My Dragon Lover by Alisa Woods

Author:Alisa Woods [Woods, Alisa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Alisa Woods

Six

Ree

Goddamnit. The fucking Vardigah came back—and in force.

The adrenaline of the fight masked, for the critical seconds of the battle, my utter terror that they’d found Jayda. But it was fucking glorious to slice those bastards to pieces, after all they’ve done, and not just to Jayda and the other women—I’ve waited two hundred years for that payback. But now we’re back in France, and all I can do is pray they can’t track her here. We got lucky in the alley. Niko had mated-dragon strength, and I’ve literally trained my entire life to take down bad guys when they launch a surprise attack. But the Vardigah were prepared this time—they came in numbers. If they find us here in the south of France, it’ll be just me against who knows how many of them. Under no circumstances can I let Jayda out of my sight.

“Jesus, you’re bleeding, Ree!” She’s standing in front of me, barefoot but unharmed, her hands fluttering like she wants to do something.

I’m naked and covered in blood. My arm throbs where one of them got me. I wipe the blood from my shoulder to get a better look. “One of them had a vibrating sword of some kind.” There’s a deep gash that’s making my arm useless. I clamp my hand over it to stem the bleeding.

“You need to go to the hospital!” She’s spooling up.

“I’ll be fine,” I tell her, but the panic in her eyes says she doesn’t believe me.

“I’ll get some towels.” She spins to go, but I grab her wrist. “You need help!” she protests.

I pull her closer. “You’re not leaving my sight. Understood?”

She nods, but she’s tearing up. It’s a stress reaction, I know that—I’ve got an insane amount of adrenaline still pumping through me—but I need to calm her down and get myself patched up. And I know she doesn’t understand how dragon healing works and how this isn’t much. I’ll be fine soon.

“You can help me get cleaned up, okay?” I slide my good hand—bloody and fucking disgusting, but at least functional—down to hold hers. She doesn’t shy away from it. I walk us both back toward the bedrooms, skipping hers and heading straight for mine. Probably trailing blood across the carpet, but that can’t be helped. When we reach the bathroom, I grab a hand towel and press it to my shoulder. “Come here and hold this for me, okay?” That brings her closer—I’ve got this insane need to be touching her at all times, like that will somehow ward off the Vardigah—and she does a great job of putting pressure on my wound. Fucking hurts, but not for long. I lean back against the counter and slide my hand around her waist, drawing her and her gorgeous suit up against my naked and bloody body. She doesn’t even hesitate, just leans in and alternates worried looks between the rapidly-soaking towel and my face, which is probably also a mess. Somewhere on me, I have Vardigah blood as well.

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