11. Ava #2
They both spun to face Jerrid as he stalked up the path, still wrapped in his blanket. Tension simmered between Ava’s shoulder blades, buzzing up into the base of her skull. The anger in his voice, the look in his eyes…
Dragon lurked beneath the surface, too close for comfort.
“I’m fine, Jerrid,” she said, forcing a smile. “I’m just tired, and I’m going to sleep for a while. If Echo doesn’t need me?”
He flicked a look at her, but there was no trust in it. He knew she was lying.
“Where,” he repeated, his gaze swiveling back to Brynja, “are you taking my wife?”
My wife.
The possessiveness in his tone made her cheeks burn. She’d almost forgotten about their marital ruse…but apparently Jerrid had not.
Brynja squared her shoulders and raked him with a furious look of her own. “I am taking my prisoner back to her cell. And you’re going to let me do it unless you want to end up stuck in there with her.”
His nostrils flared. Was that fire igniting in his eyes?
Her mouth went dry, and images of Dragon exploding through Jerrid’s body and devouring Brynja in a single gulp tormented her mind. As much as she disliked the human girl, she disliked murder more. Jerrid, she trusted. But Dragon?
She didn’t trust him at all.
“Really, there isn’t any call for this,” she began in a weak attempt to defuse the situation. “Jerrid, I am so tired I can barely keep my eyes open. I want to go to my, um, my room.”
His eyes bored into her, tinged with disbelief. “Your room? Seriously, Ava?”
The way he said her name, a stronger emphasis on the V than her own people tended to give it… Her stomach fluttered most unpleasantly.
“Yes, seriously,” she managed as she picked at a loose thread on the elbow of her sleeve. “I want to go to my room, and I want to go to sleep.”
“There, you see?” Brynja interrupted, sounding triumphant. “She wants to go to her room.”
The way she overemphasized the words only caused the tightness around Jerrid’s mouth to increase. Did that stupid human girl have no sense when it came to men? Goading him would only make him dig in his heels more.
Ava needed to calm him down, appeal to his reason…
“If you do not give me back my wife,” Jerrid said, every syllable a promise, a threat, “then I will take her from you by force, and you will have more than a bump on the head to show for it.”
A cold, daring smile flickered across Brynja’s lips. “I’d like to see you try.”
Oh NO…
“Jerrid,” Ava began, but it was too late.
His nostrils flared again, his shoulders rolling backward, one at a time. They cracked as he moved, and then he spread his legs, bracing for a fight. Brynja moved into position, but she wasn’t prepared for what was coming.
And sure enough, a wing snaked out from Jerrid’s left shoulder. It snapped like a flag caught in a sudden, violent wind. Then the right wing appeared.
The leathery appendages flared out to both sides as he curled his fingers into fists, teeth baring—teeth lengthening into sharp incisors. A scream caught in Ava’s throat as she took an involuntary step backward.
“Give me back my elf,” Dragon roared through Jerrid’s mouth, eyes transforming into a fiery-hot orange hue, the pupils narrowing into reptilian slits.
Brynja laughed.
The fool girl laughed.
Ava gaped at her in horror. Had she completely lost her senses? Did she not know the danger she had put herself and the entire camp into?
“I knew it,” Brynja said smugly, crossing her arms over her chest and looking bored. “I knew it was you in the clearing. The dragon. It didn’t make any sense that any other dragons would just show up and come to our aid and then disappear into the night. And you lying there all naked afterwards…”
Her laugh rolled over them, brittle and loud.
The heat in Jerrid’s eyes—no, in Dragon’s eyes—ignited into a blaze.
Ava threw herself between them, pressing her hands into Jerrid’s chest to hold him back. Flames above! His chest muscles were hardening, sharpening, as scales began to break out over his body.
“Jerrid, please!” she cried. “Dragon! Stop this!”
He ignored her, his attention one hundred percent focused on Brynja. Ava caught his square face in both her hands, trying to force him to look at her. To see her.
“Don’t do this! Not because of me. I’m fine. Look at me, Jerrid. I’m fine!”
For half a second, she was tempted to kiss him just to shock him into noticing her, but she didn’t dare. She was too afraid he would bite her.
If only Brynja would back down, back away…
But the stupid, stupid girl continued to laugh. In fact, she was laughing so hard that she bent over at the waist to brace her hands on her knees.
Ava did the only thing that came to her mind.
She punched Jerrid in the stomach, hard.
The air hissed through his bared teeth, washing over her as he shifted his startled gaze to focus on her. Was that betrayal she read in his slitted eyes?
“Stop it,” she ordered, forcing sternness into a tone that wanted to be tremulous. “You will stop this right now.”
His eyes narrowed slightly, and the tension in his body seemed to increase rather than deescalate. Her pulse thundered more quickly. Maybe that had been the wrong tack to take…
“And,” he began, his tongue reaching out to touch his top left incisor in a way that seemed very, very deliberate, “if I say no, wife?”
Her stomach dropped as she eyed that incisor. Flames, she was talking to Dragon. This was definitely Dragon. But he still looked like Jerrid…mostly.
“I, uh…” She struggled to tear her gaze away from that very sharp and pointy tooth.
Was it too late to change tactics?
As if sensing her intention to flee, Dragon reached out with Jerrid’s hands and caught her by both elbows, locking her in place.
“Let me go, Dragon,” she said quietly, staring into his eyes and wishing they were Jerrid’s eyes.
His teeth flashed as he smiled, and he tugged her a little closer, so close she could feel the warmth of his breath on her face, could smell the ash of his fire…
He bent his head toward hers and whispered a word. Just one pointed little word.
“No.”