Chapter Six
Casey
Time marched on, and I didn’t know how long I wandered around looking for shelter, civilization, food and water, but eventually I couldn’t go anymore, and I lay down, knowing that taking a nap might turn into a forever nap, but unable to do anything else. I hadn’t actively decided to give up, but that was exactly what was happening.
I had always known that my lack of shifting was going to harm me, but never did I think it would land me in the middle of nowhere, unable to meet my basic needs. The world fell away quickly, my dog hallucinating about a dragon right before it did, and I didn’t know how long I slept, but when I woke up, nothing made sense. It was warm and comfortable, but also everything hurt, and those two things didn’t normally go together.
And there was the scent that wrapped around me—that felt like home and love and peace. It was like standing near the ocean on a crisp spring morning as a breeze carried lilacs over the waves.
It took me a second to figure out that I was still in my beagle form but no longer in the woods. I blinked away the blurriness, trying to figure out where I was exactly. And when the world became clear, the first thing I saw was the hottest man in all of existence looking down at me. He had a bowl in his hand and no shirt on. Not that he needed one. His rippling muscles were a masterpiece.
“You’re awake. Good. You had me so worried.” His voice was a balm. “I have some food for you, and I need you to try and eat it. You’re so dehydrated, and this will help.”
The fear from earlier came rushing back in. Was this sexy man another do-gooder wanting to take me to a shelter?
Crap.
If that was what was happening here, I needed to get away. I was weak and, with my luck, the place would be run by humans who couldn’t scent me, they’d think I was sick, and I’d be put down. What a freaking humiliating way to go.
I started to move, trying to wiggle away. My body wasn’t cooperating.
His hand came down, and he rubbed it along my back. A calm rushed over me, the scent his movement kicked up showing me that what I was smelling wasn’t the room—it was him. He was the scent of ocean air and lilacs washing over me. But it was more than that. So much more.
He was my mate. This man before me was my fated. I was too weak, my nose not working quite well enough, for me to determine what his animal was. It didn’t matter. He could be a spider shifter, and I’d have embraced it fully. I didn’t care, although there was the very real possibility that he cared about my beagle—or, more accurately, his lack of ability to shift back.
But I wasn’t going to focus on that now. He was mine, and that was what mattered. Except he thought I was a dog. A cute dog, but a dog nonetheless. At no point had he hinted that he recognized me as his mate or even another shifter. To him, I was a house pet.
Talk about a great first impression.
“It’s okay. I’ve got you, and you don’t need to be scared. I know my dragon was huge, and that had to give you a fright.”
Dragon. My mate was a dragon. No wonder I couldn’t scent out what his beast was. He was my first encounter with one. And from the way he said that, I’d already met his beast.
I closed my eyes, trying to remember what he was talking about, hating the missing pieces from when I lay down.
“You don’t have to keep this fur,” he said and kissed the top of my head. “I won’t hurt you. I promise you.”
Something about that kiss woke up some of the memories. He was a dragon. A full-ass dragon. One who saw me, cared for me, and protected me like I was precious.
Before this trip, I’d thought they were extinct. Clearly I was wrong, because he carried me in that form, flew with me, protected me, brought me here, and now was feeding me.
I picked up my head the best I could and nudged myself toward the bowl. He was right—I needed to eat. I needed to get my strength. I wasn’t going to be able to talk to him until I shifted and even if I was in full control of that side of me, in this weakened state, I’d have been trapped.
My mate fed me, bite by bite. Mate. Gods, I loved the sound of that. Did he sense it too? I wasn’t sure, but that didn’t matter right now. All that did was getting nourished enough to possibly shift.
I was grateful it wasn’t dog food he was hand-feeding me, but honestly, at that point, anything that had any moisture was going in my body. He’d prepared meat with broth. I’d have loved it even in human form. He started by giving me a couple of pieces, and the moisture was enough to suck down and make my mouth usable. And before I knew it, the entire bowl was gone.
I was feeling better. Not great but better.
“The salt in there should act as an electrolyte.” He set the bowl down. “I’m Nolan, by the way. I should’ve led with that, but honestly, I’m not sure what I’m doing.”
As if I did.
“I’m going to ask you something, and I don’t want you to be offended.”
Whenever anybody said that, I was always offended. But I listened because he didn’t come across with mean-girl vibes, so maybe he was going to be the exception.
“Are you scared of me?”
That wasn’t the direction I thought he’d been heading. I did the best I could to shake my head in a “no.” I had a ton of emotion running through me, but none of it was fear based, at least not fear of him. Fear of never shifting back? That was a different story.
“Are you stuck?” he spoke, barely a whisper.
I wanted to shrivel up and disappear, telling my mate—who I had only just met and still had yet to say a word to—that I was stuck in a shift, and unable to move was embarrassing. Mortifying, even.
And finally, I gave in. Gave a nod. He deserved to know.
“I’m going to get a healer.”
A healer couldn’t help me. But even if they could, it meant that this man, this wonderful man, this wonderful shirtless man who just fed me and saved me, and who Fate had sent for me, was going to leave. I couldn’t let that happen.
I jumped onto his lap, shocked I had the strength.
“You want me to take you?”
No. I very much did not. We had to stay here. I tried to indicate that by shaking my head and that only seemed to confuse him more.
I jumped off his lap and onto the floor, running toward the door where I planned to block him from leaving. As if my small adorable beagle could stop him if he was determined. But a mate’s gotta try.
He couldn’t leave. I wouldn’t let him.
My mate came over and sat on the floor. He wasn’t pushing me. He was being patient and kind, just sitting there watching me and looking at me like he was trying to figure out what I needed and how best to give it.
Why couldn’t I talk to him?
Why couldn’t I shift back?
Why couldn’t I be the kind of mate he needed instead of one that he was going to be burdened with?
Fate wasn’t fair.