Chapter 9
Chapter
Nine
Ash tore through the street, her heart hammering, hands prickling. The marketplace roared behind her, a stampede of voices and pounding feet.
She veered hard into an alley and slammed into something solid, hooded, and cloaked in black. “No—”
“It’s me.” Race’s low rumble snapped her focus as he tugged her into a shadowed entrance. “What the hell happened?”
She clutched his shirt, words tumbling out between ragged breaths. “That-that dragon-woman—”
The horde thundered closer.
His arm banded around her waist, and Race dematerialized them. They reformed somewhere in the forest, the cold mountain air scraping her lungs raw. Her legs buckled, and she collapsed against him with a groan, the burn on her arm throbbing in time with her racing heart.
His heavy palm gently rubbed her back. “You’re safe now.”
When the world finally steadied, and she could breathe again, she stepped away from his unsettling touch and sank onto one of the moss-covered rocks dotting the steep mountainside. The valley shimmered far below, parts lost in drifting mist.
Ash scrubbed her hot face with trembling hands, then lowered them and stared at her fingers, the prickling easing, no longer feeling as if it needed a target.
“Want to tell me what happened?” Race asked, flipping back his hood.
She curled her hands into fists, the burn on her forearm searing now as adrenaline ebbed.
“I didn’t talk to anyone. Well, except the food vendors.” She pulled the elastic from her tiny ponytail, and her hair spilled forward. “I’d just finished putting the food in my backpack when I accidentally knocked into this woman—”
She scowled, picturing the annoying bully. “She sniffed me and flat out said she smelled you on me. Since we weren’t…never mind. She basically announced she claimed you as hers. And threatened to kill me if I stood in her way.”
A tic worked in his jaw. “A she-dragon.”
Ash nodded, hunching forward, and the pack she’d forgotten flopped across her back. She dragged it off and dropped it to the ground. “I hurt her.”
“What?”
“And I’d do it again,” she muttered, removing her coat. Carefully, she pushed up her sleeve and frowned at the angry red welts marring her forearm. After that blast of heat, she’d expected far worse.
Race hunkered down in front of her and grasped her wrist. “What happened?”
“The dragoness burned me, making her intentions known. It was bloody excruciating,” she grumbled, squinting at the discoloration on her forearm.
“Honestly, I thought I’d be more charred, but look—it’s just red marks.
My coat truly is flame-resistant. Do you not have male dragons here for her to go after rather than hunting down strangers?
” She glared at him. “Or am I going to be a target every time some she-dragon gets a whiff of you on me?”
His expression darkened, a dangerous flicker sparking in those blooded depths, but his thumb gently stroked her hurt skin. “They always go after the most powerful. And I am.”
It was said without a hint of the baiting arrogance from a male who seemed to thrive on showing her that side of him.
“What do you mean you hurt her?” His caressing thumb moved over her unmarred skin. A curl of desire seeped through her, her pulse kicking hard as their gazes locked.
She jerked free and shot to her feet, rubbing her skin where it tingled from his touch. “With lightning. Just a bit. That scaled heifer deserved it.”
A sigh escaped him.
Ash turned away and frowned at the unfamiliar terrain. Forest shadows rolled down the slope below, and thick ferns draped the ground where she stood, the fronds crushed beneath her boots. “Where did you bring us? This isn’t the cave’s area.”
“We’re farther west. Leagues from Nyxholt.” He rose. “This is Kraevyr Peak, if I remember correctly. We can’t return to the cave. She-dragons can track scents for miles, and that one would have marked yours. Let’s give her time to grow bored and abandon the chase.”
“Wonderful.” Ash swallowed hard.
His expression gentled. “After that blowout, I suspect more will come, mostly out of curiosity.”
“What?”
“Don’t worry, I have you.”
Her head spun. Maybe it was the thin air, or perhaps the way he looked at her, causing the pull between them to spring up sharper than ever. The urge to lean into him tugged at her.
Bloody hell. It was sheer lunacy to let those thoughts invade.
He was a dragon shifter. An immortal.
And she was…
Hell, she didn’t even know anymore, not when her humanity itself was in question, and the answers she needed were hidden somewhere in a village deep in the Himalayas.
She blew out a shaky breath and scrubbed her hot face. Lord, what a mess.
“We need someplace they won’t think to look,” he said, removing his cloak. “Another cave…”
Ash frowned as he scanned the area.
All she could see were more mountains meandering away like a ribbon of blackened charcoal, peaks swallowed in mist. Sunlight fell in fractured shafts through the canopy of massive trees, catching on moss and rough bark.
The enormous stygian trunks glistened, white sap slowly seeping through the dark wood.
She reached out to the nearest one, brushing her fingers over the liquid. “What are these trees called?”
“Bleed-cedars,” he said without looking at her.
“Fitting,” she murmured. The pale resin shimmered faintly, sticking to her fingers. She bent and wiped the residue onto the damp moss.
Then his words registered.
She jerked upright. “Wait. What do you mean, more will come?”
His gaze shifted back to hers. “You are what dragons call a Storm Summoner. Like Spellcasters, they’re rare. With you hurting that she-dragon, the tale will spread. A human with that power?” His voice hardened. “Priceless. The stronger males will do anything to own you—and the power you carry.”
“And the females will kill me because I’m competition—competition!” She exhaled sharply. “Brilliant.”
“It will never happen. Let’s keep moving. Higher ground. The altitude will mask your scent.”
“Just what I need, even thinner air.”
One corner of his tempting mouth quirked. “At least you’ll survive.”
She huffed, picked up her coat, and tied it around her waist. “You really know how to show a girl an exciting time, don’t you, dragon man?”
His gaze darkened, that predatory edge sharpening. “Just say the word, little vixen.”
Heat flooded her face, pooling low in her core. Clearly, her body hadn’t gotten the memo. He was off-limits.
So, she did the only thing she could.
She glared.
And he smirked, as if he’d won something.
Impossible man. He was playing with her.
“C’mon.” He picked up her things and drew her close. This time, she shut her eyes as he dematerialized them—the sensation of leaving her stomach behind took hold—and then she was back on solid ground.
“Good Lord,” she groaned, clutching his shirt. “I don’t know how you stand this way of traveling.”
He steadied her with a hand on her arm. “I’m used to it.” His gaze searched hers. “You okay?”
Ash nodded, too wrung out for a comeback. She dragged in a breath and stepped back.
Race scanned the forest, nostrils flaring. He started walking. “Be careful. The paths here are treacherous.”
She shuffled after him. They climbed in silence, the steep terrain forcing them to pick their way carefully between slick mossy rocks and gnarled roots. Race moved ahead with his usual predatory grace, never more than an arm’s length away, close enough to catch her if she stumbled.
And given her jelly legs, she probably would.
Even back at uni in the States, hiking with friends through Big Bear in summer, she’d never struggled like this—every step a negotiation with gravity.
He pushed aside the massive elephantine ears of the towering plants, and she ducked under, but droplets of water coated her face, and even her tunic grew damp in the perpetual mist, as they continued.
Ash panted, the sound loud enough to awaken the dead. Lovely.
His head turned her way. “You okay?”
“Peachy…” Her thighs burned, her lungs screamed in the thin air. “Thirsty.”
And the glimmer of amusement she was beginning to like, but didn’t appreciate right then, surfaced. He stopped, tilted his head, listening.
Her gaze wandered over the sharp lines of his face, those ridiculously long dark lashes that didn’t match his silver hair. Well, he did have streaks of ebony threaded at the front—
Her lungs jammed up when his dark gaze caught hers—his stare slamming straight into her chest, leaving her feeling as if there wasn’t enough air in the forest.
Then he turned away and resumed walking. “We’re close to a stream.”
With another raspy breath, she shrugged off the moment and followed. With those claret eyes, even stone would cave.
“This high up?” she puffed.
He glanced back, one eyebrow raised. “Where do you think water comes from on a snowcapped mountain?”
“Stop bloody gloating. It doesn’t suit,” she grumbled.
Her gaze lowered to his smiling lips—lips that had pressed to hers in such a tragically brief kiss. And she’d frozen, useless as an icicle.
Her face heated, and she tried to shut out the thought.
“Dare I ask about the flushed cheeks?” His voice held that lazy amusement, making her want to throttle him.
“Still can’t believe you turn into something with a tail,” she deflected, managing a sweet smile.
He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “Let’s get you that water before your sarcasm dries up completely.”
A few minutes later, he pushed aside some low branches, revealing a rustling, crystal-clear stream.
“Have your water. I’ll be back shortly.”
And then he was gone—just gone.
Exhaling, Ash collapsed to her knees on the damp moss and scooped up handfuls of the icy water. She gulped greedily, then splashed her hot face. The shock of cold should’ve cooled her down. It didn’t.
Heat still simmered beneath her skin. The urge to strip and roll into the shallow current gripped her hard, but knowing Race, he’d probably reappear right when she was naked again.