Chapter 8
Drake
Harlow is breathing in heavy pants. It feels like we’ve been walking for hours through this damned jungle, and by now, she is struggling to keep up behind me.
Her heart rate is elevated to the point that I can practically feel it through our unwanted bond.
Each ragged breath she takes grates on my nerves, not because I’m annoyed with her, but because it reminds me of the impossible situation we’re in.
I set a punishing pace, hoping against hope that we might still make it back to the Academy before nightfall.
But the dense canopy above us is already beginning to filter the late afternoon sun into long, golden shafts, and I know we’re not going to make it.
We’re going to have to spend the night in this jungle. Just the two of us.
Fuck my life.
There’s been no sign of rescue. No distant sound of helicopters or dragons overhead. I keep listening for Amelia’s voice in my mind, but get nothing. My rider is too far away. Maybe they’re leaving me out here to rot as punishment for my spectacular breach of protocol.
I wouldn’t blame them.
The anger that’s been simmering in my chest all afternoon flares hotter. How the hell could this happen? I already have a rider. A dragon bonding with two humans is so rare it’s practically unheard of.
Why her? Why did it have to be her?
I should have let her fall. It would have been cleaner. Simpler. One less Tribute to worry about.
But even as the thought crosses my mind, I immediately take it back. None of these humans deserves to die for the Mainland’s lies. None of them asked to be caught up in this.
That doesn’t make my situation any less fucked.
As the Academy leader – hell, as a Council member – I should be leading by example. Shifting to save a Tribute was wrong on every level. I broke protocol and created a bond I don’t want. The Council is going to have my head, and I can’t blame them.
The bond formed the moment she spoke to my beast. The moment she offered to scratch behind his horns, like my dragon was some kind of oversized pet. If the situation weren’t so catastrophically screwed up, I might actually find it amusing.
I didn’t then, and I don’t now.
I realize that I can’t hear Harlow’s steps anymore, and turn to find her leaning heavily against a tree trunk, her face flushed and sweat beading on her forehead. She looks exhausted, and despite my frustration with this entire situation, I almost feel sorry for her.
“Just a little further,” I tell her.
She shakes her head, pushing damp strands of dark hair back from her face. “I need a rest. And I could really go for some ice-cold water and a burger with all the toppings right about now. Especially melted cheese. Lots of ooey gooey melted cheese.”
I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. There’s something about her that I like. Her grit, her backbone…she’s interesting.
She’s different. And in a good way, which pisses me off more than anything else. I don’t want to like her.
“There’s a river just ahead.” I point. “It’s not far. You can drink your fill there. Besides, we can’t keep going for much longer. It’s going to be dark soon.”
Her eyes brighten, and she pushes off from the tree. “Water? Really? How much further?”
“Ten minutes…maybe less.”
“Oh, good,” she says with renewed determination. “I can walk for another ten minutes.”
We set off again, and true to my word, it doesn’t take long before the sound of running water reaches us from up ahead. The jungle opens up as we approach the riverbank, revealing a broad stream that cuts through the landscape like a silver ribbon.
Before I can warn her, Harlow breaks into a run toward the water’s edge. She drops to her knees at the bank and cups her hands, bringing the clear water to her lips with obvious relief.
“Oh, my word, that’s so good,” she says, splashing more water on her face and neck. She looks giddy with excitement, completely oblivious to her surroundings.
My eyes scan the area, looking for threats. The water is moving fast enough to be relatively clean, but rivers in tropical jungles are never truly safe. There are predators that—
Movement in the water catches my eye. A long, dark shadow gliding just beneath the surface, heading straight for where Harlow is kneeling at the bank.
A caiman. And a big one.
I move quickly, grabbing her around the waist and yanking her backward just as strong jaws snap shut where she was kneeling a split second earlier. Water sprays everywhere as the beast thrashes, frustrated at missing its prey.
Harlow screams, the sound piercing in the jungle air, her body going rigid in my arms as she sees those lethal jaws snapping shut.
I carry her several feet back from the water’s edge before setting her down, my heart still hammering from the close call. That was too fucking close.
Before I can step away, she turns and throws her arms around me, pressing her face against my chest as she makes soft, sobbing sounds. Her whole body is shaking.
The feel of her against me nearly stops my heart. She’s soft everywhere I’m hard, warm and pliant and smelling like flowers and sunshine. Her breasts are pressed against my chest. She feels good.
I stand frozen, my arms at my sides. Her scent is so good it’s making my dragon stir. After a moment that lasts far too long, I force myself to grip her shoulders and set her at arm’s length.
“You’re fine,” I tell her, my voice rougher than it should be.
“I nearly died,” she whispers, her eyes wide with shock.
I choke out a laugh. “And not for the first time today. That was your third time at nearly dying,” I grumble, trying to distance myself from the way she felt in my arms. “That has to be some kind of record.”
She frowns, her brow furrowing. “Three? I only count two.”
“You fell from Sky’s Edge, then my dragon could easily have killed you, and now that caiman thought you’d make an excellent snack.
” I gesture toward the water, where ripples are still spreading from where the beast disappeared.
“You can’t just run down to water like that, Harlow.
We’re in the jungle. There are creatures living out here that will kill you in an instant. ”
“I didn’t think,” she says quietly, wrapping her arms around herself.
“Now you know to be more careful.” I look around the small clearing. “We’ll set up camp over there. It’s as good a place as any – close to water but far enough back to be relatively safe.”
Relief floods her features. “It would be great if we could set up camp here. I don’t think I could walk much further.”
“Stay here,” I order, then cautiously approach the water’s edge.
The caiman is gone, probably lurking somewhere downstream, but I scan the water carefully before waving her forward.
“You can finish drinking, but stay alert.”
She approaches cautiously this time, kneeling well back from the edge and cupping water in her hands. After drinking her fill, she starts splashing water on her face and neck again.
“I’m so hot and sweaty,” she gripes, then glances up at me. “I really want to clean up properly. I’m going to take off my shirt, so you need to keep your eyes on the water…if that’s okay? I mean, you don’t have to look at me to keep me safe, do you?”
I roll my eyes. “I’ve seen naked females before, Harlow.”
“Not me, you haven’t,” she shoots back, her cheeks flushing pink.
“What you have isn’t any different from any other female,” I grumble, though even as I say it, I know it’s a lie.
Nudity is normal for shifters – we have to be comfortable with our bodies, given how often we shift – but something tells me that Harlow would be different.
Human females are softer, more feminine than shifter women.
She mutters something under her breath about not being a shifter, and I force myself to focus on the water, watching for any sign of that caiman or other predators, like anacondas.
Behind me, I hear the rustle of fabric, then a little noise of distress. I glance back because she sounds like she might be in trouble again, and immediately wish I hadn’t.
Her shirt is stuck halfway over her head, the fabric tangled in her hair as she staggers slightly, almost falling on her ass. For a moment, I’m torn between amusement at her clumsiness and something much more dangerous as my eyes take in the sight of her.
Her bra is simple, practical, but it does nothing to hide the full curves of her breasts. They’re plump and perfect, exactly the right size for my hands. The cotton almost enhances the faint outline of her nipples, which are dark against the light fabric.
My balls tighten, and I quickly look away, jaw clenched so hard it aches.
Fuck. This is exactly what I don’t need.
I decide to focus on the water instead and do so with renewed intensity. Anything to keep my mind off the half-naked human behind me and the way my body is responding to her.
One thing’s for sure: it’s going to be a very long-ass night.