Page 31 of Fence

“I’m not a dragon person. I’m a dragon shifter.”

“Right, right. Dragon shifter.” Her voice sounded far away as she stared at some middle space between us.

Where was she? Anywhere but in the same flat as me. Maybe anywhere but in her body, where nothing made sense anymore.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” She raised her head, eyes burning, sparkling with unshed tears. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Excuse me? I was only trying to—”

“I know what you were trying to do. You were trying to apologize for being who you are.” She stood up straight, chin raised in defiance. “Why don’t you try apologizing for lying to me? How about that? Or for using me, which I now know for sure you were doing? I got too close to the truth about you, didn’t I? And that cave!” She smacked her forehead with one palm. “The clan was still there, weren’t they? Your family. But they left in a hurry. And you didn’t want me going back there to find out anything else.”

“Ciera.”

“No, please. Don’t lie anymore. I’m right, aren’t I? All this, it was all a matter of finding out what I knew. Right?”

I wanted more than anything I had ever wanted in my long, long life to tell her how wrong she was. That I cared for her, nothing more. That there had never been anything but an interest in her. Because right now, I didn’t care nearly as much about what she knew as I did about how she felt. I didn’t care about the danger she posed the clan nearly as much as I did about holding her, begging her forgiveness, promising her anything under the sun as long as she was happy and safe.

“At first,” I admitted.

“At first?” She burst out laughing again. “Oh, come on, Fence. At first is, like, less than thirty-six hours ago. When we met. We haven’t known each other long enough for there to be an at first.”

“That’s your perception.”

“Don’t gaslight me,” she warned. “Don’t tell me I’m wrong when facts are facts.”

“Our facts are different. We know things you don’t know. For instance, it’s a fact that I’ve lived as long as I have, whereas to you, that’s an impossibility. It’s a fact that a human would’ve needed stitches in their hand if they had a wound like the one I suffered earlier. I’ve already healed.”

She tilted her head to the side. “So, time moves more slowly for you, but more quickly at the same time? Is a day-and-a-half, like, three months on dragon time?”

I bristled at her dismissive tone. “When I know something, I know it. And I know you’re much more than just an obstacle to be pushed aside or placated with a night on the town.”

“Now you know that? Now that I’m around thirty seconds away from kicking you out of my apartment?”

“Don’t do that. Please.” I went to her before taking the time to think twice. “Don’t send me away now.”

“Don’t touch me. I told you not to come near.” I took her by the wrists when she lifted her hands in attack, slapping at my chest. She was roughly as effectual as a kitten trying to beat up a mountain lion. I let her take out her aggression, however, knowing she needed to—and when she had exhausted herself, I let her collapse against me.

“I hate you,” she sobbed, shaking in my arms.

“I know.” Just then, for the first time ever, I hated myself right along with her.

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