Chapter 13
Bianca POV
Titus was a fine companion despite our limitations in communication.
I’d stolen a battery-operated lantern on my way out of camp, but there was no need for the extra light.
The moon was almost full and bright, and the dragon’s size did an excellent job of keeping away the most unruly prickly branches.
Still, even though something was tugging at my chest—telling me that Miles was near—I had no idea which way to go. Titus, at least, seemed to have a better idea, and once he caught up, I followed him through the night.
Frustration began to swell through me, and I swore, on all the gods and goddesses above, Miles had better have a darn good reason for this escapade, or he’d never know the end of it. It was so inconsiderate that we had to travel like a million miles to rescue him.
We all had lives that we’d abandoned. Take Titus, for example. He probably had several violent things that required his presence, and he’d had to put everything on hold just for this. How many people had been left unmurdered in his absence?
Still, I’d never paid attention to Titus’s dragon form before. The last time I’d seen it was after I’d been shot and was bleeding from the neck. He was elegant and foreboding, but some part of me was slightly disappointed, although it should be expected.
Damen had said our history was based on traditional Chinese lore, so Titus wouldn’t have wings. I suppose it made sense. Still, they could still fly, right? Possibly.
Besides, even if Titus had the ability, who would have taught him to fly? He was the only dragon, so no parental dragon figure was available to toss him off a building. Neither his father nor mother had been the flying sort.
Were there flying shifters?
Still, it was probably good that he was a wingless dragon; otherwise, if the prophecy was true and I wasn’t completely broken, I might be faced with the unpleasant task of pushing our future children from a tall height.
After all, our offspring must learn somehow, lest they become fodder in their weakness.
I wasn’t paying attention, and when Titus stopped, I walked directly into his face. He’d twisted his long neck to turn to me. Garnet eyes met mine once again, and I forgot to breathe.
He tilted his head, eyes unblinking, and it almost seemed like he was trying to tell me something.
“What?” I backed up and touched my chest. This was ridiculous. There was no reason for me to feel defensive.
A low sound rumbled from his chest, and his nostrils flared as he exhaled. A thin wisp of smoke curled in front of my face.
It was almost like he was offended, which was absurd.
At that thought, he moved back, unfurling wings previously concealed along his serpentine body. They emerged from where scales seemed to part and shift, revealing what had been perfectly hidden beneath.
“Oh…” I wasn’t sure how this worked, but this was an interesting development. I read that Chinese dragons didn’t have wings, so perhaps he was a mutant. Were we going to fly then?
Titus’s wings remained unfurled as he wrapped his tail around my legs, and I was pulled closer to him until my nose was even with a pure white wing.
I raised my hand, but then I paused and glanced at him—to make sure.
He lowered his head and nudged my arm with his face.
Even with his permission, my hands shook as I cautiously brushed my fingers over the smooth surface.
Unlike the rest of him, besides his nose and eyes, his wings were not protected by scales.
They were almost translucent, with an ethereal quality that seemed to shimmer in the lantern’s soft glow.
My heart began to race with the swell of something unfamiliar.
With that thought, he straightened his wing over my head, shadowing me like a canopy, and I was momentarily speechless.
That was until, close to where his wing met his body, I saw something that caused my heart to race.
“What’s that?” I asked, and without thinking, I pressed my hand flat against the ribbon-like tears shredded through the tendons. Titus twitched in response, and I jerked away, touching my lips instead.
I should have known better—scars were a sensitive topic.
Of course, Titus couldn’t answer—not right now. But my question did seem to draw his attention back to the present. He moved then, wrapping around me until his humongous head nuzzled my shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” I said for the lack of anything better. But why I was apologizing, I didn’t know. It might have been because I, for some reason, felt guilty about my previous thoughts of him flying or even because I’d touched him without permission, and maybe it had hurt.
But my chest constricted. Neither one of those things felt right. What was this unsettling emotion?
“So you can’t fly?” I asked, and his sudden exhale felt like a weight down my back.
I’d lifted my hand, twisting lightly in his soft, feather-like whiskers as they brushed against my cheek, and words I didn’t understand or know swelled in my chest. “I—”
Before I could finish my sentence, Titus suddenly shifted back into his human form, still naked and very much pressed close to me.
I jumped, pressing my fists to my eyes. “What—”
“Shh,” he interrupted, touching his forehead to mine and pressing his finger to my lips. “Miles is ahead. Why don’t we find out why he left, okay?”
Why was he so excited? Why did he care? I didn’t think he’d missed him all that much.
Sometimes, I wasn’t so sure about the two of them.
“So what’s wrong?” I asked, my voice breathless.
“I’m going to scare him.” Titus smirked, his angular jaw sharper.
Then, before I could even react, he’d disappeared—naked—into the brush.
It took some time for my racing heart to calm, which had nothing to do with the sight of Titus’s backside branding itself into my memory. I lowered my hand from my chest to my side as I finally was able to let out a low breath.
What the devil was wrong with these boys?
And why did that phrase seem so familiar? I could have sworn I’d heard it somewhere recently, but couldn’t quite place where.
I liked it.
But… back to business. Screw their stupid rivalry. Titus had abandoned me so that he could stalk Miles. How idiotic.
I, for one, would not play their games, nor would I be quiet.
“Miles?” I called, stepping forward in the direction Titus had vanished, the lantern’s soft light bobbing ahead of me.
I brushed the thicket from my face. I clutched the light like a lifeline—darkness held too many terrors I’d rather not face—even though my feet seemed to know exactly where to step.
The scent of pine and damp moss washed over me, and I could almost feel the earth thrumming beneath my feet, guiding me forward.
A movement caught my eye, and my focus returned to the present. I’d wandered into a different stretch of forest. My spine prickled.
“Titus?” I called tentatively, knowing even if he heard me, I might not catch his response. “Miles?”
I didn’t see them, but I could feel eyes following my every movement. My skin crawled—it couldn’t be either of them. They wouldn’t try to scare me like this.
A vibration through the ground made me freeze. The last of my bravery fled as blackness swarmed my vision. I dropped the lantern and ran.
I squeezed my eyes shut, letting instinct guide me. Where were they? Where was—
My thoughts cut off as I collided with a warm form, and we both went tumbling to the ground.
“Bianca?” Miles’s voice was close enough that I could make out every worried note in his tone, his familiar presence dulling the edges of my panic until all I could focus on was him. “What are you doing here?”
I could only stare at the man under me as the darkness receded from my vision. “Miles…”
He wore a tan fleece, camouflage pants, and combat boots—an awful combination that made me wonder if someone else laid out his clothes for him while we were home.
The neck of his once-white turtleneck was covered with clumsy streaks of black and green face paint while faint traces of said colors were still patched in pieces along the bridge of his thick nose, broad forehead, and full cheeks.
There was pink, too, coloring his expression as his deep gaze roamed over my face.
Miles .
I pushed to my knees, straddling him, and couldn’t hold back from tracing my fingers over his cheekbones.
It was almost something of a dream—this was the first time I’d witnessed Miles with anything more than scratchy stubble, and though his beard was still wiry, it had grown much fuller than the last time I’d seen him unshaven.
So, given time, he could grow a beard.
The knot in my chest loosened as the rest of the tension I’d been carrying faded away. He was finally with me again, and even though he would probably hate the idea, he was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
I was finally anchored back to earth after flying free in the wind.
“What are you doing here?” he asked. He touched my shoulders, and the warmth of his hands sank into my joints. He sat up, with me still in his lap, until our faces were close.
The shock of our meeting began to fade, and reality settled in.
We’d finally found him! Or rather, I’d found him. Ultimately, Titus had been useless, leaving me to fend for myself. After all that posturing and the childish games. What in the world was the point of abandoning me?
“Titus found me five minutes ago,” Miles said, brushing his fingertips over my forehead. “But he didn’t tell me you were here too.”
All right, perhaps I hadn’t been the first to find Miles. No matter. I would be the first to welcome him back into the fold.
I was the one who’d missed Miles the most.
“How dare you just leave without a word!” I pushed at his chest. “How could you do that to me?”
“Ow!” Miles winced and grabbed my hands as the good-natured grin dropped from his lips. “But I didn’t! I left you a note.”
“A note ?” My voice had taken on a slightly hysterical pitch, but I didn’t care. “Are you talking about that over-dramatic letter that told me nothing ?”