Leah's Hero - Miranda Martin Page 0,25

Angota says, jerking me into the moment.

“Yes?” I ask.

“This is a terrible idea. The storm is growing worse,” Angota says.

He’s staring at me, almost a glare. I sense his anger. The water is rising fast, and no matter how we want to argue, it’s not safe here either.

“We should tie the group together,” I say. “The rain will make it impossible to see. We don’t want to lose anyone.”

Angota opens his mouth and then snaps it shut, deciding not to say what is on his mind.

“We can use cloth,” Riley says.

Angota’s mate. The connection between them is palpable. The way they look at each other, the touches…. My chest tightens when I see it, and my hearts push harder as the dragon swells with its own desire. I cast a furtive glance at Leah. If only…

“Hurry,” Rakstan says. “We need to move.”

The females set to work as Riley talks to them in what must be their native language. It’s a pretty language. The sounds of it are softer, less drawn out than Zmaj. There is a flow to it that pleases my ear, but most especially when Leah speaks. Her voice is beauty in sound, as she is in flesh. Full, embodied, rich with varied tones that caress my scales.

“Now is not the time,” Angota says.

I jump. He spoke right into my ear. I was lost in my thoughts and missed him closing the distance between us. Fool. Dangerous, stupid fool.

“It’s nothing,” I snap back.

“I don’t trust you,” he says, his voice so low it’s a hiss. “And now you lie to me. Do you think I am a fool?”

“No,” I say, shifting so that I’m facing him. “I don’t, but if you call me a liar again, we will have a problem.”

Angota stiffens, his eyes narrowing as his chest puffs up. His tail rises between his wings and he leans in. I refuse to step back.

I may be broken, and I’m sure he will beat me in a fight, but I won’t be called a liar. No male will impugn my honor, even if it kills me to keep it.

“Hey,” Riley says, putting her hand on his chest as she slips between us. “Lot to do over here.”

He turns with her but keeps his eyes locked on me. We glare at each other until he breaks off at last. My hearts thunder, the rush of blood clouding my thoughts and making me dizzy. As soon as he’s not looking, I grab the table behind me to steady myself.

The cuts ache and my broken arm throbs. I close my eyes and breathe, pushing through the dizziness. Then something soft touches my bicep, trailing up to my shoulders. I don’t dare breathe, I should open my eyes, but I don’t want to break the moment. That touch, so delicate its intimate. It sets my scales on fire as it passes.

“Are you okay?” Leah whispers.

“Now,” I say, eyes popping open against my will.

I’m afraid to look, afraid this is a dream, a fantastic imagination of me fooling myself. It’s not. She’s there, in front of me, a hand’s width away. She takes the air from my lungs, from the room, brilliant and beautiful and deadly with her casual unawareness of her own perfection. A smile curls the corners of her lips, slowly drawing them up. Her brow wrinkles, her eyes sparkle. I notice every detail, but my attention is drawn to her lips.

Plump, full, glistening as if demanding, demanding I kiss them. I’m leaning in before I think the thought and have to stop myself. I have no right. She deserves a full male, not a broken half-male. She makes a throaty sound, almost a snort, and shakes her head.

“You’re sweet,” she says, not meeting my eyes.

Clever words come but I bite them off. She is kind, that is all. She has no interest in me. I return her smile but remain silent. One of the other females comes around the table and hands the end of a length of cloth to Leah who takes it and ties it around her waist. She hands the remaining length to me.

I tie it tightly around my own waist. Leah will be right behind me. Is that random chance or the hand of fate? The dragon’s claim would say it is fate, but how can fate intend her for me? Now it’s a cruel joke. It’s hard enough, almost impossible, to keep my attention off of her. Having her so close does not make that