarkdarkragehungerfrenzyragedarknessviolencekilldestroy

 

Clau-dah, I remind myself. I think of her green eyes. Her cloud of red hair.

 

Slowly, the burning anger fades from my mind. I must be calm. I must not give up. Not if I wish to claim my mate. Using my claws, I rip a haunch off of the kill and approach my mate. I drop it in front of her as an offering, and wait.

 

 

 

 

 

8

 

 

 

 

 

CLAUDIA

 

 

I eye the bloody goat leg that's been plopped in front of me with revulsion. The dragon's hovering nearby, his gaze intent on me. I don't know what's more startling  –  that he just flashed back into dragon form in the blink of an eye or that he's offering me a carcass.

 

It's clear he wants me to eat it. I figured as much the moment he tore a big, gushy bite out of the liver and then offered it to me, blood running down his chin.

 

But as hungry as I am, I'm not a fan of raw meat.

 

Meat's a rarity most times now. In the After, it's much wiser to keep a cow alive for milk, or chickens for eggs, instead of meat. Not that I get eggs or milk, either. There are a few farms on the edges of Fort Dallas, but the herds are small so they can be easily protected when the dragons rain down fire, and meat is at a premium … unless it's rat or squirrel. I've eaten my fair share of those in the last few years.

 

Goat is something new. And really, it's big and juicy and I can eat my fill. I haven't eaten a real meal in days, and maybe that's why I'm considering that big hunk of raw meat.

 

It's good that he's trying to feed me, I think. That means he doesn't want to eat me. It'd take a long time to fatten me enough to make more than a mouthful for a dragon. My fear ebbs a little. Fuck me, yes. Eat me, no.

 

 

 

        

          

        

         

 

Even that, I'm wondering about.

 

It's clear he's attracted to me-thanks to the fact that he has no pants-but he stops every time I say no. That makes him better than, oh, most of the men in Fort Dallas. I slowly uncurl from my protective crouch and eye the dragon that hovers nearby, waiting. He watches me like a hawk, but his eyes are gold-on-gold. That's a good sign.

 

He leans in and noses the animal leg toward me.

 

Definitely wants to feed me.

 

Why me, though? Why me out of all the humans that have been killed by dragons after all this time? What makes me special? What's so different that he's not immediately killing me but wants to feed me instead?

 

I'm hungry, too. Really hungry. Before my arrest, we'd been out of money and out of food. I'd sold what I could to buy food for Amy, but in the end, I'd only been able to buy a few stale protein bars from a trader in exchange for the last of the fuel for our small lantern. I'd given them to Amy and scavenged a few meals of my own by doing odd jobs for Fort Dallas's only bar. I'd had offers from Blowjob Becky to join her group of whores, since that's the only place a girl can get steady employment. I'd declined at the time, but after a few days of hunger, it was starting to look like an option.

 

Then, of course, I'd gotten arrested.

 

In all reality, jail wasn't so bad. They fed me more often than I fed myself-once a day. If I hadn't been so worried about Amy, I'd have probably enjoyed those bowls of oatmeal more. Thinking about them now makes me hungry.

 

I'm always hungry.

 

He nudges the goat leg in front of me again, and I decide we need to chat before I go 'raw' and try to eat this bloody thing. "Kael," I say softly. "Can we talk?"

 

The dragon's ears prick, and his enormous head zooms in so close that I gasp and fall backward, startled. He only waits, though, big golden pupils alert.

 

I point at the goat leg. "I'll eat that, but not raw."

 

He studies me, then studies the goat leg. Then he looks back to me, waiting.

 

All right, we're getting nowhere fast. "I wish you'd change back," I mutter to myself. For some reason, it feels easier to have a conversation with him when his eyeball's not the size of a tire and staring right into my face. "This thing's raw, and it's got goat hide on it. I need it cooked."

 

No response. The great eyes blink, waiting.

 

Okay. This isn't working. I chew on my lip, thinking, then try another tactic. I glance over at the dragon to make sure he's not going to spring on me and then reach for the goat leg and tug it toward me.