To Wake a Dragon - Naomi Lucas Page 0,48

know. All I thought I would ever know.

She senses this from me but does not know how to respond. Would I if I were her?

Part of me wants to grab my mate and steal her away. Take her somewhere far from here. But that will cause much strife between us, and the more I am in her presence, the more I understand I will never control her. I could try to run away with her, but she would never let me get far. My beautiful human needs no one to survive. Even now, she picks out a hefty stick from the low-hanging branches to use as a walker—and a weapon.

I nod when she faces me. I find my own branch.

She is smart to arm herself.

Milaye nods back. She starts to follow the creak. I rumble, moving ahead of her. “I will go first.”

She shakes her head and smiles.

Her smile gives me hope. Hope that this new world will accept me into it. If only I can accept it first.

17

Not as Planned

Something is off about Drazak. His crystal stopped creating smoke. My eyes stray to his back and trace the rigidity of his muscles as we make our way out of the jungle. There’s a tightness that wasn’t there before…or perhaps I just never noticed the strain while in the cave.

My lips part to ask, but then promptly shut. I know what’s wrong. My chest constricts with it, my belly twists.

‘A femdragon does not remain with her nest, when she is grown, she leaves.’

I focus on my surroundings instead. My enhanced senses are still odd and colors blast my eyes while sounds from a myriad of creatures sing in my ears. There is no darkness anywhere around us but for a few mild shadows. Night is still a ways off. I love it. I love being in the light again. Little bites from insects itch my skin, and I don’t mind, and more scents than I can name bloom the air. I don’t know why, but it all seems so new to me. It shouldn’t be new; I have been in this jungle all my life.

My gaze drops to Drazak’s tense back again. I can’t imagine what this is all like for him.

What being human is like for him.

How many days were we in the cave? How long ago was it that he could barely move? We escaped the cave near morning. I gathered that from the length of the day so far, but beyond that… the unchanging chilly darkness of the cave obscures time. We could have been there from anywhere to three to five days.

I think.

I don’t know how long I was unconscious, nor how long I slept. How long ago was it that Drazak couldn’t even move? Could barely speak? He’s only been human for days.

And for me… I delved into the darkness for Haime. I return to the light mated and… pregnant. So much has changed.

Glancing down at my flat stomach, a tendril of excitement rushes through me.

Please give me a daughter. I would love a son, but I always dreamed of a daughter. I want both—many—if possible, but I never considered having a son until now. There are so few males that it just never occurred to me that I may be lucky enough to have one. Or given the opportunity to have one.

My heart thrums at the prospect. I’m still reeling from Drazak’s announcement that we conceived. I do not doubt him, the other dragon men knew immediately when their mates conceived. I sink my teeth into my lower lip. He would know too.

I’m with child.

If I didn’t already want to get back to the tribe, I want to sprint there now—even in spite of the ever-present gloom for Haime shadowing over my heart.

But something is wrong with my mate, and I can’t shake my worry.

“Drazak,” I say softly, reaching out to take his hand. His fingers tangle with mine.

He stops and tilts his face up. “I smell it.”

I look at him, confused. “Smell what?”

“The ocean.”

He pulls me after him, rushing through the foliage. The run is a relief. Drazak is fast, and the effort distracts me from my concerns. We race, playful as children, and soon, the jungle opens up and long grasses take over the ground. Glimpses of turquoise blue appear between the last of the trees. When his feet strike the sand, his body under the direct rays of the sun, Drazak stops. Panting, I gaze at him. His eyes are wide.

His