Fire in His Blood

At least, I think that is how it was. My memories are a jumble, no longer coherent in this strange new land where everything triggers madness. I cannot tell my dreams from reality. Not anymore.

I hate it here, hate everything about it. The strange, ugly metal buildings, the stench of the skies. The two-legged ones that swarm over everything and attack with pellets of fire. I hate all of it, and the urge to destroy and conquer writhes like a snake in my gut. Even now, just thinking about it makes me alert with the hunger to attack, to switch back to four-legged battle form and wreak havoc.

Except…my female is right here.

I turn to look at her again. Soft. Vulnerable. Fragile. Her hands swipe at her cheeks and the curious wetness there. Her hair is a glossy tangle around her head, the beautiful mating red that my kind loves so very much. Her big green eyes gaze at me with defiance, even as she inches backward.

It makes me smile. She is trying to be brave.

I do not blame her for her fear. It is the rage. It has consumed me just like it has consumed all of my people, ever since the heavens opened up and pulled us through to this strange, awful place. Knowing she is here feels like an anchor to sanity. With a mate, the rage will dissipate. When I mate her, our minds will link, and the shining star of her in the black void of my thoughts will keep me sane forever.

I hunger for that, almost as much as I hunger for her. I reach down to stroke my aching cock, thinking of Clau-dah under me. The sensation is incredible, and I growl low in my throat. I’ve been in battle form too long, and this is a pleasure only for the two-legged form. It has been far too long since I touched a female, and I ache to make Clau-dah mine, to feel her small hand upon me like this.

Clau-dah gives a small, muffled noise of alarm.

I immediately drop my hand from my cock. I want to tell her that she is safe. That I will never touch her while she is frightened of me. That she is my mate, and I wish nothing more than to care for her and protect her from this harsh, awful world I have been exiled to.

But I cannot speak to her, not yet. Her words are strange ones, and we have no mind-link yet. We will not until we mate. Until then, I must be patient and speak the few words of her language that I know. “Clau-dah, no,” I reassure her. “No.” I will not touch you until you hunger for me as much as I hunger for you.

She doesn’t understand what I am saying to her. Her expression is still full of defiance masking her fear. She was frightened of my gift of fresh meat, too. Clau-dah was so frightened she did not take her battle form. Perhaps the humans here do not have one. That could explain why they die so easily and frighten all the time. If I had no battle form, I would look at life very differently, as well.

But…perhaps that is why they are not crazed with madness and my people are.

It does not matter. I will win Clau-dah by feeding her. She will realize when I feed her that she is my mate, and then she will relax.

I stalk toward the dead animal and examine it. Less than a mouthful in my battle form, but plenty to eat for any two-legged creature. It looks tasty enough. I lean over and use my claws to slit the belly wide open and expose the tender organs.

Clau-dah makes a noise that does not sound like appreciation.

Perhaps she thinks I will not share the tenderest parts with her? She can have all of them. Sliding my hand into the viscera, I pull out the liver and hold it out to my mate, still wet with warm blood.

Her green eyes go wide and she makes a face, then shakes her head. “No!”

No? There is that word again. I frown. Does she not realize that a mate offers his woman the choicest bits of a kill? Does she not realize this is for eating? I take a bite out of the dripping organ, enjoying the salty gush of it into my mouth, and then hold it out to her again.

She gasps, pressing a hand to her lips.

Still no? Is she not hungry? Confused by her reaction, I take another bite of the delicious liver, watching her. Does she not want her gift because it is from me? Or does she not understand that it is a gift? Do the two-legs here in this ugly place not feed their mates? Care for them?

Or…is she refusing because she already has a mate?

I growl low at the thought, furious. Clau-dah is mine. I will battle for her. Whoever her mate is, he is not worthy of her. Just the thought of another male touching my chosen mate makes my wings flare, and I am thrust back into my battle form immediately.

No one can have her.

In the corner, Clau-dah squeaks with distress.

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.