Flight of Dragons(18)

Not yet. Never had it been so hard to keep the dragon from raging, but Brycen held onto his iron-clad control. First we get to safety. Then we attack with our clan. We can’t take chances. We have to get back to Stella.

He pushed himself hard, getting to the top of the treeline before fire sliced through his left side. His furious roar shook the nearby trees as he climbed higher into the air. In an instant, more arrows flew, but none of them reached him. Not that it mattered, he’d been hit. It was only a matter of time before he came down again.

Brycen fought the lethargy, keeping his wings flapping hard and himself just out of range for as long as he could until the weight of his body started dragging lower. The land beneath him blurred, and he tried to come down for a soft landing, but his muscles wouldn’t cooperate. Bones crunched, and the ground shook as he crashed through trees and onto the forest floor. Hundreds of birds took flight, squawking at his unexpected landing, but Brycen didn’t hear any of them as all went black.





Chapter 8



Stella stretched and opened her eyes. Her whole body ached, but not the same sweet ache she’d had the previous day after she’d made love with Brycen. No, this was different—unpleasant. Her skin itched, burned even, and her jaw popped in the wrong spot when she tried to yawn. The orange glow of the rising sun told her what she already knew. He hadn’t come back.

When Brycen had left the day before, he’d told her to make herself at home, and she had. Preparing a nice dinner for them both had occupied her for a while. But when it had become apparent he wasn’t going to be home for the meal, she finally gave in and ate her portion, then stuck his in the fridge to eat later.

There was no point in staying in bed. Stella was wide-awake and worse, the dragon inside her was restless. Heat radiated from her, making her skin clammy. Heading into the bathroom, she couldn’t help notice that her legs didn’t move as fluidly as they should. It was as though the joints didn’t quite fit together right. Heart pounding, she turned the faucet to cool then stepped into the shower. All she had to do was keep the dragon happy until Brycen returned. Then they could take care of this once and for all.

“Come on, mate. I need you,” she whispered as the cold water sluiced down her body. She took her time, washing and rinsing her hair, oddly pleased when she smelled more like him after using Brycen’s shampoo. Inside, the dragon settled a little as though that small connection with him pleased her as well.

“When will he be back?” Stella gasped and froze when the soft rumbling voice sifted into her mind. “We need him now.”

Stella waited for a moment, reveling in her dragon’s voice. She’d wished to hear it so many times, but the beast had remained quiet all those years. “I don’t know. I want him back, too,” she finally answered.

The flash of purple under her skin had her heart racing. “He’ll be back. He’ll take care of us. Please, don’t do this,” Stella begged. All she needed was a bit more time. Everything she had ever wanted, a partner, a family, it was all within her grasp. She just had to hang on a little while longer.

She waited for a response, but nothing came. When even the shower’s spray couldn’t keep her comfortable, she toweled herself off and headed back to the bedroom. If the dragon liked Brycen’s smell, she’d surround herself with it. Riffling through his drawers, she found a pair of sweatpants with a drawstring. She’d have to roll them up so she could walk, but it would work. She eyed the soft sweaters in another drawer but dismissed them just as fast. She was already burning up, what she needed was another T-shirt. She found one and slipped it over her head. Too uncomfortable in her skin, Stella didn’t bother with her underwear.

She spent the next hour and a half pacing all over the house from one room to the other. She paused here and there to touch his things. There wasn’t a lot there. But when she found something that was a little more personal, like the half read book he had left on the coffee table, she slid her fingers over it. Or clutched his pillow to her chest and took his scent into her lungs.

Time was irrelevant, but she couldn’t help glaring at each clock as she walked past. Where the hell is he? Her discomfort grew with each passing minute until she couldn’t stand the pacing anymore. Something wasn’t right. If he could be there with her, he would. But that didn’t stop her irritation from climbing or lessen her need for movement. The energy pulsing in her grew hotter, desperate, and she had no idea what to do to, or how to release it.

She had to get out of there. Stella had never been claustrophobic, but she had to get outside, somewhere with a big, open space. Every room in the house was too small.