Page 15 of Storm of Blood and Shadow

“I don’t like to talk about it.”

“Well, you woke me up.” She yawns and tucks one arm beneath her head. “The least you can do is lull me back to sleep with that deep voice of yours.”

I rumble and coil myself more closely around her. “It’s more likely that after I tell you, you’ll be too scared to sleep here, with me.”

“This is far safer than other places I’ve slept, trust me.”

I champ my jaws and thrash my tail restlessly, unsettled by her words. “Have you been hurt or betrayed many times?”

“Yes.” One word, quietly spoken, strength and sorrow in her tone.

In my life I’ve known many strong, clever dragons whom I admired greatly. But never have I encountered someone like this, whose fragile form contains such power of spirit. I can practically taste the scars on her heart, and yet it beats strong and sure, steadier than mine, I swear.

I have already chosen her. Perhaps I should trust her as well.

“I’ve spoken with many other dragons, and none have described their magic the way mine feels,” I tell her. “Their flames, frost-fire, water magic, or other intrinsic abilities are a natural expression of themselves. My void magic is an enemy I carry inside me, a vast emptiness crawling along the edges of my soul, a blistering threat. I must restrain it at all times lest it burst out of me and swallow everything I love.”

“Yet you use it,” she says. “You used it in battle, and you used it today, on the men who were hurting me. You seemed so precise with it.”

“I’ve learned to control it… most of the time.”

“How does it feel when you use it?”

I hesitate, trying to find the right words. “I carve out bubbles of the void from within myself—orbs that are the right size for the task. Then I encase them in lightning and direct them from my throat like a bolt from a crossbow. Sometimes, when I feel a great surge of emotion, some of the void separates itself from the rest and lurches out of me.”

“Like a burp,” she says.

“A burp?”

“Oh god, don’t make me demonstrate.” She laughs a little. “As long as you don’t feel any more panic-burps coming on, I’m going to try to get a little more sleep. I need to be well-rested if I’m going to kill you and escape.”

“Naturally,” I reply. “I have no doubt you’ll devise the perfect method for ending my life.”

I dream again, this time of mating her. I’ve never fucked anything, but I’ve seen animals coupling, and though my rational mind knows my body isn’t compatible with the girl’s, my subconscious alters reality, permitting me to rut deep inside her. My seed gushes into her body, a slow, pumping release, until she is filled and swollen with it.

Movement against my neck jerks me out of the dream, back to reality. Warm sunshine filters through the green trees, giving the grassy hollow a verdant luminosity, an emerald haze. I can feel the golden heat on the edges of my wings.

My captive is lying against me, her body draped partly over my neck. I can feel the pressure of her arms and chest against my scales. She’s stirring, realizing how close she crept to me in the night. She pushes herself up and moves away.

I lift my head, surveying her. Her cheeks grow pink and she pushes back her red hair, which must have come out of its braid during the night. Unbound, it’s as glorious as I imagined.

My cock pulses, and I realize abruptly that it’s hard, hot, and partly extruded from my genital slit.

The girl follows my gaze and notices the same thing.

“Holy fuck,” she whispers.

I launch myself upright and snarl at her so viciously she blanches and backs away. Pinning my wings tightly to my back, I bound off into the trees.

I can’t go far, because even with my wings folded, trying to get through a forest is not easy for a beast of my size.

From the clearing, the girl calls, “You shouldn’t leave me alone.”

I snarl again.

“You’re going to make me come after you, aren’t you?” she groans. “Fuck you, dragon.”

I’m not ready to face her, so I remain among the trees, my claws sunk into the turf while I breathe deeply and try to think about anything except her body… which means all I can picture is her naked form.

---