15. Poppy
POPPY
I squint up at the circular opening of daylight two hundred feet above us. The walls of the cenote are solid rock, slick with moisture. There’s no way out.
For a person without wings, that is.
This morning? I am so skipping cardio.
Thanks to a solid night of sleep and a breakfast consisting entirely of roasted alien shark, I am feeling incredible. Whoever this fool is that took over this reality show? They’re going to be my bitch by the end of this.
I crack my knuckles.
I could use a coffee, but I am ready to get the fuck out of this hole.
Beside me, Vael stands tall, stretching his wings out to their absolute fullest. No scratches, no dents, just leather-and-scale muscle. He looks like a pin-up model for an interstellar dragon calendar.
Out of all my recent choices, he’s the best one I’ve made.
"The trajectory is clear," he rasps, his subwoofer of a voice vibrating right into my chest. "I can carry you through the shaft."
I try not to make a joke about shafts. I really want to, but I don’t.
"Let’s fucking do it," I say, stepping closer.
“No, I meant we need to fly up there. Not fucking do it,” he stares down at me with a puzzled expression.
“Sorry.” I clear my throat. “I use the word fucking like… confetti. Glitter. A little sprinkle here and there for emphasis. I didn’t mean fucking.” I gesture between us.
A vague disappointment passes over his face, and I swallow a laugh.
“I’m ready when you are, Vael,” I tell him brightly. “Beam me up.”
He nods once, and his huge hands clamp around my waist, lifting me smoothly into his arms. He pulls me flush against his chest, and yep, there goes his cock again, doing that heavy, rhythmic pulse right against my hip.
I might not be in heat anymore, but I remember the way he felt inside me just fine.
And it was really good.
"Hold tightly, Poppy." He locks eyes with me, grinning enough to show fang.
I wrap my arms around his neck, burying my face against his broad shoulder. "Trust me, Vael, I am not letting go. Let’s blow this shark popsicle stand."
With a powerful, explosive snap of his wings, we launch off the cavern floor. I squeal.
The wind rips through my tangled hair as he rockets us straight up through the hole. I peek over his shoulder for a split second, watching the disappointed four-eyed space sharks shrink into tiny silver dots in the pool below. Sucks to suck, fishies. No human-soup today.
Vael banks hard, clearing the mossy lip of the cave mouth. Full daylight’s nearly blinding afte the dark of the cave, and I blink as my eyes adjust, Vael dropping heavily onto the damp forest grass.
He doesn't drop me right away, though. He stands there in the humid air, his hands firmly at my waist.
"You do not fear the heights.” His tail lashes against my leg, wrapping around an ankle. "You possess the spirit of a Draegon, Poppy."
I look up at his handsome, serious face, my heart flip-flopping. “I like the sound of that.”
“I like the sound of your voice,” he agrees.
His gaze drops to my mouth, and I bite my lip.