Dragon Guardian of Water by Keira Blackwood & Eva Knight

Author:Keira Blackwood & Eva Knight
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: Paramour Press
Published: 2020-03-25T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Ruarc

As the first shreds of morning light filtered into the alcove, Herrik’s eyelids slid shut as if on cue. He appeared no worse for wear after another night of experiments. Me? I was a completely different story.

My muscles ached and my energy was completely drained. I was ready to collapse in my sleeping pool in what was becoming a new daily pattern. During the day, we slept. At night, we worked. I would thread my magic into the coyote shifter, while he gave me a few words here and there that suggested he was not a completely lost cause.

That thread of hope kept me sane.

Sane, but exhausted.

I toed my shoes off and set them by the door to my sleeping chamber, then pulled up the hem of my shirt.

Splashing pinged at the edge of my awareness. I froze. It happened again. There was a disturbance in the lake that summoned me.

It was not only the splash of a stone this time. She was there, thrashing along the water’s edge. I could feel Polly’s agitation from here.

I pulled my shirt back down and headed out through the tunnel that exited in a mound of rocks. Outside, the sun seemed too bright. The splashing sounded too loud.

I circled around the lake toward the noise. And I saw her.

She was knee-deep in the lake with a large branch held in her hand like a weapon. She smacked the surface of the water as if her intention was to murder something.

The smile that crept across my face surprised me. I missed her.

“There you are.” She slammed down the branch one last time for good measure, then put her hands on her hips and waded along the water to meet me where I stood.

“What is wrong with you?” She shoved my chest.

I blinked, wondering if this was all some strange dream, because she wasn’t making any sense.

Her salty-sweet scent was tinged with fury, a sentiment that also showed in her scowl.

She slammed her palms into my chest a second time. “Say something, you dick.”

“Hi,” I said, amused, confused, and unreasonably pleased to see her. “Why are you pushing me?”

“It’s only called pushing if you move, and you didn’t fucking move.” Her scowl deepened.

I sucked in a slow, steady breath for composure. She was talking, but she wasn’t telling me anything. Why was she so frustrated? Better to ask than try to guess.

“What’s going on?”

“You didn’t listen,” she said. “You didn’t come. And a boy almost died.”

A mix of fear and anger flashed through me. It was completely unexpected.

Polly slammed her arms into my chest a third time, and I grabbed her wrists. She fell against me, and I held her there. Her pulse pounded and her breathing was ragged.

I rubbed slow circles on her back, easing her tension. She felt good. She felt right in my arms. She was meant to be with me, just like this.

She exhaled slowly and stared into my eyes.

I wanted to kiss her, to hold her, to calm her, to claim her.

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