The Platinum Dragon's Mate - Zoe Chant Page 0,4

would have been good to think about who was watching his back a few minutes ago, but—he hadn’t been able to turn his focus away from Sage and Rhiannon. “Thanks,” he told Santos, grateful that he wouldn’t need to step away even the short distance to his car.

“We can take her inside,” Sage said hesitantly. “It’s not—not as nice as it could be. But we fixed it so there’s running water.”

“Clean, safe water?” Reid asked.

She nodded. Her fear was starting to fade a little, he saw with relief. He wanted to tell her, Don’t worry, it’ll all be just fine—but you never wanted to say that, in case it wasn’t, so he bit down on the urge.

“All right. Let’s go.”

Sage picked her daughter up again—the girl whimpered, and Sage murmured softly to her, her voice low and musical.

Reid followed them. “How old are you, Rhiannon?” he asked, hoping to distract her from her arm hurting.

“S-seven,” she managed.

“Wow,” Reid said. “Seven. Getting on there, huh? Practically a teenager.”

That got him a tiny giggle through the tears. “No!”

“No? Thirteen doesn’t come after seven?”

“No!”

That exchange got them through the door—Reid cast a quick look around, silently appalled at the conditions they were living in, but just followed Sage inside. “Is there a kitchen table or something?” he asked quietly. “A hard surface will be better than a bed.”

Sage nodded, and took them down the tiny entrance hall into a kitchen, with a small table—not large enough to hold an adult, but just enough to accommodate a seven-year-old. Although it was clearly old and dingy, it seemed clean.

He heard people moving behind them, and a sudden clash of raised voices—Sage tensed—but it receded again, and then Santos was beside him, handing him the bag of supplies he’d packed in case they were needed.

“Sage,” Reid said softly, and Sage focused right on him immediately. She was holding her cool admirably for a mother with an injured child—but Reid guessed that she’d have to be good in a crisis, living in this community.

“I have a sedative here that’s safe for shifter children,” he said. “It’ll put her to sleep for about an hour, and she’ll wake up just fine, no side effects. Otherwise, setting this bone is going to hurt a lot. But I won’t give it to her without your consent.”

Sage glanced off to her left, where Shiloh was having a low-voiced argument with Alaric by the door. “Do it,” she said firmly.

Reid quickly got the sedative ready, keeping his body between his hands and the rest of the red dragons, and turned to Rhiannon. “Hi, Rhiannon,” he said. “I’m going to give you something that’s going to put you to sleep for just a little while. That way, nothing’s going to hurt, and when you wake up, you’ll already be starting to get better. Okay?”

Rhiannon looked at her mother, and Sage nodded. “Don’t worry, honey,” she said.

“Okay,” Rhiannon said, her lower lip trembling.

“A little poke,” Reid said, and administered the sedative with a quick movement. Within a minute, Rhiannon’s eyes were closing, her body slackening as the tension and pain drained away.

“All right,” Reid said. “Let’s set this arm.” Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Sage’s worried expression. “I’ve done this exact thing several times before,” he assured her. “Shifter kids are always falling off of things, because they want so badly to fly just like the adults. It’s no fun for anyone to watch, but it’s over fast and everything’s right as rain.”

Sage breathed in and out, slow. In the background, Shiloh was still arguing.

“I know this has to be frightening,” Reid said, more quietly. “Your daughter’s hurt, and I’m a stranger. I’m sorry—”

What was he sorry for? He hadn’t done anything wrong. But he was, deeply sorry. I’m sorry we had to meet like this, was what he was thinking, but that was absurd. He met people by helping them or their children all the time.

Sage met his eyes. Hers were a startling golden color. “Don’t be sorry,” she said, steely and calm. “Just help her.”

Without another word, Reid bent to his work.

Chapter 4: Sage

Sage wasn’t in the habit of making impulsive decisions.

But she hadn’t had the time or the ability to sit carefully and think this through. Not with Rhiannon crying—not with the memory of watching her fall, hearing her scream—

No. Sage needed her daughter to be all right. She needed Rhiannon to be just fine.

And when she’d looked the strange man in the eye, there had been