You mean the doors? Okay. I slip on a pair of slippers and head for the front doors of the store, still yawning and sleepy. Things have been strained and quiet between Dakh and I, but he sounds happy today. Maybe whatever he’s been going through has passed and he’s getting back to his normal self. Of course, I’m not entirely sure what that “normal” self would be, but I like a happy Dakh more than a moody one. And I’m really glad he’s home early, because it’s been a long, lonely week without him for company.

I wrap a blanket around my shoulders and head for the door. I have a happy little buzz until I hear the first scream.

Am…I imagining things? Or was that a hawk? I race down the aisles toward the front doors of the SuperMart and peer up at the skies through the dirty glass. There’s nothing except gold wings as Dakh lowers himself toward the parking lot.

But then there’s a second scream. And as the dragon comes closer, I see that Dakh’s got something clutched in his claws. Something wearing the uniform of one of the Fort Dallas New Militia and squirming in the dragon’s grasp.

Oh God.

My stomach clenches as I push through the glass doors and run outside. “Dakh! What are you doing?”

“Sasha!” The voice that cries out my name isn’t Dakh’s. It’s Tate’s. The dragon’s got Tate in his claws. Even now, I watch as Dakh settles on the ground. He releases Tate, and the soldier scrambles to his feet and starts to run away. Dakh immediately smacks him down with one forefoot and Tate screams again.

I brought you a gift, my mate. There’s such a pleased undercurrent in Dakh’s thoughts.

“A gift?” I stare at Dakh’s big golden dragon body. His eyes are a bright, whirling gold, not the scary dark. He’s pleased with himself at the moment. I look down at Tate, who seems so small perched between the dragon’s claws. One looks like it’s digging into his back, and Tate’s normally handsome face is contorted with fear and pain. He’s scratched up, and his skin is red from where it’s contacted Dakh’s scales.

Just looking at him makes my arm hurt. I feel a whisper of the old dread and fear that I associate with Tate’s presence, but it feels very small compared to how it’s felt in the past. He looks…pathetic under Dakh’s claws. I almost feel sorry for him.

Almost. Except my bruises are just now gone, my ribs still ache, and my arm’s still broken. So my sympathy meter is pretty low. He’s a terrible person.

But…he’s still a person. And this doesn’t feel right. “What are you doing, Dakh?”

“Help me, Sasha!” Tate calls out. He tries to squirm out from between Dakh’s claws. “The dragon has me!”

“I noticed,” I say, and shrug my blanket closer around my shoulders. “And I’m waiting for an explanation.” I give Dakh a patient look. “Well?”

“An explanation?” Tate yells. “Are you fucking kidding me? The dragon snatched me up—”

Dakh growls and lowers his head toward Tate. The man’s comments choke in his throat and he goes silent.

“Not you,” I say to Tate. “Him.” I shake my head at Dakh, my attention solely on the dragon. “Is this what you’ve been doing all this time? Hunting him?”

The dragon’s eyes whirl with pleasure. I brought him for you so you can watch him die. He will never hurt you again.

“I can’t decide if that’s sweet or bloodthirsty,” I murmur. “Either way, it’s all wrong. You can’t just snatch someone from the city because they were mean to me.”

“Are…are you talking to the dragon?” Tate is incredulous. His eyes are wide as he stares at me. “You tamed it?”

“Clearly not,” I say to him. “If I had, do you think I’d tell him to snatch you up?” I focus on Dakh again. “You know this is wrong, don’t you? Did you level the city to get him?”

I hurt no one. I knew you would not be pleased if I did. Dakh’s eyes whirl with gold. Everything I do is to please you.

I feel warm at that. It’s hard not to. “Oh, Dakh.”

Now tell me how you wish for him to die. He drags one claw over Tate’s arm. Shall I break his limbs like he broke yours?

I gasp. “I don’t want you to kill him.”

“What?” Tate cries.

Why not? Dakh demands. I can practically feel the scowl in his head. He hurt you.

He’s a person, and people matter, I tell Dakh, switching to head-speak so Tate will stop interrupting. And he hurt me, but I knew he was going to do it. He’s not entirely to blame. I am. I…said he could do it. Which is awful, but it’s also the truth.

Dakh’s thoughts flutter with ravens, and his eyes grow dark. Tate cries out in pain as the claw digs into his back again. You let him hurt you?

You have to understand, Dakh. I’m not proud of it. I hated it. But Claudia and Amy were gone, and I was starving. I didn’t have any way to make money. Every time I needed something, Tate would offer me food or money in exchange for…sex. Sometimes it wasn’t even sex. Sometimes he just liked to hurt me.

And this is why you do not like it when I touch you. There’s such deadly calm in his thoughts.

That’s right. But you can’t blame him entirely, because I knew what he wanted and I did it anyhow. I’m just as much to blame for my broken arm as he is.

You are not. You were desperate. He used that desperation against you. His thoughts grow angrier. I should have burned the human hive to the ground—

I’m glad you didn’t, I tell him quickly. There are bad people there, but there are good people, too. They’re people, just trying to make a living any way they can. I don’t blame them, and I’m glad you didn’t hurt them.

I never want you to worry about being hurt again, my Sasha. His eyes slide back to gold again slowly. You will always be safe with me. I will always protect you.

“I know,” I whisper softly. “And that’s sweet. I appreciate it. I really do.” I step forward, ignoring Tate, who’s still twisted under Dakh’s claws. As I pace forward, Dakh lowers his head, and when I reach him, I run my hand along his snout. He’s fearsome and terrifying, but he wants nothing but good things for me. How can I stay mad?

I still want to kill him, Sasha.

I don’t want that to happen, Dakh. Please. For me. He’s a person, and people matter.




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