Dragon's Isolation - Miranda Martin Page 0,23
she says. “We are not taking him out into the desert with us.”
The mind-fog swells, red comes across my vision. The dragon rumbling inside is loud making it harder and harder to think. Malcolm is mine. I protect him, no other. My child. My son. Mine to protect.
“No,” I shake my head, but I’m not answering her, I’m struggling. Fighting for control of my own thoughts.
“Shidan,” Amara says, placing her hands on my chest. “Please. He’ll be safer here. It’s enough for you to worry about me out there. We can’t take our son with us.”
Her words… make sense. I know it. They cut through the fog, appeal to the voice of reason that is being drowned in the swirling mists of primality engulfing me. No matter how right she is, the dragon doesn’t want to accept it. He is mine, I must protect him. No other.
I growl, unable to contain it. My shoulders are tight knots. I force my body to relax, unknotting the tension in the muscles, taking my attention down from the shoulders through my torso, down my limbs. Push calm, cling to reason, bringing my thoughts under control.
Silently she runs her hands over my chest and up on to my face. She pulls my attention down to her. I stare into her eyes as she wraps her arms around me. In her I find my anchor. She is my treasure, my life, my sanity.
“Okay,” I agree, defying the screaming instincts that tell me to trust no other.
“Good,” she says, rising onto the balls of her feet she kisses me.
Her tongue pushes past my pliant lips as our kiss deepens. My arms wrap around her body, hands dropping to her full ass. My prime cock stiffens between us and I’m about to lift her up, fully ready to take what is mine when the other female clears her throat.
“Uh, I hate to interrupt but… not alone here?” she asks.
Amara’s face turns a soft pink that only entices me more, but she breaks our embrace and straightens her clothing.
“Sorry,” she says shaking her head.
I don’t understand what she is sorry for, but I keep my silence. On some level I understand the humans don’t express love this openly.
“You two need to move,” the other female says. “I don’t know how long you’ll have.”
“Right,” Amara says, taking my hand. “We’ll grab packs and go immediately.”
She pulls me out of the room. We make our way out of the building where the medical facility is and emerge into the empty, dead City. The temperature goes up as we step out, and I tilt my head back, taking the moment to enjoy the warmth.
When I open my eyes and look around, the empty streets and the decaying buildings strike an analogy to what’s happening in my head. The past is like this scene before me. Devoid of meaning and serving no purpose. My stomach knots at the thought, and a cold chill causes me to shiver.
“What is it?” Amara asks.
“Nothing,” I say, shaking my head.
“That was more than nothing,” she observes.
I can’t tear my eyes away from the scene. She puts her arm around my waist and follows my gaze.
“It’s empty, purposeless,” I say.
“Yeah,” she agrees. “The quarantine has really killed the buzz.”
“It’s how my head feels,” I say, speaking softly, almost not saying it.
She gasps but doesn’t say anything. Instead she squeezes me tighter and then her breath resumes.
“We need to go,” she urges, moving.
I follow her because I don’t know where she’s going. I know we are to get supplies. I should know where we would do that. I feel like I do know, but I don’t have any clue of how to get there.
We make our way through several blocks of the city until we get to a building that she must recognize. I look at it and can’t see how it stands out from any of the multitude we passed on our way here. There is nothing about it that stands out, but I put my trust in her.
Inside she pulls me along and through the interior until we’re in a new apartment. Small stone figures litter the floor. I pick up two of them and look them over. They’re crudely shaped stone, carved to resemble people and monsters. A child’s toys.
“I could do better than this,” I mutter, staring at a figure that looks like it was meant to be a zemlja.
Amara stops what she was doing and stares as if I’ve said something wrong. I