Chapter 6 …And Not Indestructible
…And Not Indestructible
Pascal
I didn’t know how old Ansel was, but he sure as hell wasn’t twenty-three. He might look it if I squinted, but he couldn’t lie to save his life. I could smell his nervousness on him.
The entire situation screamed runaway.
A part of me wanted to help him. He seemed like a nice guy. But I couldn’t really push him to tell me why he was hiding out here without revealing something about myself. He’d seen enough.
If he hadn’t found me, I would have slept off the worst of it in dragon form and attempted to fly back to my car as soon as the sun went down again.
But now, as I sat here, the pain in my back only grew.
I shouldn’t shift. The dislocated shoulder didn’t hurt anymore, and my ankle would heal in a few days.
But a sprained wing? That wasn’t a mere trifle.
Could I walk through the mountains to my car? In my state, it would take a couple of days at least and cost me a lot of pain. If Ansel could shorten my journey, then I’d be most grateful.
Ugh. I still cringed internally at him seeing me.
The Ardaine dragons always kept to the most remote places and only flew after sundown.
Most of my friends vacationed in Canada or South America because, with the population density around Ardaine, it was getting increasingly difficult to go flying.
Now, apparently, not even the deserted parts of Cross River were entirely safe.
I hadn’t known there even were any cabins in this area.
And how the hell had his granddad seen any of us?
Anyway, Ansel had guessed it right. Sightings like this had happened occasionally throughout history. It wasn’t a big deal, especially since the boy didn’t have any evidence and was alone. But still. I should have been more careful.
A single dragon after forty is a disaster, Davidson had said.
He’d been on point. The idea of sitting at home alone after the garden party had been so horrifying I’d gone flying. I hadn’t even checked the weather. I’d grown restless over the years and begun taking unnecessary risks. What happened during the night was all my fault.
With a towel over his shoulder and a toothbrush in his hand, Ansel told me to rest and went out. I tossed around for a bit, trying to find the position that would hurt the least. In the end, I managed to fall asleep. I didn’t even notice him coming back.
When I woke up from the nap, I watched Ansel flutter around the cabin, cooking lunch.
He probably wasn’t aware I was awake. Humming under his breath, he prepared sandwiches with peanut butter and jelly while something cooked in a pot on the stove.
I didn’t see a fridge or light fixtures anywhere, so maybe there wasn’t any electricity here.
Then I spotted a chunky black box on the floor by the bed with charging cables attached to it.
Some kind of portable battery? Under the counter in the kitchen corner stood several jugs with water.
As he pottered around, opening and closing cupboards noiselessly, he exposed cans, boxes of pasta, preboiled rice, and packs of dehydrated food.
It must have been quite an effort to schlep all the supplies here.
Was he preparing for the end of the world?
He turned around abruptly and caught my gaze.
“Oh. You’re awake? How are you feeling?”
I wiggled my toes and rolled onto my back. The bed was so narrow; I barely fit into it.
“Much better, thank you.”
“I’m making us some pasta, then we’ve got PB&J sandwiches for later.”
Pasta? Yes. I couldn’t wait to put more carbs into my system. The dragon craved them after flying. The cereal earlier had merely awoken my appetite, and my stomach churned with hunger again. “That’s very thoughtful of you, thank you.”
“Do you think you’ll be able to walk?” Ansel asked, eyeing my legs anxiously.
I swung around on the bed, trying to keep myself covered with the towel and blanket so I wouldn’t flash him. I put my feet on the floor and pressed. It did ache, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been in the morning.
“I think so. I’ll find some makeshift walking stick in the forest, and I’ll be good to go.”
Ansel stared at my feet, scratching his neck. “You should at least wrap them in something. You can’t walk two miles through the forest barefoot.”
“What’s the ground?”
“Um. Pine needles and leaves mostly. Sand and gravel the last bit by the end of the road.”
“That’s fine.”
“You’ll be cold.”
“I don’t get cold.”
He peered at me with those eyes. Why did it seem as if he could see the dragon? My spine tingled, and my temples throbbed where the spikes would grow when I shifted. It was the strangest sensation, making me feel naked in a way that had nothing to do with my lack of clothing.
“Okay,” he said finally, releasing me from the power of his gaze.
I shuddered. Hell, for such a little omega, Ansel had a presence.
Leaning on a thick, crooked branch I’d found by the cabin, I shuffled after Ansel down the narrow trail. A lake shimmered behind the trees ahead. Ansel said we had to walk around it because the turning point of the gravel road where his car was parked lay on the other side.
“I feel a little ridiculous,” I said.
Ansel glanced back over his shoulder, grinning. “A little? You’re wearing a towel and an old, dirty coat and holding a wooden stick. It looks like the laziest last-minute wizard costume ever.”
“You’re mean, Ansel.” I hopped over a root and winced when I almost lost my balance.
“Sorry. Does it hurt?”
“It’s fine.”
This was humiliating. I was a dragon, dammit. The apex predator. I didn’t hunt per se, but still. I wasn’t made for hobbling on one leg, dressed like a scarecrow.
“Should I walk next to you so you can lean on me?”
“It’s fine, Ansel.”
“No need to be snappy,” my guide scolded. He held a branch aside for me so it wouldn’t smack me in the face.
“Thanks.”
The trail widened so we could walk next to each other for a while.
I found myself looking at the boy more often than I should.
He was a mystery. He seemed young and naive, but he was here alone, with the skills and equipment of a seasoned mountaineer.
With his face and poise, not to mention his accent, he’d fit into a posh country club. Private education?
“Ansel, do you speak any foreign languages?”
“French and Spanish. Why?”
I ignored his question. “Impressive. Have you ever been to France or Spain?”
“Only with my parents. My papa is into art, so he’d drag us through all the galleries in Paris, Nice, and Madrid.”
Yep, the kid had been fed with a golden spoon.
Which made the entire situation even more suspicious.
His hiking boots seemed well used but in great condition, the leather polished, and he had a rain cover over his backpack, hiding the shapes of two water bottles.
All his clothes were top-notch outdoor gear—expensive but practical.
The faint scent of his sweat wafted to me, infuriatingly delicious.
Sharp pain shot through the sole of my right foot. “Ouch.”
“What? What happened?”
“Stepping on a pine cone feels just like stepping on a Lego. Who’d have thought?”
“Do you have a lot of experience with stepping on Legos?”
“Yes. Not recommended.”
He paused, looking around cautiously. “So, you’ve got kids?”
“No. But I’m an uncle to a few. They live in Canada.”
“Ah. Got it.”
“Do you have any siblings?”
“I’m an only child. How many siblings do you have?”
“There’s seven of us. I was born smack-dab in the middle.”
“Seven? Wow. That’s so cool!”
“Cool? My childhood was mayhem.”
He turned, walking a few steps backward. “And are all of your brothers…like you?”
“Not answering that.”
“You’re no fun.” Ansel sighed and resumed plodding forward. “It must have been great growing up in a big family.”
“I always thought it must be a sweet deal to be an only child. All the presents are yours only, nobody steals your sweets or toys, nobody sits on your chest and tickles you until you pee yourself…”
Ansel laughed. “True, I’ve never peed myself from tickling. But I wish my parents had a little less focus on just me, you know?”
“Hm. That makes sense.”
We slowly made our way along the lake shore. In some places, the ground got muddy and soft, marsh-like, but someone had put logs and stones on the path, reinforcing the surface.
If I weren’t limping, trying not to put weight on my injured ankle, it would have been an easy twenty-minute walk.
Like this, it took us an hour. I tried to brave it out, but I had to take breaks.
My left arm was killing me after I’d popped the dislocated joint back, so I couldn’t lean on the stick properly.
Not for the first time, I wondered how people dealt with pain.
As a dragon shifter, I suffered only a fraction of what a human would have endured with the same injuries.
I watched Ansel as he walked in front of me, so tiny and fragile.
A weak, breakable little omega. And I felt like a coward compared to him.
“We’re almost there,” he said cheerily. “Just one last turn and we’ll be able to see my car.”
“Thank you so much, Ansel. I haven’t made it easy for you, but you’ve been very brave. I really appreciate your help.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” he threw over his shoulder. “We still have to drive to the park’s main entrance. The roads are always a mess after a rainstorm.”
Judging by the state of the trail, he was right. I frowned at my muddy feet. I should wash them before getting into a vehicle.
“Huh. That’s weird,” Ansel muttered.
I lifted my head. “What?”
But he was already speeding away from me, eyes on something in front of him.
I limped after him as fast as I could. “Is something the matter?”
He didn’t reply.
As the trail got steeper, I had to focus on where I was stepping so I wouldn’t face-plant into the mud. I caught up with Ansel after a few minutes.