yet decided if that is a good thing. Though I never thought I would be bonded, lose my immortality, or my power, now I am able to perish with a voice again.”
I can’t tell if he’s mad at me or not. “I am sorry, regardless.”
“You know of the dragon’s curse,” he states it more than asks.
“Yes.”
“Then why did you not claim me when you first came upon me?”
“First came—” my eyes flick to the jewel on his brow, and I watch the puffs of dark smoke coming from it “—upon you?”
“I heard you, felt the warmth of your fire stick. You were by my hindleg, then you were before me. Why did you not claim me?”
“It didn’t feel right.”
“Any human would bind a dragon if given half the chance. The bond does more than mate us for life, it also strips away our threat.”
“I thought you were dead,” I murmur.
His brows arch. “And you did not want to make sure?”
I shake my head, then wince. I rub the sore, swollen flesh at the back of my head. Drazak’s eyes narrow, and I see through the corner of my vision his hands shake and clench.
“You were beautiful,” I tell him, ignoring his reaction. “I’ve… searched for you for so long that I’d given up. I no longer had hope that I’d see a dragon one day, let alone bond with one… You were beautiful, and I—I didn’t want to change that. I couldn’t, not like that. Not so my hopes could come true. It felt wrong. It felt selfish.”
“A mistake, human.”
“Mistake?”
“For not taking the opportunity when it presented itself.”
“And you would have? If the roles were reversed?”
He glances at the meat in his hand. “Do you want to be bound to me?”
Taken aback, I stare at him. It’s a question I don’t know how to answer. Yes, I want to scream, but then the part of me that approaches with caution—with every possible outcome already played out in her head—hesitates. “I’d given up,” I repeat, as if that’s an answer.
His jaw ticks. “Why?”
“Because only the lucky among my tribe are given the honor to mate.”
“And you did not have that honor?”
His questions make me uncomfortable. No one else ever cared enough to ask these questions, and I don’t know what to do about it. As a protector of Sand’s Hunters, all my tribe cares about is that I perform my duties and that I remain healthy enough to continue doing so.
Perhaps that’s why I love our children so much. I gaze down at my hands, feeling my chest squeeze. The tribe’s children are so sweet and innocent and loving. You never had to wonder if you were loved by them. You knew it the moment they wrapped their little arms around you with laughter.
“No. I did not have that honor,” I say.
Drazak lifts his free hand, and I look up to see what he’s doing. Slowly, he brings it to my face and rubs the back of his finger up my cheek. Our eyes find each other again.
My chest squeezes harder.
“Milaye,” he says my name softly, and I don’t know why, but it makes the hurt worse. “Why?”
I shake my head.
“Why?” he demands, his voice getting rougher.
“My family… My mother only ever bore females, and her mother before that. When my sisters and I were born, the elders decided that they could not take any chances by pairing one of us to the last-born male of the coastal tribes. They chose a female from a lineage that had males in their recent ancestry. That, and she, being one of the youngest in the tribe, is closer in age to the male. The pairing made sense.” I see confusion etch across Drazak’s expression. “My sisters and I were raised knowing we would never mate.”
“I do not understand? There are no other males?”
Does he not know? Does he even know about the red comet? I can’t believe he would not know. “Male children are very rare. They’re rarer with every generation,” I tell him. “For nearly thirty years, my tribe and our neighbors at Shell Rock have only had one male child, Leith. Just one, in thirty years, the lowest birth rate our tribes have ever suffered, and the northern tribes are not faring any better. The chance of me being chosen for the honor of Leith’s mate was slim to none. His chosen mate is also six years younger than me. I had fewer childbearing years to give.”
“Why not have him take